Good Intentions

A/N: Here is the next chapter of the story, there’s a lot of details and a lot of glimpses about what some of the characters are up to. Happy reading.

IMPORTANT NOTE:

BEFORE reading this chapter READ the first chapter of the companion story to Good Intentions, now known as: NO GOOD DEED! It’s absolutely VITAL to understand why certain events that will take place in this chapter have occurred!!!

Text Formatting:
‘Character thoughts’
Emphasis, Article Heading, setting info
Foreign words, spells, letters, media text (newspaper/books)
- Parseltongue -
:: Telepathy ::

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Good Intentions
By: SheWolfe7

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Chapter VI: Necessity

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The Training Yard
Asikis Hall, Rhodope Mountains, Greece
Saturday the 4th of January 1975
10:40 AM


Odysseus stared, utterly dumbstruck. “What in the world…?!”

Elder Asikis merely pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated beyond belief. “I thought you said that he was talented and a quick learner?”

“He is or rather he was. I’ve never seen him react so sloppily Sarpedon. Has he not been adjusting well?” Odysseus asked, looking away from the shameful display.

“The first few days went well but recently his performance has dropped dramatically. Now he is like a fledging newly come into his power he has no control whatsoever!” Sarpedon snarled. “My grandson has more control than him at the moment and Meleager is nine!”

Odysseus frowned, “What are you going to do then? He’s much too powerful to be trained by anyone less than a Squall.”

“That much I know but my frustration with him is beyond words, I fear that I would do him some harm should his performance remain lackluster. So I will place him under Zayle’s guidance for the time being.”

“Is that wise? Zayle has yet to choose a life mate.”

Sarpedon waved his hand in dismissal. “No attachments will form, of that I am certain. The tiercel is too young and Zayle is dallying with Patriarch Karahi’s nephew, who would make a much better life mate in the long run.”

“I am in no position to gainsay you Elder Asikis, but I will warn you, the tiercel has a terrible ability to do the unexpected. I only pray that the enchantments on the Hall can withstand his Fury.”

Sarpedon snorted, “It was cast by Archelaus, who was easily the most powerful Squall to be born. If they could withstand his Fury, they can withstand this tiercel.”

Odysseus shivered slightly, and hoped the Elder was right.

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The Balcony
Asikis Hall, Rhodope Mountains, Greece
Wednesday the 8th of January 1975
2:35 AM


Anastas rubbed his eyes, utterly exhausted. He was so damned tired! Ever since his strange blackout two weeks ago he had not been sleeping well and his condition had only worsened when he arrived at Asikis Hall. There was something about being in the mountains that made him feel as though he had just returned home after a long journey, though he always felt a bit restless too, as if he were waiting for something. It was altogether odd and he would not forget the look his mentor had given him when Anastas had idly mentioned it.

Of course by now he had gotten used to the fact that he wasn’t the least bit normal. Life as Harry Potter had taught him to expect the unexpected. So the fact that he was an oddity among the Harpies didn’t surprise him in the least. While his Harpy blood did significantly boost his already formidable abilities, it did make him worried because now he would be exposed to a whole new world of politics.

Often he found his unique situation in the Wizarding World frustrating enough and he was very sick of the hours and hours he spent plotting and slowly manipulating things from the shadows. His Adoption into the Torres Family had been extremely profitable in terms of adding to his network of potential allies as well as giving him a great deal of power and influence. There were some downsides though, namely the whole extravaganza regarding finding a suitable spouse and the attempts to kidnap him.

The latter situation worried him more than the former, which was understandable. In fact, the report his Granduncle had given him before he left hinted that the four separate kidnapping attempts had been masterminded by two, if not more, different individuals. So far, only one of the groups had been identified and taken care of. It was a very troubling situation and the fact that it was taking so long for his Granduncle and Cousin to gather information was a cause of concern. With his Grandfather’s contacts and the eager aid of all the Families hoping for an alliance, the investigation should have been smooth sailing.

The kidnapping attempts had only emphasized the fact that while he had plenty of power and influence, he was still very limited in what he could do with it. Revealing his true goals was out of the question and with his position in society; it was not possible for him to do his own investigations.

There was one possible solution but he was loath to begin the process for fear of putting himself in the way of temptation. Anastas liked to believe that he could learn from his mistakes and asking favors of his inner demon was not conducive to his desire to free himself from its influence.

- But you can’t be free of my influence, not now and not ever. -

Sighing, Anastas leaned against the rail of the balcony outside his room. - You certainly have been talkative lately. -

The other snarled with malice. - It’s not as though I have anything better to do! There are faster ways to master your new abilities as you very well know but you’re just being stubborn. I give you the powers of a lesser god and yet you would condemn me for giving you such a marvelous gift! -

Anastas scowled. - I’m so sorry that I’m boring you. Honestly, if you weren’t such a danger, I’d happily give you away to some other hapless fool. Unfortunately I can’t be sure that a new host can avoid the temptation. I certainly failed. -

A weary sigh brushed across Anastas’ cheek, causing him to jump in place at the bizarre behavior of the other being. - Mortals are weak in body, mind, and spirit. You were a better mortal than the thousands I’ve encountered before you. It’s foolish that even now, after you’ve succeeded in your task, you would allow yourself to be ruled by the expectations of those gone to bone and dust. You may tell yourself that you will destroy Voldemort because he is a danger to the safety of the Wizarding populace or that you despise him for the things he has done to you and yours but neither of those is what drives you now. I tire of your self-delusions, host. -

- Oh and if you know me so well, then what drives me? - Anastas demanded feeling caught off guard by how reasonable it was being. It always knew what he was thinking and it was always so enthusiastic about bringing up admissions or thoughts that he often preferred to leave alone.

- It’s very simple. If not for chasing after this Dark Lord, you would have no purpose to exist. All that anger and betrayal you felt when they cast you in Azkaban was not enough to keep you alive. If I had not interfered you would have withered away ages ago! I am the one that gave you another chance to live, to choose your own path and this is what you would do with the second gift I have given you? Your inherent mortal foolishness disgusts me. -

“What would you propose I do instead? A war is brewing, whether it erupts in the next five years or the next fifty nothing will stop it unless someone takes preventative actions now. I would prefer to be in an advantageous position when that war does finally break.”

- If that is the case then you should welcome my interference. You are aware of what I am capable of; I can do so much for not only you but others now that I am stronger. - It crooned temptingly.

“No, I don’t want anything that you can offer me. Your…enhancements are too unnatural. It will be commented upon if I gain any other unique abilities. That and the price to be paid for your aid are greater than I am willing to pay. Even for his death.” Anastas grunted as he was shoved back.

- You irritate me with all your repetitive whining about being tricked into accepting my power and how it led you down a dark path. It’s bullshit and you know it! How did the man who was once invincible on the battlefield turn into this pathetic child who can’t accept the consequences of their actions? You say that you hate me, that you would destroy me but what you really hate and wish to destroy is the weakness you find within yourself! -

Before Anastas could think of responding, the presence faded and he was alone with the troubling truths the other had revealed.

---

The Ballroom
Liatos Villa, Thessaly, Greece
Friday the 10th of January 1975
10:40 PM


Evaristo sipped his wine, savoring the crisp fruity flavor. “The opening was impressive; I think it should do quite well. You must be pleased.”

Hesiod smiled widely, “I am always very pleased by the success of my family, be they my own children or the extended family. Callinus is quite thrilled and I am very happy for him, he has worked hard on the production.”

“I can only hope my own son does as well in his endeavors as your children and grandchildren. Anastas has so much potential that I am eager to see where he will focus his attention.”

“I am certain that he will acquit himself marvelously. I admit, I was surprised to see you come to the play alone. Where is your son?” Hesiod questioned curiously.

“He is currently under the tutelage of Elder Sarpedon Asikis. At the Elder’s suggestion, I thought it best to send Anastas to enhance his control over his Harpy abilities. The…Incident on Christmas Eve has led the Family to be more cautious in regards to his safety and the safety of our guests. Anastas is not a violent person by any means but his temper is a thing to be feared now and it is best to let him gain more control before he takes the center stage at the Soirees this season.”

Hesiod shook his head with amusement, his dark brown hair swaying gently. “That, I believe is an understatement. I can only imagine your horror at the number of Anterior Courtship Ritual requests you have received since the turn of the year.”

Evaristo sighed, as the two rejoined the rest of the guests. “It has been quite trying. I had to move back into the Palacio because the Villa was simply being drowned in requests.”

The Ballroom was filled with guests from all over the world, their clothes spanning all hues of the rainbow and all styles. Originally, he had not intended to attend the newest Liatos play being performed in Athens but his father and brother had conspired to get him out of the Palace for a few hours. The play had been entertaining and a relief from the hours he had spent pouring over ACR requests but now he would have to mingle. That might actually be worse than spending all of his waking hours reading through pretentious, dry requests.

