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HP: The Artisan's Path Chapter 106
🕑 Added 2025-07-15 10:36:13 +0000 UTCHi all,
Here’s the first chapter for the week. Made it on schedule, but this chapter is bigger than usual.
Chapter 106
Harry watched as Lynx stepped into the centre of the unicorn herd, her small form dwarfed by the magnificent creatures that had gathered around her.
Although he couldn't make out the words Lynx was speaking, Harry noticed something extraordinary happening. The unicorns' ears pricked forward with increasing attention, and their usual skittish behaviour had completely vanished. Instead, they displayed a focused intensity he'd never witnessed before. The mare lowered her head until her spiral horn nearly touched Lynx's forehead, and for several heartbeats, neither moved.
"It's like they're having a proper conversation," Gabrielle said.
Harry wondered what kind of ability made direct communication with magical creatures possible. Could this be why Lynx was so connected to them? And the reason she used to have followers among the Beast-kin.
After what felt like an eternity, Lynx stepped away from the Unicorns that had formed a protective circle around her. Her face bore a satisfied smile as she turned back towards the group.
"They have agreed to become my worshippers," she announced.
Before anyone could respond, a tiny blur shot out from between the trees. Harry recognised the newcomer immediately—Ivy, the dryad pixie who served as the grove's guardian. She was no larger than his hand, with gossamer wings and wild green hair that seemed to move with a life of its own.
Ivy landed on the back of the nearest unicorn, her miniature hands planted firmly on her hips in a gesture of unmistakable authority. "Hey, why didn't anyone consult me on this matter?"
Lynx tilted her head, studying the pixie with curious eyes. "Who is this midget?"
"Hi, Ivy," Harry said. "Haven't seen you in a while."
The pixie turned her attention to him. "That's because you never visit anymore. Who is this peculiar girl you've brought here, trying to steal my unicorns?"
Harry blinked in surprise. "I didn't know they belonged to you."
"Hmph," Ivy snorted. "Shows what you know."
Lynx looked between Harry and the pixie, her expression growing increasingly puzzled. "Harry, can you explain what's going on?"
"Ivy looks after the grove that the unicorns use to cleanse themselves of corruption," Harry explained, gesturing towards the deeper part of the woods where ancient trees formed a natural sanctuary. "If they don't perform the ritual regularly, they risk turning into Nightmares."
Lynx's eyes widened with interest. "I haven't heard of these creatures before. Tell me about them."
Harry's mind immediately went back to the Battle of Hogwarts, where he'd encountered one of the terrifying beasts firsthand. "Nightmares are what unicorns turn into when they become corrupted. This corruption can be as tiny as a speck of dirt or as powerful as the darkest magic. They're essentially the antithesis of everything pure about unicorns. They move with supernatural speed, possess incredible strength, and can put people into a coma, where they endure endless nightmares."
"Fascinating," Lynx murmured. "Harry, I need one of these Nightmares. They sound like they would make an excellent steed."
The unicorns immediately backed away from her, their ears flattening against their skulls and their eyes showing the whites in alarm.
Lynx frowned at their reaction, clearly not understanding why her words had caused such distress.
"You can't imagine how terrifying they are," Harry said. "If you expect one of these unicorns to transform into a Nightmare, then you can forget about them becoming your worshippers. That should definitely be written into the contract."
Lynx studied the retreating unicorns for a moment. "I understand. Perhaps I'll get lucky and come across one in the wild instead."
Harry suppressed a shudder at the thought of Lynx actively seeking out such a creature, but decided not to pursue the matter further.
Ivy fluttered her wings impatiently. "You still haven't explained what you're doing here in the first place."
Harry quickly outlined who Lynx was and the potential benefits of becoming one of her worshippers. He explained the magical contract and how it protected both parties involved.
When he finished, Ivy studied Lynx. "Do we have to bow down to you? Follow your orders without question? Do things against our will?"
"Worshippers have a completely different meaning in the fae realm," Lynx replied. "It's more of a mutual benefit arrangement that doesn't require anything beyond the exchange of magic. Although many deities would certainly abuse such a relationship."
“How can I be sure you won’t do the same?”
"This is why I offer magical contracts—to ensure I don't take advantage of my worshippers. I used to have followers in the fae realm who faced no restrictions whatsoever about severing the connection if they chose to leave. I can offer the same guarantee to the unicorns."