“Beware the sharks,” Hesiod warned teasingly as the tension in the crowded ballroom seemed to spike for a moment, no doubt as everyone noticed that their host and a much esteemed guest had arrived.

Hannah Walker, a petite blonde witch in a cyan dress quickly took her place next to her dark haired husband. “Good evening Evaristo, I hoped you enjoyed the play?”

Evaristo smiled, “It was well done, I thought. I shall be sure to offer my congratulations to Callinus.”

“Please do,” Hannah agreed.

In the two minutes it took for them to exchange pleasantries, they were quickly surrounded by other guests, all eager to speak to their hosts and, no doubt, have an excuse to speak to Evaristo. Among the group of newcomers were Anacreon Liatos, Karl Gisler, Mona Scilacci, Ihab Rostom and Akilina Lutrova. Evaristo mentally sighed; incidentally all of them had at least one child they had submitted an ACR request for.

“Good evening Torres how is your son? I noticed he is not with you.” Karl Gisler greeted dark eyes inquisitive.

“Anastas is well. I have placed him in the care of Elder Sarpedon Asikis, who has taken the role of his mentor. Hopefully Elder Asikis can help my son gain more control over his abilities.”

Mona smiled, showing her perfect white teeth. “He is young; there is not much that is hard to learn at his age.”

Evaristo nodded agreeably, “That is true, Lady Scilacci.”

“I believe this is the first time you have attended a gathering since the announcement.” Ihab commented, waiting.

“I have been much busy dealing with the vast number of ACR requests that have been submitted. They arrive at all hours of the day and so far two of the Receiving Rooms at the Palace have been commandeered to store them until they may be properly read and sorted.”

Hesiod smiled faintly, “A Herculean task, no doubt. Have you been sorting them alone?”

“No, when they have time, my brother Prince Apolinar and my father Prince Estavan assist. My uncle Warlord-Prince Silvio has taken to assigning unruly guardsmen preliminary sorting duties. I have heard it rumored that he is quickly running short of unruly hands.” Evaristo replied with a chuckle.

“How many requests have you sorted through so far?” Akilina questioned softly.

“Several hundred, of which only half or less are acceptable. I’ve received requests from other Royal Houses down to impoverished Pureblooded Families.”

Hannah blinked slowly, “Are there any you favor so far?”

Evaristo frowned as he pondered her question and a diplomatic answer. “The prospective marriage contracts have been very promising so far but it is far too soon to say that we have narrowed down our choices. I can name a few memorable and favorable contracts that have passed our approval. One of the first was submitted by Li Jie, in favor of his third son Cheng, another two were submitted by Chanan Najafian, in favor of his second son Tolan and his youngest daughter Shirin. We accepted King Netuno Delgado’s contracts in the names of his son Prince Calixto and his grandson Prince Maël and Queen Marie Ephrussi submitted a contract in the name of her second son Prince Phillip.”

Akilina narrowed her eyes slightly. “You seek a Royal match?”

“As I said, it is too soon yet to narrow down our selections. There is no guarantee that those who have their ACR request accepted will earn the honor of opening Courtship rituals. Tradition dictates that any suitor seeking entrance into our House pass the Way of Five and those that pass that test must also pass the Lund’s Rune Crafting.”

Anacreon, who had been silent thus far, spoke. “A Rune Crafting? I thought that fell out of practice a century earlier!”

“Jacob Lund re-instated the test, namely to weed out those who were only interested in the Lund fortune. From what I recall, the Rune Crafting was to be among the more difficult Courtship tests.”

Hesiod smiled with amusement. “I have a feeling that we of the Haute Monde, will be quite entertained this forthcoming season!”

---

Stormhaven Hall, Lake Van, Turkey
Saturday the 11th of January 1975
12:00 PM


Ozan Tanju was a man of great power, though few knew his name or face. For centuries he had directed the League of Seers and Prophets as their Overseer. Throughout those years, he had guided his fellow Seers and Prophets during times of war and uncertainty and they had remained united in their common goal. All those who belonged to the League took a vow of pacifism and complete neutrality. No matter what they Saw or Prophesized, they would not actively alter the Future.

For over five thousand years, the League had never encountered a problem with their beliefs but all that had changed several months ago. Now the League was uncertain. While they could never break their vow of pacifism they were uncertain what action, if any, they should take.

Evaristo Torres was a skilled Seer but he had never been a member of the League and what he was doing worried them. He was slowly but surely changing the outcome of the Future. Manipulating the events of the present to change the outcome of the Future was dangerous work, one that most Seers and Prophets took no active part in. Torres had altered the future strongly twice already. Firstly by Adopting the wanderer the League had name Vega and therefore, preventing a nearly cataclysmic war that would have broken out in twenty years, give or take. Secondly, he had prevented the complete devastation of Northern Europe when the Vega’s Inheritance had been triggered. (1)

While Ozan did not approve of Torres’ decision to actively manipulate the future, he knew that the Seer’s intervention had prevented many unnecessary deaths. It seemed to the League however, that Evaristo had no intention of interfering unless inaction led to a disaster of some sort, whether that disaster was devastation of the land or pointless deaths.

Ozan was not a fool by any means, he knew there was some greater plan afoot but he was not certain if the League’s interference would make things any better. Just this morning he had spent two hours immersed in the river of possible futures, hoping for some sign that would help him make a decision in regards of the League’s actions. Unfortunately, the future was unpredictable and filled with turbulence.

At one extreme lay a devastating war, one that would devour the Wizarding World and leave it a mere shadow of what it now was. The other extreme was a peaceful future, one that was controlled by a select few but the Wizarding World would thrive to even greater heights should this future pass. And between those two extremes was a dense fog that he could not see through, though he could sense that should this future come to pass, there would be no bloodshed only a great deal of chaos.

They stood now on the edge of a knife, and the actions of a single person would decide what future awaited them. Could the League stand back and wait to see what the Vega would choose? Or should they risk interfering and possibly setting the course of the future to a path that could not be turned away from?

He had ordered the League to stand down for the time being, they would watch and wait and if things looked disastrous, they would interfere. While he would have been more content had their agents managed to capture the Vega and learn of his intentions that opportunity was now beyond them. The Vega was getting too powerful and he was on his guard. He no longer disabled his attackers; he killed them and did so unflinchingly. Ozan could not risk any more agents but most importantly, even if they did manage to capture the Vega, there was no cell strong enough to keep him imprisoned. Yet.

Now that the League had been given their instructions, he could return to the task at hand. In the shade of a towering wall, Ozan continued his work as he constructed a perfect, inescapable cell.

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The Receiving Room
Palacio d’Asturies, Oviedo, Asturias
Sunday the 12th of January 1975
2:00 PM


It was a normal Sunday afternoon at the Palacio. Seated in the Receiving Room was the current primary line of the Torres Family, who gathered every other Sunday to have lunch and discuss their lives. Today was the first gathering since the New Year’s Eve Gala. As Evaristo had expected, everyone had been eager to discuss the fallout. To his amusement they had all filed into the Receiving Room after lunch to have their discussion and had almost immediately divided into three groups. The women in the family had settled near the windows, the younger children had grouped themselves closest to the door and the men had settled near the fireplace.

Once she was settled and the doors to the Receiving Room were firmly closed, Tiziana frowned at her husband. “I believe that I have been patient enough. Will you explain why only Evaristo, Apolinar and a few unfortunate guardsmen are allowed to sort through the Anterior Courtship Ritual requests that have come for Anastas? I have seen the other Receiving Rooms and they are literally flooded. Would it not be more prudent if we offered our services to sort through the requests?”

“Your advice and experience is valuable but there are other concerns that you are not aware of. While we would appreciate the help, I think it best that we keep the current course.” Estavan answered smoothly.

Ariadne scoffed, “We know that there is much that you have not told us about Anastas. Evaristo has been extremely protective and secretive, which for him, is unheard of. The Torres Family have always stood together, why would you chose this time to divide the family?”

Evaristo carefully chose his words. “It was at my request that information about Anastas be kept only to those who truly needed to know. As you have already pointed out, I am not a secretive person but Anastas’ secrets are best left unspoken. There may come a time when it is safe to speak of but that time has not yet arrived. I beg your patience in this matter.”

“Very well, how do the requests look so far?” Isabella asked.

“So far they are very promising as we had expected. We have accepted over two hundred requests so far.” Apolinar answered.

“You have completed a thorough check to ensure he has no prior obligations, correct?” Ariadne questioned.

Evaristo nodded a faint smile on his lips. “I have checked thoroughly, there are no longstanding familial debts that are currently in affect. Technically as Columbe Focalor was disowned the betrothal he broke with the Limoges Family was dissolved, much to their consternation.”

“It is little wonder Columbe was so eager to elope with Phoebe. What choice is there between a rose and a dandelion?” Cyril mused, wishing he himself had been so fortunate.

Araceli looked pensive. “Have you decided on the individual rituals to be performed?”

“As is traditional, we will have the usual trials of Knowledge, Creativity and Combat. For Knowledge we will test either: Social Graces, Core Academics or Specializations. Combat will consist of tests of Precision, Endurance or Tactics. We have not yet decided on the tests of Creativity as it is a broader subject. As for the final trial, we have not yet chosen a field.”

“How will we handle the Courtship rituals this year? I do not doubt that Anastas will draw a large pool of suitors but there we must also remember that Alfonso and Agustin are not yet betrothed.” Tiziana pointed out.

“And there will be several soirees and dinners to be held in the honor of Simon and his betrothed Lady Jilila.”

Eloisa chuckled. “Don’t forget that Elivra and I are getting married in June!”

Estavan sighed. “Yes, there will be many obligations this Season.”

“That’s an understatement.” Cleto muttered, already imagining all the stuffy soirees and dinners he would be forced to attend.

“We will manage this year as there will only be a total of twenty soirees. Next year will be more difficult with Alfonso, Fausto, Simon and Tyr gone all spring on their Tour and then the Cuélebre Festival at Midsummer.” Apolinar recounted, causing a few groans from the younger members of the family.

Silvio cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the others. “Before we get too distracted about the future soirees, I would like to speak of several pressing issues that have yet to be solved. The investigation behind the attempted kidnappings is still ongoing and so far little has been brought forward that would be of use. For now, the increase in security is all that we can do to avoid future problems. There is one problem however, that must be addressed as soon as possible.”

Estavan frowned, “What problem is that?”

“There have been unsavory rumors spread in the Court about Anastas’ intentions. Many think that Anastas may attempt to usurp the throne using his wealth and connections. It is not the first time these rumors have been spoken but since his inheritance and the recent Incident I fear what may arise if action is not taken soon.”

“What would you suggest we do?”

Silvio withdrew a scroll from his pocket and set it in front of his brother. “From what I have gathered, the root of these rumors centers around Anastas’ place within this family. He is not Trueborn, though even if he was there would still be suspicion. The only choice that remains to us is that he undertake the Way of Five to prove his worth.”

“But…that test has only ever been taken by prospective brides or grooms who would be joining the family!”

“That is true but the Way of Five tests the values and skills necessary to successfully lead a life as a member of the Royal Family. If Anastas undertakes the test and succeeds then no one can dispute his position or his intentions.”

Estavan understood immediately. “You think the Court and the populace in general would be less worried if he were formally Bound to the Family and unable to betray it?”

“Yes.”

Evaristo shook his head, “It would never work. I have no doubts that he could complete the test but he would never agree to be Bound to the Family in that way.”

Araceli stood up and walked over to Evaristo. “I had my doubts when you told me the truth that you will not tell the others here but I must know, how certain are you that your son will not turn on us?”

“There is nothing about my son that remains unknown to me. Anastas is no threat to this family, at least not in the way that you are most concerned about. You will never trust him, I know that due to my Gift, so I ask that you trust in the knowledge that I would never willingly betray our family. If you cannot trust in me…then I have no assurances to give you.” Evaristo replied gray eyes distinctly cool.

Araceli only nodded once before she left the room. An awkward silence pervaded the room in her absence as the rest of the family mulled over that odd exchange.

“What do you suggest then if he will not take the Way of Five?” Silvio asked at last breaking the silence.

“There is an old rite of passage that the lesser Princes undertook to earn the right to serve as one of the Warlord’s Commanders. It is a rite that Anastas will not object to undertaking and he would have to swear a vow to serve the Warlord and the Sovereign Prince absolutely during times of War. That should negate any worries of the courtiers and the populace while allowing him the freedom that he seeks.”

“What preparations will need to be made?”

Evaristo chuckled, “I would think that you would already know. We are Asturian and we have only ever had a single test of strength and courage.”

Alfonso gaped, “You aren’t serious!”

“I have no need to lie.”

Cleto grinned suddenly, “If he kills the Cuélebre…does that mean we don’t have to have that dumb festival next year?” (2, 3)

“If he succeeds then we won’t have to have a festival again until Apolinar takes the throne.”

“I would agree to this rite then!” Apolinar exclaimed, shooting an apologetic glance at his father.

Estavan dismissed the look with a wave, “I have no objections to this rite of passage, considering how much money we will save from hosting the festival every three years. It should be interesting what treasures the Cuélebre has been hoarding all these years.”

“No one has slain the Cuélebre since Gregorio Tavares was elevated to Marqués of Siero in 1508 and there are always seven fools eager to make the attempt every festival. The hoard this Cuélebre has should be even more impressive than the Cuélebre before it.” Cyril pointed out.

“I will make the arrangements then,” Silvio agreed.

---

The Training Hall
Rose Arbor Palace, Paraíso Island, Azores
Monday the 13th of January 1975
11:00 AM


Calixto greedily drank the water that Thierry held out to him and spared a moment’s thought to forge an ‘emergency’ at one of his estates to escape Wednesday’s lesson.

Since their father had submitted ACR proposals for all his eligible offspring, Calixto and the other eligibles were now required to attend thrice weekly lessons to prepare for the Anterior Courtship displays. Today’s lesson had been focused on Combat.

Thierry and Denzel had gotten off the lightest, only having to practice spells and weapons for accuracy and speed off to one side of the large Training Hall. The King and Maël, along with a small portion of the Royal Army, were directing mock battles outside of the city while Aimery and he dueled the best Royal Guardsman in residence.

It was all exhausting, inescapable work and would continue until they received letters rejecting or accepting their proposals. Calixto prayed to any listening deity that his proposal was rejected because if he was accepted then things were only going to get that much more complicated.

Today’s lesson, while exhausting, was not nearly as bad as the lessons focused on Knowledge or, Merlin help him, Creativity. Though if he were completely honest, they all suffered during the Creativity lessons and Maël and Denzel had it the worst during Knowledge lessons. Why anyone would choose Social Graces over Core Academics, he wasn’t entirely sure and Thierry had it easiest having chosen Specialization and being an accomplished Magical Architect to boot.

“This is not worth it,” Calixto groaned as he dropped down next to Thierry. “I don’t care if the Lund-Torres Heir is worth 1.52 billion Galleons!”

Aimery shook his head. “He’s likeable enough but the sheer number of suitors and the amount of rituals that need to be performed are too much work.”

“Father will drive us all away by the time March appears. I’m already so behind in my work due to these ridiculous lessons!” Thierry grumbled, wiping the sweat from his face with a towel.

Denzel massaged a cramp from his left arm. “Damn it, I don’t want to do this any longer! Between the muscle aches and the headaches I get memorizing information, I’ll collapse by the end of the month.”

“Not to mention those horrible Creativity lessons!” Aimery shuddered. “I don’t know what’s worse, reciting poetry or having to write it!”

“At least you aren’t being forced to memorize and sing a twenty verse ballad.” Thierry said sourly.

Calixto sighed, “Much as I loved learning to carve wood from Gaspar, I never thought I would have to waste my time and effort learning to carve the Torres’ Osprey or the Lund’s Stags.”

“I’m so sick of learning love ballads to play on my lute.” Denzel agreed. “Mind you, I’d rather have two Creativity lessons over the Knowledge lessons. I don’t know who is worse, grandfather or father! If I never have to look at another family tapestry I will consider myself lucky! I thought our family was confusing? No, the Focalor tapestry puts our family tapestry to shame!”

The four fell silent as they drank their water and wished themselves anywhere but where they currently were. March could not come soon enough.

---

The Lounge
Basurto Hall, Fortaleza, Brazil
Friday the 17th of January 1975
10:48 PM


Luiz calmly watched his men enter the dimly lit room, gauging their moods. Since the failed extraction orchestrated by his ex-subordinate Diego, he had noticed an increase in tension among the rest of his subordinates. Few of them had been present when he had first taken the reins as leader of this organization and though there were many interesting stories about him, it was quite another thing to see actual proof.

Less than a week after being placed in the black book, Diego had been picked up in the slums of St. Petersburg and brought back to Brazil to face his punishment. Failure was paid for in blood and in Diego’s case, exposing their organization as he had in front of the eyes of the crème de la crème of the Wizarding World was inexcusable. Luiz had made Diego’s execution very public to the members of his organization and released some of his stress at the same time.

As the last of his subordinates took their seat at the U-shaped table, Luiz snapped his fingers. Silver, gem studded goblets appeared in front of each seated member and though there was no visible sign of tension from his subordinates Luiz knew that they were nervous. This particular game of chance was only ever used on new members or if he was supremely displeased with someone. For him to choose to force all of the members to undergo this nerve racking trial was a true sign of his irritation at the inadequacy of his men.