Ivy's expression shifted from suspicion to intrigue. "Interesting. Will the unicorns be leaving with you when you go?"
Lynx glanced at Harry. "That depends entirely on whether Harry can find me a suitable place where I can build a temple. I'd prefer it to be somewhere with a large rift, if possible."
"I know of a place," Harry said, thinking of the Sovereign Earth he'd recently acquired. "But it will take me some time to construct a temple there. In the meantime, the unicorns can remain here."
"Where do I sign up?” Ivy asked. “As long as I can relocate my grove to this new place, I don't mind exchanging some of my magic for additional benefits."
"You seem intelligent enough," Lynx said. "And the nature of this grove intrigues me."
"So, how does this work exactly?" Harry asked. "You mentioned it involved some sort of ritual?"
"Yes, we can perform it here," Lynx confirmed. "The ritual circle itself is simple enough to create, but we need to state the precise terms of the contract within it. I'm not particularly skilled with runes, so would you mind handling that part?"
Harry nodded. "Alright, but I expect answers to some of my questions afterwards."
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The ritual had been completed with surprising efficiency, and now Lynx danced around the clearing in obvious delight, celebrating the magic she'd gained from the unicorns. Harry found the entire affair rather anticlimactic—he'd expected dramatic fireworks or some sort of impressive magical display. Instead, after the ritual circle had flashed once to signal its completion, there had been nothing more.
Gabrielle approached the nearest unicorn to examine it more closely. "Hey, look at this. The unicorns have something growing out of their sides."
Harry, Apolline, and Seraphine moved closer to see what Gabrielle had discovered. Even Lynx stopped her celebratory dance and came over to investigate.
After studying the tiny protrusions carefully, Harry recognised what they were. "They're wings."
"You're right," Apolline agreed. "Although they're barely more than nubs at present. Are they going to grow larger?"
Lynx's eyes lit up with excitement. "How interesting. I didn't expect this development at all. Could the unicorns be turning into Pegasi?"
"They actually exist?" Harry asked.
"They used to," Gabrielle confirmed, her excitement evident. "There's plenty of documented evidence pointing to their existence. But they went extinct several centuries ago."
"The same holds true for the fae realm," Lynx said, her chest puffing out with obvious pride. "Am I brilliant or what? I've just brought back a powerful extinct magical creature."
"Yes, you're quite amazing," Harry replied. "Are Pegasi related to winged horses?"
"I don't think so, but we don't know nearly enough about them to be certain," Gabrielle admitted. "If they'll permit it, I'd very much like to study them."
"Pegasi are essentially superior versions of unicorns," Lynx said. "Not only can they fly, but all their positive traits are amplified whilst their negative characteristics are reduced."
"Could they still transform into Nightmares?" Gabrielle asked.
Lynx shrugged. "There's only one way to test that theory, and I rather doubt you'll let me try it."
"Absolutely not.”
"Just consider the possibilities, though," Lynx continued. "A Nightmare that can fly, bringing death and destruction from above. They could even take on dragons in the skies."
"That's not going to happen," Harry said. "Now, let's return to the important matter at hand. How many questions are these unicorns worth?"
Lynx held up one hand, displaying all five fingers. "Five questions, but not all are valued equally. I'll tell you what each question is worth before answering it, and then you can decide whether to proceed."
Pierre stepped forward from where he'd been observing quietly. "I know what one of those questions needs to address."
"Let me fetch my grandparents first," Harry said. "They'll want to hear the answers as well."
Ivy flew over and landed on his shoulder. "Don't forget about me. After seeing what the unicorns received from this arrangement, I can't wait for my turn."
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
They gathered in the Delacours' living room. Refreshments had been arranged on the low table, though most of them remained untouched with the gravity of their discussion ahead of them.
Harry's grandparents had arrived shortly after being summoned, with Charlus taking his usual position near the fireplace whilst Minerva settled into an armchair.
"What's your first question?" Lynx asked.
Harry glanced around the room, noting the expectant faces turned towards him. He knew what most of them wanted him to ask—the threat posed by the invaders was immediate and pressing, requiring urgent action. The question had been weighing on everyone's minds since the gates first appeared.