To his right were Oxyuranus (Taipan), Aipysurus (Green Snake), Pelamis (Sea Snake) and Bungarus (Krait). On his left were Notechis (Tiger Snake), Echis (Viper), Crotalus (Rattlesnake) and Naja (Cobra). These eight served him directly and only he knew their true identities. To the rest of the organization they were only distinguishable by the silver snake circlets they wore as everyone in the organization went covered from head to toe with only their eyes and mouth uncovered. One of these eight would one day ascend to the position he now held but like all those who had come before him, he would not yield his position until he breathed his last. (4)

Luiz smiled coolly in greeting. “If you would Naja, please make your selection.”

An Ebony wand flicked a dark crimson ruby twice and a dark golden liquid filled the goblet. Blue eyes turned in his direction and Luiz gestured for Naja to continue. With no hesitation, the goblet was raised and quickly drained of its contents. As was proper, Naja held the goblet upside down to show that it was empty. Once Naja had set their goblet down, Crotalus made their selection choosing the emerald which resulted in a thick, clear liquid.

Less than ten minutes later, the eight had made their selections and waited silently to see what would happen now. Pelamis and Echis, who selected sapphire, had to drink a neon green liquid while Oxyuranus chose diamond and drank a runny orange liquid. Notechis also chose emerald and Aipysurus and Bungarus selected ruby like Naja.

Ten minutes passed before Luiz spoke, now assured that all the liquids had begun to affect their drinker.

“Oxyuranus…you chose wisely and are not under the effect of any potion or poison. Naja, Bungarus and Aipysurus are not so fortunate as you have just imbibed over steeped Felix Felicius and will be cursed with bad luck for the next twelve hours.”

While the four absorbed this information with varying degrees of relief and tension, Luiz observed the remaining four.

“I will dismiss Pelamis and Echis from our gathering this evening as they have just drunk diluted Basilisk venom. Should either of you survive, please present yourself to me at this time tomorrow night.”

The two quickly rose from their chairs and walked unsteadily out of the room, dread rising with each step. Notechis and Crotalus were obviously nervous as they both shifted in their chairs.

Luiz smiled at them, dark brown eyes alight with amusement. “As for our last two you have nothing to fear…so long as you aren’t harboring any dark secrets.”

Resigned, but assured that they at least were not staring at Death, the two simply waited.

“My dear Notechis why do you think I want to secure the Lund-Torres heir?”

“Likely you desire to use his formidable powers to intimidate or crush your enemies. How you intend to do so I am not certain.”

“Crotalus do you think we can succeed?”

“No, and I think it foolish to even try. Diego’s extraction team met a most public and gruesome end. To challenge a Squall is suicide and may rouse the fury of other Harpies.”

Luiz shook his head. “It is that sort of thinking that will prevent you from ever rising to become Dux. Are you loyal to me?”

Crotalus struggled for a moment. “I have served you faithfully for nine years but I now doubt your leadership skills.”

“Hmm I see, and you Notechis? Are you loyal?”

“I am skeptical that we will succeed but you have not led us astray yet.”

“Which among you eight would you say is the most valuable and which the least?” Luiz asked the two.

“Oxyuranus is the most useful as he is both cunning and loyal to you while Echis has no thought of their own and often makes brash decisions.”

Notechis nodded. “I agree that Oxyuranus is the most valuable to you but I personally think that Aipysurus is the least useful.”

Luiz snapped his fingers again and watched as the two drank the antidote. While it may have been interesting to learn more about what they thought of various matters, it would have violated the rules of this particular game.

“Now that my entertainment is finished, let us begin our meeting in earnest. How goes our plan to capture the Lund-Torres heir?”

“My contacts have told me that the boy is currently in training with Elder Asikis and cannot be reached at that location. Security has also tripled in Asturias itself and I have heard rumors that Prince Evaristo is urging his father to forsake tradition and allow his son to be granted a Private Guard force before his formal acknowledgement upon reaching his majority. There are few windows of opportunity in which a successful ambush will have a positive result.” Oxyuranus reported.

Naja spoke next. “I have been in contact with several of our agents in Scotland. They report that the defenses around the school have increased tenfold and the village itself is now boasting several full time Auror patrols. One of the agents is looking into using the Imperius to capture and then impersonate one of the train staff.”

“With the increase in security it will not be safe for our agents to re-enter Asturias in the foreseeable future. As far as I am aware, the investigation that Warlord Silvio has headed has come up with few facts. There have been at least four separate attempts to kidnap the Lund-Torres heir and they suspect more than one person behind these attempts. From what I have learned scouring the Underbelly, the first attempted kidnappers were part of a freelance mercenary company looking to make easy money. It is suspected that one of the later attempts was actually a disguised assassination attempt though I have not found signs of a formal bounty placed on the Lund-Torres heir.”

Luiz frowned, “The latter is troubling news but not entirely unexpected. Hopefully the Asturians are more vigilant now. It would be a great shame to lose such a powerful chess piece.”

Crotalus began his report at Luiz’s impatient gesture, “Neither father nor son were seen at any gatherings other than the Torres hosted affair on New Year’s Eve. The reasons are obvious to all and sundry and came directly from Prince Evaristo’s mouth as I overheard. A week ago the Seer was seen in attendance at the opening of Callinus Liatos’ new play in Athens. He also attended the celebration held afterward and spoke at length about the ACR proposals and which Families were currently in favor. As expected those candidates are all among the Haute Monde, though they range in age and status.”

“You have collected far more information than I had thought possible since our last gathering two weeks ago. For the time being, I would like you all to continue your investigations. We will meet again in one week. Crotalus, I want you to shift your attention to Prince Estavan and Warlord Silvio. I want to know what they are planning to do once the Season opens in April.” Luiz ordered before dismissing them.

---

The Dining Room
Golden Oak Hall, Leicester, UK
Saturday the 18th of January 1975
7:10 PM


As soon as the first course was served, Cuthbert looked at his Godson. “What do you make of the young Princeling?”

“You are referring to the Lund-Torres heir?”

“What have I told you about wasting time with pointless questions? Of course I’m talking about the Lund-Torres boy!”

Abraxas smiled slightly, “The media has accurately portrayed his public persona well and even in close company he remains unreadable. In my honest evaluation he is a consummate actor whose true motivations and ambitions are unknown. There is no doubt in my mind that he will become a force to reckon with in the future.”

Cuthbert frowned, “I shall have to meet him myself to gauge him then. What do you think of him Cassius?”

“I agree with father’s evaluation completely and would add that whatever his intentions are, they are grand. He has made every effort to expand his connections and though he spends a significant portion of his time with those of the Haute Monde, he rules no one out so long as they have some as of yet unidentified talent or skill. A perfect example for this is his close friendship with Severus Snape and Lucius. Snape is a Half-blood and his only exemplary skill is in Potions while Lucius’ only claims are the social and political connections we have as a Family. Neither is terribly impressive considering the other friendships that Lund-Torres could have cultivated. Within Slytherin alone are scions of at least half a dozen Haute Monde Families and the school as a whole has over twenty with a significant number at least two years within age of the boy.”

“Humph, I see. Perhaps your ambitions are not nearly as peculiar as I had first thought Tancred.”

Abraxas glanced at the only man that had yet to speak. “You have submitted an Anterior Courtship Ritual request as well?”

“It was a chance that I could not pass up.” Tancred answered plainly and then elaborated, knowing what the other was likely to ask next. “For the Knowledge task I have applied to use my Specialization in Ancient Rituals and for Combat I have selected Endurance.”

“You will be a formidable opponent,” Cassius commented, knowing that Lucius would have to put all his effort into his own training if he hoped to compete well.

Tancred inclined his head. “Yes though I will not be the only one. I have attended quite a few dinners in recent weeks and learned that there will be several difficult opponents. Li Cheng is said to be a master of the traditional Asian Martial Arts while Ryuzaki Kisuke is rumored to be just as skilled in the less widely approved areas of that field. Then there are the great duelers who have submitted: Vittore Cargenven who holds the European Title, Melanie Barnes who holds the North American Title and Muileki Kubatsi who holds the African Title. While the Combat trial will be nightmarishly difficult, the Specialization field is no less perilous. Azorean Prince Thierry is the most highly credited Magical Architect in centuries and Tolan Najafian is the only known wizard in modern times to safely deconstruct the curses on the ancient Ziggurats.”

“A Cargenven is competing? That will skew the Endurance trials significantly. Aodh must approve of the boy if he convinced Vittore to submit a request.” Cuthbert mused. “I heard from Beatrix Perry that Prince Valdemar Wifstrand, Hassan Sindhom, Yanagi Gesshin, Pallas Kyris and Edward Miller will all be competing in the Combat Tactics trial. I pity anyone who will face them.”