"We want to know how to shut down the gates," Harry said.
Lynx tilted her head thoughtfully. "That question is worth two of your five."
"What the hell?"
"Hear me out," Lynx said, raising her small hands in a placating gesture. "Before I can provide you with a proper answer, I need to give you background information for context. Trust me, you're getting the information quite cheaply considering its importance."
Harry looked around the room, catching the nods from his grandparents and Pierre.
"Alright," Harry said. "You have the floor."
Lynx rose from her cushion and began pacing the room, her movements reminiscent of a lecturer preparing to address students. Her expression grew serious as she gathered her thoughts.
"First, let me explain how I came to be here," she began. "I already told you that I'd confined myself to my temple in the fae realm, uninterested in the outside world's affairs. Lately, I got bored and decided to go out and explore. That's when I discovered the recent upheaval in the Fae Realm."
Charlus leaned forward. "Are you referring to the gates?"
"Partially," Lynx replied. "I investigated further and discovered that many of the deities had formed an alliance. Their goal was simple yet ambitious—to emigrate to Earth, where they could reestablish their dominance without interference."
Pierre’s brows furrowed. "That sounds ominous."
"They have little choice in the matter," Lynx continued, her pacing becoming more animated. "With the Source gaining power throughout the fae realm, their more egregious practices have been abolished, leaving them diminished and lacking their usual entertainment. They hatched a plan to open permanent gates to Earth. It isn't a terrible strategy, as they discovered the Source had a significant vulnerability."
Harry felt his pulse quicken. "From what I've heard of this Source, it sounds incredibly powerful. What vulnerability could it possibly have?"
"It's quite simple, really," Lynx said, pausing her pacing to face the group. "The Source cannot leave the Fae Realm. No one understands its origins or the true nature of its power, but it appears to derive that strength directly from the Fae Realm itself. In the deities' thinking, they only had to reach Earth to be free to act as they pleased. Rather short-sighted, in my opinion."
"Why do you say that?" Minerva asked.
"Just because the Source cannot come here physically doesn't mean it lacks influence in this world," Lynx explained. "If I were the Source, I would grant portions of my power to people here and cultivate them into champions capable of dealing with the deities' threat."
Harry froze, fighting to keep his expression neutral. The implications of Lynx's words struck him like a physical blow. Was this the reason the Source had granted him powers? To become some sort of champion tasked with saving the world? The entity had never asked for his opinion on the matter, never given him a choice in accepting such a monumental responsibility. If deities arrived at his doorstep tomorrow, he would naturally defend his family and friends, but the thought of being deliberately chosen for such a purpose was deeply unsettling.
Lynx continued, oblivious to Harry's internal turmoil. "To achieve their objectives, the deities faced several significant obstacles. Allow me to explain the methods that deities can use to travel here. First, if a human performs a specific ritual to summon a deity, they can make an exchange that allows the deity to travel here in a stable manner."
Charlus straightened. "I'm well aware of this method. But how is it actually achieved?"
"It's quite straightforward. Every wizard possesses a magical conduit that maintains a direct connection to the Fae Realm. It's similar to a rift in many ways. Deities can use this connection to travel here without risking an encounter with the Rift Guardian."
Pierre raised an eyebrow. "Rift Guardian?"
"I'll explain that in a moment," Lynx said. "Unfortunately for the deities, you need a specific ritual to summon them, and most of that information on them has been lost here. Furthermore, the method isn't without its issues, though that's beyond the scope of this conversation. Let's just say it cannot be used on a large scale, and only deities can employ it."
Harry nodded. "Another method to travel here would be to enter the portal that opens at the point of a rift collapsing."
Lynx's eyes widened. "I'm surprised you know this information."
Charlus looked sharply at his grandson. "Where did you come across that knowledge, Harry?"
"I'll explain later," Harry said, not wanting to derail the conversation.
Lynx resumed her explanation. "A gate can be formed through one of two methods. The latter is what Harry was referring to—the temporary portal that appears when a rift collapses. The other method involves creating an artificial gate."
"I don't know how Galahad managed it," Harry said, "but I think he did the world a tremendous disservice by creating them."
"Not much is known about how he achieved such a feat," Lynx agreed. "All we know is that it involves the first method I mentioned. He discovered a way to harness those temporary portals and transform them into permanent, stable gates."