Abraxas winced visibly at the news. If all were accepted Lucius’ odds of passing the Combat portion of the trials was slim to none. Each of the five members were widely known for their skill in Wizarding Chess and other strategic games. It was said that they often met once a year to test their skills in a trial of one of their choosing. That one of them should choose this year’s testing ground to be the Lund-Torres Courtship was a daunting prospect.

“There are a vast number of heirs to large financially dominate Families that will be competing. The great Salem Heiress Selena Whitley has entered the Knowledge trials with Social Graces and the Combat with Precision. Sylvester Lafayette has selected the Knowledge trial under his family’s Wand Creation Specialization and has selected Precision for the Combat trials. There are a number of Liatos and Irungu competing as well so the Creativity trials will be most difficult as they are all great lovers of the arts.” Cassius added.

“I heard from Silas Melbourne that quite a few Royal and Noble Families also submitted requests. The Azores’ Delgado brood, Russia’s Govorov Imperial Family and the Noble Korolev and Volsky Families and Japan’s great Four– Asukai, Ichijo, Nomiya and Daigo. Then there are the Sultans of Antioch, Babylon, Nineveh, Akkad, Karatepe and Nippur.”

Tancred sighed, already feeling a headache developing. “There is no doubt in anyone’s mind that the Lund-Torres Courtship will easily be the most difficult this Season. Likely the Torres Family will use the most difficult challenges available to them to cut down the number of suitors. I have heard rumor that they will supplement the traditional Torres’ Way of Five with the Lund’s Rune Crafting, which will easily overcome at least half of the suitors that pass.”

Abraxas stared, silver eyes wide. “Where did you hear that from?”

“I happened to overhear Anacreon Liatos speaking with his sons Sophus and Tycho. Apparently those words came directly from Prince Evaristo himself.”

The two Malfoys exchanged dismayed looks which caused Cuthbert to laugh at length. All eyes turned to the usually surly old wizard.

“Hahaha! If the boy is anything like his sire, you will need all the help you can get nephew! Now I really must meet this boy and test his mettle myself!” Cuthbert chortled with glee.

Tancred and Abraxas exchanged looks of long suffering. Things almost always went bad when Cuthbert found something funny.

---

The Training Yard
Asikis Hall, Rhodope Mountains, Greece
Sunday the 19th of January 1975
8:49 AM


Anastas wiped his face with a small hand towel trying to keep his anger leashed as Zayle Asikis, his normally cheerful trainer, started shouting at him for his poor performance that morning. Having gotten barely any sleep last night and then waking due to having flashbacks of the past, Anastas was already in a very bad mood. It had been like this ever since he set foot in the mountains and he wasn’t sure what to think of it.

He was lucky if he could grab an hour or two of undisturbed rest a night before being woken up from some strange dream. It was unusual for him to dream of the past as much as he had been recently but the strange thing was that he could have sworn that things had changed from what he remembered. Of course, it might be meddling with his memories but it had no reason to do that and if that was it’s intention, it would have just altered his memories to make him more subservient to its will.

That he had managed this many days with such poor sleep was a testament to his own hardiness and determination. Elder Asikis had washed his hands of him barely a week into his stay and now it appeared that Zayle had reached the end of his tolerance as well. Neither were as frustrated as he himself though and it was taking everything Anastas had not to lose control of himself.

The mind numbing drills that Odysseus and Asikis Harpies had taught him had become a struggle recently and the constant droning of his therapontes was slowly driving him over the edge. His control was almost nonexistent and with every day he could feel it erode just a little more. Soon, all it would take would be one minor loss in control and who knew what would happen.

Correction, he did know what would happen. The Diablo would return again in all its mindless, destructive glory. And wouldn’t that draw all sorts of curious attention that he couldn’t afford? Not to mention it would be like spilling blood in shark infested waters to lose control here in the heart of the Asikis territory.

Every way he looked at it there was only one option left and as much as he loathed acknowledging the option at all, it would serve him beyond words. His sanity was already slowly degenerating and according to it, there was never going to be a way to escape it anyway so he might as well live it up.

It was times like these that he hated his survival instinct. Had he been a stronger person perhaps he would have just embraced his death and let that be the end of it. Assuming, of course, that there was an end available to him. For all he knew, the modifications had made him more than mortal. It had hinted something similar to that before after all.

“…paying attention to anything I’m saying?!” Zayle shouted, drawing Anastas’ attention.

Anastas bowed perfectly. “I apologize, I have not been sleeping well and it has impaired my actions this morning.”

Zayle glared at him. “Perhaps you should see a Healer if you are having some difficulties! We will meet again on Wednesday morning at the usual time.”

“Of course, thank you.” Anastas said before he left the Training Yard.

He was really beginning to hate being here. Few of the Harpies even acknowledged his presence and their constant disdainful looks was grating on his nerves. That he looked weak and incompetent in front of them galled him to no ends and he had to resist the urge to pound some of the sneering faces that he had glimpsed in the last week. If there was any justice in this choice that wasn’t really a bloody choice, it was the fact that once he accepted its help, he would have full mastery over his Harpy abilities with little to no trouble or effort on his part.

Still, he hated the fact that it knew him better than he knew himself. It had been silent after their argument earlier in the month, knowing that the words it had spoken had twisted and churned in his mind, giving him no respite. The truth in its words had flayed him and unearthed the root of his insecurities and mocked his tentative goals.

It was right of course, a fact that annoyed him to no ends.

Running away from his lingering demons and burying the past had done nothing but make him weak. The years in prison had made him crave destruction and revenge but was there really any point to it here in this world? It was clear that he needed to take a step back and review his options. This was an entirely new world, filled with unending possibilities. Nothing was yet set in stone and it was time to really face up to the things he had done and seen. He would face the demons in his past and come out the stronger for it.

Anastas needed its help and in the end having its aid could only improve his situation. After all, he was already damned what more harm could their association do to him? He would worry about the future after he straightened out his life and his new identity.

Now came the hardest part, he would have to place himself in the tender mercies of the one being that could always see through him, mask or no mask. It was the only option he had but he could not help but feel as though he were either narrowly avoiding a great disaster or walking closer to it.

---

The Solar
Cardozo Villa, Portugal
Sunday the 19th of January 1975
11:55 PM


Araceli quietly sipped her tea as she sat near the large windows overlooking the grounds of her residence. It was the first time in several years that she had come to stay at her childhood home and likely it would not be her last. This Solar had been her mother’s creation, the flowers that perfumed the air cultivated by her hand and the bubbling fountain created by her designs. The room had always been her sanctuary from the world and her duties.

Things had not been the same since last weekend’s family gathering. There was a tension present that had never existed before and a strange awkwardness when conversation was initiated. Evaristo had gone out of his way to avoid her and likewise, she too had avoided him. The courtiers had noticed the odd behavior and had speculated at length where they thought it safe, but all those speculations had come to an end Thursday evening when Estavan had made his announcement about the rite of passage that Anastas would undergo.

All the preposterous speculations that had fluttered around the Court before the announcement paled in comparison to the outlandish and nearly treasonous speculations that occurred in its wake. They ranged from the Torres’ needing a large influx of money to cover either a hidden project or a debt, to whispers of eliminating a future threat by the means of the ancient Cuélebre slaying tradition. Ironically enough all previous rumors mentioning the possibility of Anastas usurping the throne had conveniently been forgotten.

The sheer fickleness of people never ceased to annoy and frustrate her.

Many had correctly guessed that the rift in the family had occurred when the idea of a rite of passage had been first discussed and many thought that she had not been in favor of it. No one but those in attendance knew the truth about the rift and her decision to leave the Court, which had outright shocked the courtiers and sent others into deep contemplation. Whatever had caused the rift had been great indeed to send a member of the Royal Family into what could be construed as exile.

In truth Evaristo’s words had shaken her badly. They had always known about his Gift and how he used it for the sake of the Family but until that gathering, none of them had ever seen it used on one of their own. His words had erased the fears that had plagued her but she felt no more at ease now then she did months ago. Evaristo had claimed that Anastas posed no threat to the Family and had even gone so far as to say that he fully supported and condoned whatever Anastas intended.

It had been that…endorsement, more than the fears and worries that had plagued her, which had caused her to leave Asturias.

Araceli set her teacup down and closed her eyes, wishing she could forget that day. Alas she, unlike her great-grandson Guiomar, could not be allowed the luxury of a Memory Charm.

---

FLASHBACK

---

The drizzle and chill wind had driven all the Muggles indoors and kept them there which made it a perfect day for a properly attired wizard or witch, to take a leisurely walk around Oviedo without drawing too much undue attention. Araceli had been on her way back to the Palacio after an afternoon spent with a group of old friends. Instead of Flooing home, she had decided to stretch her legs with a short walk and instead had left the restaurant on foot. As they had decided to dine at a Muggle restaurant, she had only brought with her three of her best guardsmen.

As they turned a corner approaching the main street that would lead them back to the Wizarding portion of Oviedo, they came across a very tense situation. On the opposite side of the street was a pair of strangely dressed wizards, holding Guiomar in front of them at wand point with four very dead Royal Guardsmen sprawled out along the sidewalk. Several feet in front of them stood Anastas, his gray eyes keenly watchful as they shifted between the two attackers and Guiomar. Her startled gasp had drawn the attention of the two attacking wizards and for several moments furtive looks were exchanged between the three separate groups.

Tension mounted until it reached a breaking point and then Anastas burst into action.

A sudden, sharp gust of wind and heavy rain blinded the two attackers. The one holding Guiomar tightened his grip and stepped back while the other launched himself at Anastas, who darted to the side keeping Guiomar’s attacker between them. Another gust of wind slammed into the attackers, this time swirling around them and tearing their wands free of their grasp. Anastas closed in on them striking out with his feet and fists until he had gotten Guiomar free. Casting the younger boy behind him and to the ground, Anastas freed a pair of knives from his robe and quickly finished the two off.

It was ugly. One had his throat cut open, spraying blood all over Anastas and the other was neatly hamstrung and then stabbed several times. All of this happened in less than two minutes, with an ease that spoke of experience and a precision that was simply chilling. The rain which had intensified into an outright downpour washed the blood on the sidewalk down into a nearby drain.

One of her guards crossed the street and exchanged a few words with Anastas. After a few terse words that she could not catch, the guard picked a shocked Guiomar off the sidewalk and returned to her side.

“We should take your emergency Portkey back to the Palacio. He will stay with the bodies until the Warlord sends someone to collect them.”

Araceli looked over Guiomar and then glanced back at Anastas. “They are unharmed?”

“Prince Guiomar has some burns but is otherwise healthy. Prince Anastas did not appear to be hurt but with this rain and the…condition of his clothing I cannot say.”

“Let us go then, the sooner we alert Silvio the sooner both can be examined.”

As they clustered together, grabbing hold of a thin rope, Araceli glanced back at Anastas and saw him watching them. Her breath froze at the expression on his face.

---

END FLASHBACK

---

After Guiomar and Anastas had been treated for minor burns and a few scrapes and bruises, it was decided that Guiomar should have his Memory altered slightly. He was now under the impression that another group had attempted to kidnap both of them and Anastas had saved them both. Oddly enough, he never once asked what had happened to the would-be ‘kidnappers’.

That Anastas had killed them did not disturb her, it was self-defense after all, but the look in his eyes and way he had killed them simply caused her skin to crawl. Araceli was aware of his intentions and no matter how noble they may be, she could not justify the lengths he would go to in order to achieve them. Those wizards were not the first he had killed and she knew without a doubt that they would not be the last. Ruthlessness was sometimes called for but she could not condone nor support such cold blooded murder and manipulation.

Certain in Evaristo’s words, Araceli had returned to Portugal, secure in the knowledge that whatever he intended, Anastas would not destroy her family. From what she had seen, he was more likely to destroy that nameless enemy of his and then himself. That, at least, was what she hoped and prayed for.

---

Anastas’ Bedroom
Asikis Hall, Rhodope Mountains, Greece
Monday the 20th of January 1975
1:04 AM


The room was completely secure by Anastas’ estimation which, after nearly two hours, was a relief. In a way he had less to fear being revealed here than if he were in a Wizarding area but still, there were some things (namely his questionable guest) that he never wanted anyone to know about. Having spent the day considering his next move, Anastas had decided that if he intended to center himself in this world, there were two loose ends that would need to be taken care of first. Both tasks he would have to trust to the other and that in itself was a frightening idea, albeit a necessary one.

With a final check of the room Anastas stepped in front of the ornate mirror and removed the sheet he had placed over it and looked at his reflection. Almost instantly, that familiar cloaked figure appeared directly behind his left shoulder.

- At last you have decided to confront me outright! It pleases me to see you regain that authoritative behavior that attracted me to you. What would you like to tell me? - It prompted, its hands idly caressing his shoulders.

“I have considered your words and have found that most of it holds truth. Perhaps the years of confinement have caused me to act rashly. Regardless, it is clear to me that I need to gather more information about the conditions in this world and what I can do with my life before making any other decisions. There is no one in this world that knows me as you do, much as I despise admitting it and so I would like your help in these endeavors.” Anastas explained.

It practically purred with delight. - I knew that you would see reason eventually! Of course I would be happy to help you…but there is always a price to be paid. -

Anastas snorted, “I’m well aware and what I propose may satisfy you. Your talents as you have said, are best applied in manifesting abilities that would otherwise remain dormant. Due to the nature of our close association, you have essentially made me into an entirely new person with abilities that should not have ever occurred naturally. If you are willing, I need you to assemble for me a group of individuals enhanced by you who can move and act freely where I cannot. When that group is assembled, I need you to form a temporary bond with one of them and use them as a whole to collect information on this world and its people and anything else I may require later on. During this time, I will focus my attention on moving forward and letting the past remain in the world we left behind. Only after I evaluate the information you collect will I make a decision about what I wish to do in this world.”

- What an interesting turn of events, though I admit I am quite pleased with your decision. I am willing to do as you ask, though I wish a favor of you in return, one that I may collect at my choosing at a later date. -

“Do you truly need this favor? You have said often enough that we are so closely tied that there will never be any escaping you. I may not like it but I’ve decided to accept the inevitable. Patience has always been your virtue, do you disclaim it now?”

It chuckled as it wrapped its arms around his neck and leaned its head upon his shoulder. - Oh I can wait…especially now that you’ve made the waiting all that much sweeter. -

Anastas resisted the urge to shake off the cool, non-corporeal touch. “Good. First I want you to give me mastery of my Harpy abilities so that I can leave the Asikis without causing any further worries. I’ve decided that I won’t return to Hogwarts this year, there are too many things that I must work through first before I go back. After I return to Asturias, there is one task that you must complete before I can safely retreat to await the information you will gather for me. There is an item that I need retrieved…”

---

The Fourth Year Boys Slytherin Dormitory
Hogwarts, Scotland
Tuesday the 21st of January 1975
10:20 PM


“The Focalor Family is Matrilineal and has been Pureblooded for over sixteen centuries. Their main residence is the Focalor Aerie located somewhere in the Alsace region of Eastern France. Alauda Focalor was born in 1876 and became Matriarch of the Family in 1908. On June 16th 1894 she married Vespasien Bigeot whom she had three children with, Linnet, Bateleur, and Gavia.” Lucius recited, staring at the ceiling.

Severus, looking disgruntled, prompted him. “The current familial alliances?”

Lucius frowned. “By infusing their bloodlines with Veela and Harpies periodically they have managed to diversify their bloodline, which often results in the witches of the Family being more powerful than their wizard counterparts. In forming familial alliances, this gives the Focalors an advantage as many of the Pureblood Families that belong to the Haute Monde are often stronger patrilineally. Currently the Focalors have strong alliances with several European Families, as well as some North American Families. Incidentally I can claim a minor relation to Harpagus Focalor, who is uncle to the Matriarch, as his grandson Pandion married a distant cousin of mine Circe Malfoy.”

“The primary branch succession?”

“First in line is Alauda’s eldest daughter Linnet Focalor, second in line is Linnet’s daughter Rallina, third in line is Rallina’s daughter Cinnyris and fourth in line is Cinnyris’ daughter Ducula.”

Severus cast away the scroll in his hand with a grumble of relief. “Now we are finally finished for the evening!”

Lucius stretched lazily. “I wish I was as good at one subject as you, and then I wouldn’t have to study all these endless scrolls.”

“You are an idiot plain and simple. While it would be impressive to score well in the Social Graces trial, it would have been less painful if you had chosen Core Academics instead. The only ones who can stand any chance in Social Graces are those who are obsessed with gossip, genealogy and decorum. Truly the lengths you are willing to go to prove yourself is admirable but you will drive yourself to the end of your endurance at this rate.”

“I must make a good showing of my talents.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “After the last letter you received you will have to work a thousand times harder if you even hope to compete well.”

“Anastas is worth it.”

“So says the lovesick fool.”

Lucius glared, “I’m no calf-eyed Hufflepuff Severus.”

“It’s only a matter of time.”

Wilkes and Arygris came into the room, carrying their Transfiguration books.

“…asking Naomi to the next Hogsmeade visit.”

“Her? You do know her older sister is the one that founded that school in New Zealand?”

“I know, it’s not like I’m proposing or anything!” Wilkes protested.

Argyris dumped his book and scroll on the end of his bed before collapsing backward. “You two done already for the night?”

“Yes.”

Wilkes shook his head. “I’ve never been happier to be less than eight centuries Pureblood or my parents would have submitted a request in my name too.”