Apolline shook her head. "From what I've heard of the man, he was undoubtedly a genius. But he should have asked himself—just because he could do something, did that mean he should?"
"Galahad wasn't entirely reckless," Lynx said. "He installed safety measures. The gates shouldn't have been able to activate without fulfilling a specific condition."
"What is that condition? Harry asked.
"Each gate possesses a lock that requires a complex ritual to open it," Lynx explained. "By completing this ritual, the gate becomes active, allowing the deities to travel here from the other side. To facilitate this process, the deities spread fraudulent research papers in certain academic circles. These papers played upon wizards' fears, providing them with what appeared to be a method to help restore the disappearing rifts and prevent magic from dying out. In reality, it was a complete fabrication. Certain wizards and witches around the world, believing this false research, were actually performing the deities' dirty work for them."
Harry snorted. "Who would be foolish enough to believe such obvious manipulation?"
Lynx's expression grew almost gleeful. "How about this—there was a certain individual who was responsible for unlocking the gates throughout Britain. But he died several months ago. Care to guess who that might be?"
The realisation hit Harry like a physical blow. "Dumbledore!"
"Precisely," Lynx confirmed. "Whoever killed him actually did the deities an enormous disservice. There are more gates concentrated in Britain than anywhere else in the world. His death set their plans back considerably."
Charlus's face darkened with anger. "He was always a stupid fool."
He paused, collecting himself. "If there are so many gates within Britain, why haven't we seen anyone come through them yet?"
"Haven't come through to your knowledge," Lynx corrected. "But the primary reason is that the most powerful factions within the Fae Realm are currently fighting amongst themselves over who gets to claim the gates. Once that decision is made, Britain is going to face tremendous turmoil."
The room fell into heavy silence as the implications of her words sank in. Pierre looked particularly concerned—not only did France have a gate that had recently appeared, but they were neighbours with Britain. They would undoubtedly be caught up in the chaos when the gates finally activated.
"Tell us about the Rift Guardian," Harry said.
"Ah, yes," Lynx said, her expression growing more serious. "The Rift Guardian is also known by another name—the Great Enemy."
Harry's grandparents exchanged startled glances with him. They knew that name from the prophecy Harry had received, though they hadn't heard it mentioned since. He already knew this bit of information, but hearing it from someone else reminded him that there could be an even more dangerous threat out there.
"It was the main obstacle preventing the fae realm from invading Earth," Lynx continued. "A powerful, enigmatic existence that frightens the deities even more than the Source does. But the first arrivals here received quite a surprise—they didn't encounter the Rift Guardian when they travelled through the dimensional space that exists between the gates. Neither did the others who followed. Their primary obstacle simply wasn't there."
Pierre frowned. "So, how does this information help us destroy the gates? You mentioned earlier that destroying the rift powering it would be sufficient to destabilise the gate."
"Yes, but it's also the most dangerous approach," Lynx said. "There's a possibility that the explosion would create a tear in the fabric of reality itself, potentially creating a more permanent entrance to the fae realm—or something far worse. Then there's the fact that it might not even work. The gates are powered from both sides. Destroying the rift on one side may not be sufficient to bring it down."
"Is there another solution?" Charlus asked,
"Indeed, there is," Lynx said. "Find the lock that prevented each gate from activating and reverse the original ritual. But I wouldn't be surprised if the invaders' main priority is to locate those locks and destroy them."
Harry felt frustration building in his chest. "You could have mentioned that option sooner."
Lynx shrugged with maddening casualness.
"Thank you for this information,” Pierre said. “If there's any other information you can provide about these locks, it would be greatly appreciated. For now, though, I believe we have enough intelligence to begin formulating a response."
Apolline glanced at her husband, then at Harry. "What about the remaining questions?"
"They belong to Harry," Pierre replied. "I trust he'll share anything of importance with us."
"Yeah, if only I knew what questions to ask," Harry muttered, running a hand through his hair. He'd thought he'd come prepared with a well-considered list, but the answers Lynx had provided today had only opened up more questions, creating an ever-widening web of uncertainty.
He found it both ironic and amusing in a twisted way that Dumbledore had been manipulated just as he had manipulated so many others, including Harry himself. Even if the former headmaster were alive today, he would undoubtedly deny such a thing, convinced of his own righteousness and superior judgment.
"There's also another type of gate that allows fae to travel here,” Lynx said, “but you'll need to use another question for me to reveal that information."
Harry frowned, considering Lynx's cryptic comment. What did she mean by "another type of gate"? The implication was clear enough—there was yet another method for fae creatures to reach Earth that she hadn't mentioned during her comprehensive explanation. But why bring it up now, only to withhold the information behind the cost of another question?
Should he use one of his remaining questions to learn about it? The decision wasn't one to make lightly. Harry had started this conversation with five questions, and after learning about how to shut down the gates—information that had cost him two questions—he now had only three left.
Harry weighed his options carefully. Until he could build the temple and gain access to more questions through additional worshippers, these three remaining questions were all he had. He couldn't afford to be hasty with such a limited resource, but he also couldn't afford to ignore potentially vital information.
He could take his time. He would spend the next two weeks focusing on his Knight training and give it more thought.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The Welsh mountains rose before them in layers of green and grey, their peaks shrouded in wisps of morning mist. The Thunderbird descended towards a secluded valley in Snowdonia, its engines barely audible as Elizabeth piloted the sleek aircraft through the mountain passes.
Harry checked his inventory one final time, ensuring he had everything he needed. He also brought the device. It remained silent in his pocket, but Harry hoped it might prove useful if they encountered more of Lewis's trail markers.
"There's your drop point," Elizabeth called from the cockpit, indicating a flat stretch of moorland beside a small lake. "I'll wait here whilst you complete your search. The Artisan Guild Knights expect us by evening, so we've got perhaps eight hours before we need to depart."
The aircraft settled on the ground. Lynx hopped down from her perch on the seat back. She had remained in her lynx form during the flight, finding the aircraft's movements more tolerable in her animal shape.
"Are you certain you don't want me to come with you?" Elizabeth asked. "These mountains can be treacherous."
"I'll be fine," Harry assured her. "I need to do this myself. Lewis might not trust strangers, assuming we actually find him."
He paused at the aircraft's ramp, looking back at the comfortable interior. Nagini had coiled herself across several seats, her massive form taking up a considerable portion of the cabin space. The great serpent lifted her head as Harry approached.
"You're certain you don't want to come?" Harry hissed.
"The mountains are cold, and I detect no prey worth hunting," Nagini replied. "I will remain here where it is warm."
"Keep an eye on Elizabeth. Make sure she doesn't get into any trouble while I'm gone."
"Of course, hatchling," Nagini replied, settling back into her coils.
Harry stepped off the ramp into the crisp Welsh air. The altitude made the morning noticeably cooler than the valleys below, and he pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders. Lynx immediately began exploring the immediate area, her enhanced senses cataloguing the various scents and sounds of the mountain environment.
According to Hermione's research, they needed to find Dinas Emrys—the hilltop fortress where Merlin had supposedly revealed the fighting dragons to King Vortigern. From there, they would need to locate the stone circle mentioned in Lewis's riddle, counting steps from what the clues suggested was "Arthur's throne."
"Ready?" Harry asked Lynx, who had transformed back into her human form.
"This is much more interesting than sitting in that metal contraption," she replied, stretching her arms above her head. "Lead the way, Harry. Let's see what secrets your friend has hidden in these mountains."
They set off across the moorland, following the trails that wound between the hills. The terrain was rougher than it appeared from the air, with hidden streams and patches of boggy ground that required careful navigation. Harry consulted his compass regularly, ensuring they maintained their heading towards the distant peak where the ruins of Dinas Emrys waited.
As they climbed higher, the views became increasingly spectacular. The valley spread out below them like a green tapestry, dotted with sheep and crossed by stone walls that had stood for centuries.
Harry could have used his broom or Windwalkers to shorten the trip, but walking the trail gave him a unique feeling. They had plenty of time, so there was no hurry in reaching their destination.
After two hours of steady climbing, they reached the summit where the ruins of Dinas Emrys occupied a commanding position overlooking the surrounding valleys. The ancient stones were weathered and moss-covered, but their original arrangement was still visible—circular walls surrounding what had once been a central keep.
"Legend goes, this is where Merlin revealed the fighting dragons," Harry said, consulting his notes. "They were red and white, representing the Britons and the Saxons."