Severus frowned, “If your mother was anything like mine, you would not be so lucky.”

“Then it’s a good thing my mother is too busy with her animals to care about such things.”

“When do you think Anastas will be back?”

“Probably sometime next month,” Lucius guessed. “It can’t take that long after all to learn whatever it is he went to learn.”

Wilkes shrugged, “Who can say? Harpies are extremely powerful after all and the way they use their magic is very different.”

Argyris yawned, “I’m just happy that half the school is too busy studying to cause any problems. Even the Marauders have stopped playing pranks.”

“If they didn’t they would get cursed beyond recognition since everyone is under so much stress. Between the usual schoolwork or exam anxieties and all this miscellaneous studying, lots of students have developed short tempers. Once March appears, everything will go back to normal probably.”

“That’s all wishful thinking in my opinion. With Anastas attending school here, things won’t ever be ‘normal’ again.” Wilkes pointed out before changing into his pajamas.

---

The Training Yard
Asikis Hall, Rhodope Mountains, Greece
Wednesday the 22nd of January 1975
7:54 AM


Anastas stood in the center of the Training Yard, waiting for Zayle to arrive. He had spent the last three days closeted in his room, spending hours unconscious as his ever so helpful parasite gave him mastery over his Harpy abilities. Since then he had tested his control in the privacy of his room but the session with Zayle would be the true test of his abilities.

Originally he had had fourteen therapontes but after the Incident, he had managed to acquire another eight. While it was an extremely impressive feat to have twenty-two therapontes, Odysseus and later Sarpedon, were utterly perplexed at the odd affinities of his new therapontes. There were two therapontes attuned to the element of either wood or flora, five therapontes that were either attuned to metal or had some dominion over gravity, and the final therapôn, scarily enough, seemed to be attuned to all the known elements.

He supposed that this made up for the fact that he only had an affinity for wind but it had caused no end of complications. For one, it had fascinated the Harpies to no ends and caused quite a bit of jealousy. That he, who had very distant Harpy blood, had managed to manifest not only as a Squall but to have such powerful therapontes had pricked at the pride of quite a few of the Harpies. No doubt that was what had frustrated Elder Asikis to the point of assigning his son to be his trainer, that he had so much potential and so poor control was simply too aggravating.

It may appear strange for him to gain such control in a matter of a few days but hopefully his departure later this afternoon, he hoped, would halt their curiosity. There was no need to stay here if he had already mastered all that he would need to know about his abilities, not when there was so much to be done.

Zayle grumbled irritably as he approached his student. If the young tiercel could not handle today’s lesson, one of the most basic, then he too would wash his hands of such a student. As he set foot into the Training Yard, he paused. His student stood alone in the Training Yard, eyes closed as his upturned face was tilted toward the cloud covered sky. Something had changed, that much he could tell.

Smiling slightly Zayle continued forward, perhaps now they would finally see what the tiercel was capable of.

---

The Basement
The Golden Hind, Western Antioch
Sunday the 26th of January 1975
10:29 AM


Joseph Murdoch was no stranger to danger, having spent the majority of his life living as a Mercenary. It was an occupation that suited him perfectly, allowing him the freedom to live a life on the knife’s edge while making a fortune. Many of those who ended up in the profession had a very open mind when it came to magic and its uses. Some would say that mercenaries lacked morals but there was a code of sorts that governed their actions though only those in the trade were aware of it. As one might expect, murder and torture or sabotage and thievery were not violations. For many that was simply how they earned their bread and butter.

The few things that were punishable offenses numbered three. Firstly, a Mercenary never, ever sells out another Mercenary. Secondly, respect is always due to those who have seniority in the trade and lastly, no Mercenary contracts are allowed to be taken out on another Mercenary, their family or those under their protection. These were the rules that the Mercenaries lived by and these were the rules that kept the trade as fair as it could be.

To outsiders it may look as though all Mercenaries are the same but that, of course, is not the case. For instance, if one wants an item ‘recovered’ it was in their best interest to take a contract with the Nifflers, if you want someone dead you see the Grims, if you want someone roughed up you go see the Nundus, Augeries were best for work that involved people and Kelpies were used for anything that required subterfuge.

Murdoch had never belonged to any of five esteemed Mercenary companies. He was among the two or three dozen Mercenaries who worked alone and could do whatever was needed. Only three others had more seniority than him, though he was only one left that had the freedom to act.

Rupert Borden and his crew had stupidly taken a job that no veteran Mercenary should have even considered. They had attempted to kidnap the Lund-Torres heir and now they were rotting in some dungeon in Asturias.

When he had gotten wind of the news, a few hours after events had unfolded he had scoffed. “Interfering with Purebloods can be dangerous, robbing Nobility can get you killed, but if you’re stupid enough to so much as cough on Royalty you’re going to die, painfully.”

And he was right. The damned Asturians had been ruthless. Borden’s crew had been tortured until they sang like songbirds about every goddamned thing they knew. They hadn’t been allowed to die though, the Torres’ were after blood and they couldn’t openly attack unless they had proof and Borden’s crew was it. Now the Asturians were on the trail, looking for the client that had issued the contract practically thirsting for blood and willing to do anything to get it.

Murdoch would have thought that Borden’s fall from grace would have been object lesson enough for the other Mercenaries. Sadly, the idiocy didn’t end there.

Two Grims ended up very dead less than three weeks after Borden’s crew wound up in a cell in Asturias. This time, they had stupidly tried to kill the Lund-Torres Heir and gotten ripped apart in spectacular fashion. Prince Estavan was not amused at the attempt on his grandson and had sent the remains, and a curt letter, to the most well known Mercenary gathering place– the infamous Golden Hind.

As he was the senior most Mercenary present, Murdoch had had the dubious honor of opening the package and reading the contents of that letter to the room at large. It was a very clear and concise letter which basically told the Mercenaries as a whole that if anyone accepted a contract that had anything to do with the Lund-Torres Heir or Asturias, the Prince would whip the elite Purebloods into a law abiding frenzy and have the organization stomped out.

Murdoch had taken the warning to heart, knowing that it would be the only warning they would get before that threat became a reality. None of the other Mercenaries had any problems when he declared that Asturias and the Lund-Torres Heir were now off limit. No one else was greedy or stupid enough to get involved now that eight of their number had either wound up dead or were currently living under a death sentence.

The months following had been quiet and filled with the same usual business. Mercenaries came and went as they often did and new recruits filled in the empty ranks of those that hadn’t survived their contracts.

It was a rainy Sunday morning and Murdoch was calmly indulging in a few drinks as he cleaned his favorite set of knives. Business had been slow today as few wanted to venture out in the downpour. The few Mercenaries in the basement of the Golden Hind were relaxing over drinks and cards as they reminisced about money, women and thrilling jobs.

A subtle shift in the room caused him to look up from his task, looking warily around the smoke filled room. At the base of the stairs was a lithe figure in black. Murdoch tensed as he felt the stranger look in his direction. Instinct told him that whoever this person was, they were dangerous. It took years of experience to act nonchalant as the stranger wove through the room and headed directly for him.

“Are you Murdoch?”

“Yes.”

“I’d like to offer you a contract.”

“I’m listening.”

The stranger stared down at him. “I need to arrange an…accident.”

“How much are you offering and who?”

“Money is no object. As for the target, it’s not so much a person as an event. I need a large disturbance caused at the first Anterior Courtship gathering to be held in the honor of Anastas Lund-Torres.”

Murdoch shook his head immediately. “No way, not for all the money in Gringotts.”

The stranger tensed visibly. “It should be a simple enough task.”

“None of the Mercenaries want anything to do with anyone connected to Asturias. We lost enough men to the Asturians.”

The stranger turned away. “Very well, I will take my business elsewhere.”

“Please do.” Murdoch retorted, returning to his original task. The minute after the stranger had gone Murdoch emptied his shot of Firewhisky feeling troubled.

There was something about the Lund-Torres heir that just seemed to attract attention and trouble. Murdoch knew that this would not be the last person to approach the Mercenaries with a contract involving the powerful wizard. If their way of life was to be preserved he would have to use all his resources to keep track of what his fellow comrades were doing.

Clients, in his experience, rarely looked ahead at the future and their long distance goals were not always well thought out. The Lund-Torres heir may be an untrained wizard of good blood and great power but someday he would be a wizard that could not be challenged. Raised under the scrutiny of the Haute Monde and a treacherous Royal Court, there was no way that the wizard wouldn’t grow to be intelligent and ruthless. Surviving to adulthood in such an atmosphere would require it and while he may not be at liberty to act openly against those that slighted him, he would remember each transgression and take the proper due later when his position in the world was assured.

Making an enemy out of such a potentially dangerous wizard was only a mistake the idiotic or the desperate would make and he was neither.

---

The Pontic Mountains, Turkey
Monday the 27th of January 1975
3:48 AM


“What are you doing here?”

“I am under orders.”

Evaristo sighed with obvious frustration. “Obviously, you could not have borrowed his body and gotten so far with it if you had not had his permission. Perhaps what I should have asked is what are you planning on doing now that you have his trust?”

“I desire many things and his safety is foremost in my mind. Until he makes a decision about what he wishes to do, I will carry out the tasks assigned to me.”

“And when he makes a decision?”

A shrug. “His life, no– his very essence, is precious to me and irreplaceable. While I would be more at ease if he chose a less dangerous path, he would never be the one that I loved if he did not do what he thought right. My love will have every advantage that I can give him and every aid, no matter what the cost. His happiness is all that matters to me and I have promised to give him the life which he most deserves. The rest of the world will perish if it is his desire.”

“You can be content with the situation?”

“The constant exposure to mortal ideas has infected me over the years; it has made me crave things which I was never created to want, let alone have. For now the situation is bearable for me but in the future who can say? I will never put in him any unnecessary danger so even if I am tempted; there is one boundary that will always hold me back.”

“Will he remain stable with you sharing his body like this?”

“There has never been any danger in our sharing his body. Perhaps there once was but we have long since become used to each other’s presence, even if he is unaware of that fact. Regardless I will take the steps necessary to procure a suitable temporary host in order to conduct the tasks he has left me. I need only replicate my essence and transfer it to the temporary vessel.”

“Won’t that leave Anastas unprotected?”

“It would be like dividing my attention between two separate tasks really. There is no danger to either my host or the temporary vessel.”

“I see. Please be careful.”

“Have no fear; I know what I am doing.”

“…I hope so.” Evaristo murmured as he watched the other continue on his trek through the mountains.

---

Evaristo brooded as he slowly made his way back to Antioch.

While this course of action had always remained a possibility, he had never seriously thought that it would come to pass. Anastas had always been too focused on gaining the advantage in the forthcoming war and then single-handedly wiping out Voldemort, to give his passenger more attention than necessary. Evaristo had never seen anyone as trapped and damaged by the past as his son and though the path he had chosen was not one he expected, he was relieved that Anastas had finally decided to stop letting the past influence his choices for the future.

The future was always uncertain as the possibilities were constantly changing with each decision and action but with this choice Anastas had set back all the chaotic or disastrous futures that had remained available as immediate possibilities.

By his estimation, if Anastas stayed this course until April, the odds of a bloody and destructive war decreased by a quarter. If Anastas somehow managed to stay undecided until fall or even winter, the War itself could probably be put off for another several years unless some other unknown element provoked it. It was too soon yet to view the possibilities of a future wherein Anastas chooses to take no action but Evaristo guessed that if such possibilities existed, the War would take longer to be resolved but would be less destructive. In nearly all the current possible futures, the War would be highly destructive but extremely short, lasting at the most five years and at the least, several months.

It did not surprise him that in all the futures he had seen, spanning a decade of careful notation; Anastas not only was alive but always thrived. Evaristo attributed it to the ancient being that had taken residence in his son. It was a construct of pure energy and once it took refuge in a host, had unlimited potential. He had known of its existence of course but once it had fully woken in this world all the possible futures had been shifted to unbelievable extremes.

Still, Evaristo was determined to persevere no matter how difficult things became and he knew that events would only become worse. No one knew Anastas as he did and no matter what he had told his family, he had not chosen Anastas to be his heir due to any gains he would make for the family. Those reasons, which he kept to himself, simply surpassed such trivial things as influence or wealth.

---

Anastas’ Bedroom
Torres Villa, Luarca, Asturias
Tuesday the 4th of February 1975
8:00 AM


The room was bathed in the scent of lavender and Anastas’ twitching form was tucked under a mountain of blankets. When he had arrived he was on the edge of a dangerously high fever, one that his ‘houseguest’ had stimulated to avoid any unnecessary questions. From the moment he had settled down to sleep, he had relinquished control to his ally to pursue the goals that he himself could not carry out.

Anastas twisted in his bed as he was caught in the throws of yet another nightmare of the world he had left behind.

---

FLASHBACK

---

Thunder roared ominously as lightning flashed in the sky. A harsh wind blew through the battlefield clogging his nose with the scent of death and scorched earth. As he dragged his exhausted body through the charred battlefield, he could feel the blood on his clothes drying in sticky clumps.

Unidentifiable corpses lay scattered over the desolate field as the dark clouds twisted and writhed above like a pile of squirming maggots seeking sustenance. A year ago such a scene would have sent him to his knees emptying the contents of his stomach, but today it just left him feeling empty.

How he longed for the days where he had been no one of importance and had no future to speak of. Better the misery of his childhood than the all-consuming guilt and sorrow that currently dogged his every footstep. Then he had had no purpose, no thought for the future, whereas now he had only one hopeless task and no one left but a voice in his mind to keep him sane.

This desolate field was devoid of life. The Maelstrom had firstly leeched all the nearby magic from every source available to it and then it had churned and churned, deeper and deeper as it collected until it hit a natural ley-line of magic. When the two came into contact, one unmoving, limitless force and the other traveling at enormous speeds, a backlash had ensued. All the power of the Maelstrom funneled back up like a pent up geyser and the raw magic was re-shaped into a massively destructive force. As the power flooded outward, it destroyed everything in its path as completely as a nuclear bomb.

Harry had set out to find power and that power had warped him into something unrecognizable. Now he felt like a monster, one whose appetite for bloodshed and destruction put all the stories of demons and monsters to shame. Why could they not have named him anything other than Diablo? Names, he had learned, had great power and the being that had taken refuge in his body had been only too happy to mold his power to suit the name they had given him.

As the rain pounded down from the heavens, Harry slowly trudged away from the wasteland. The rain soaked his clothes and washed away the blood and lingering smudges of dirt but the destructive magic that wafted from his form would remain. Isolated as he was from the world and coming out only to fight battles, he sank deeper and deeper into his own misery and guilt. For too long his only companions had been a nameless voice in his mind and a primitive, hungering beast that he was all too afraid was not a separate identity that his nameless companion had created.

Harry had to find Voldemort soon, before the madness or the guilt destroyed his sanity any further. Everything was not yet lost...but it was only a matter of time.

---

END FLASHBACK

---

With a shudder, Anastas came to full awareness. Blearily he stared at the canopy of his bed evaluating his situation. His body ached faintly but it was no longer fevered and his hair and skin was oily. Disgusted, he climbed out of bed and headed directly for his bathroom to take a shower.

Fifteen minutes later, he was dressed and searching the secret compartment in his room. A short note explained what had occurred during his dormancy and underneath that was a wooden chest. Lifting the lid he checked the contents inside with a mix of anxiety and relief.

A thick dragonhide book lay half covered by a thin strip of Null Fabric, held down by thirteen glass vials filled with a strange, glittering peach liquid.

Raising his hand, he reached out as if to touch the book and felt the familiar, grasping presence reach out to him. Satisfied that all was as it appeared to be, Anastas closed the chest and cast several difficult Locking and Warding Charms on the chest. Then he set two of his therapontes to guard the secret compartment.

Now that he had secured the greatest threat and unknown this world had, everything else could be left to fall out as it would.

---

Notes:

1) Vega is loosely translated from Arabic as ‘the falling eagle’ or ‘the swooping vulture’. In this context, the League uses the translation literally. They view him as an obvious threat whose motives are as of yet, unknown.

2) In Asturian Myth a Cuélebre is a giant, winged serpent that live in caves hoarding treasure and holding xana (akin to faires) prisoner. Cuélebre are immortal and the older they get their scales become more thick and impenetrable. On Midsummer night they are at their weakest and that is when brave men can try to slay the Cuélebre.

3) Every three years the magical Asturians have a festival in which they celebrate the longevity of the Kingdom. It is a two day festival and on the final day (which is Midsummer) seven wizards or witches can attempt to slay the Cuélebre. If a person succeeds they can claim all the treasure the Cuélebre was guarding and earn a noble rank.

4) Oxyuranus, Aipysurus, Pelamis, Bungarus, Notechis, Echis, Crotalus and Naja are all the Genus names of several different species of snakes. I picked these snakes because they are considered some of the most deadly and in some cases, are also very venomous. That should give you a clue about the nature of this organization that Luiz runs.

Regarding NO GOOD DEED: It will be written focused on the group of people that Not-Friend has been asked to assemble and will have a great deal of perspective from Not-Friend which is quite vital to the story. At the beginning of the next GI chapter and the NGD chapter there will be a notice explaining which chapter needs to be read first.

NEXT CHAPTER: Expect a time jump, flashbacks, lots more information about Anterior Courtship Rituals and hopefully, I will get around to properly introducing the Focalors.

Please review; I could really use the feedback!

-SheWolfe7 (4-19-08)