Lynx nodded. "Dragons are powerful symbols in the fae realm as well.”
“Did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That Merlin was a deity? That these legends were deliberately made-up stories?”
“Never heard of him,” Lynx admitted. “He might be before my time.”
“Well, he did live a thousand years ago.”
Harry studied the riddle again. According to Hermione's research, there were several possible interpretations of "Arthur's throne," but the most likely candidate was a particular stone formation on the northern edge of the ruins.
They found the formation easily enough—a natural rock outcropping that had been shaped into a crude seat by centuries of wind and rain. Local legend claimed it was where Arthur had sat to hear Merlin's prophecies, though historians placed the actual Arthur several centuries after Dinas Emrys's heyday.
"Beneath the stones where water flows," Harry read aloud, then looked around the area. "There should be a stream or spring nearby."
They searched the immediate area systematically, and Lynx's enhanced senses soon detected the sound of running water. Following the sound, they discovered a small spring emerging from beneath a pile of stones about fifty paces from the "throne."
"This has to be it," Harry said, examining the stone arrangement more closely. The rocks had been deliberately positioned to channel the spring's flow, creating a small pool before the water continued down the hillside.
He began counting steps from the throne to the spring, then followed the water's course as it wound between the stones. After seventy-three steps, he found what he was looking for—a gap between two large boulders where the stream disappeared underground.
"There," he said, pointing to the narrow opening. "That's where Lewis would have hidden whatever he left behind."
The gap was barely large enough for a person to squeeze through, but Harry managed to wriggle inside. The space opened into a small natural cave, just large enough for him to stand upright. In the dim light filtering through the entrance, he could make out something white on the cave floor.
It was another mechanical bird, identical to the robin they'd found at the destroyed cottage. This one was a wren, its tiny form perfectly crafted but clearly artificial. The moment Harry's fingers touched it, the device activated.
"Well done, Harry," Lewis's voice said from the tiny speaker. "If you're hearing this, then you've followed my trail successfully. What you're looking for is three miles northeast of your current position. Look for the cottage."
The message finished, and the mechanical wren went quiet. Harry put the device in his pocket, his excitement growing as he walked out of the cave. He was getting closer to seeing Lewis again.
"Another clue?" Lynx asked.
"Not exactly," Harry replied, consulting his compass. "More like directions. Three miles northeast—that should take us down into the next valley."
They set off again, following sheep tracks that led down from the ruins into a wooded valley. The terrain grew more challenging as they descended, with streams to cross and steep slopes to navigate.
After an hour of careful hiking, they emerged from the woods into a pastoral valley. The cottage sat at the head of the valley. The building was old but well-maintained, with grey stone walls and a slate roof.
"That has to be it," Harry said.
They approached cautiously, with Lynx ranging ahead to scout for any signs of danger. The cottage appeared deserted, with no smoke from the chimney and no movement visible through the windows.
Harry knocked on the door, then tried the handle. It was unlocked, swinging open with a creak of old hinges. The interior was simple but comfortable—a main room with a fireplace, a small kitchen, and a bedroom visible through an open doorway.
Signs of Lewis's presence were everywhere. Books lay open on the table, some with handwritten notes in the margins. A half-finished meal sat on the kitchen counter, the bread now hard and the cheese beginning to mould. Most telling of all, a travelling cloak hung on a peg by the door, and Harry recognised it.
"He was definitely here," Harry said. "And recently, too. This food couldn't be more than a few days old."
"Something made him leave in a hurry," Lynx observed.
They went outside and began searching the area behind the cottage. The "shrine" turned out to be a small stone structure that had been incorporated into the cottage's garden. It was a little more than a pile of carefully arranged stones with a small opening in the centre.
They hiked deeper into the valley along a barely visible path. The terrain grew wilder as they progressed, with oak trees forming a canopy overhead. After twenty minutes of hiking, they found what they were looking for—a natural clearing surrounded by towering trees, with a small stream running through the centre. At the far end of the clearing, almost hidden by the shadows, stood another cottage. This one was much smaller and more primitive than the first, little more than a stone hut with a thatched roof.
But it was what they found behind the cottage that made Harry's blood run cold.
Lewis lay on a flat stone slab, his body perfectly still. His clothes were torn and bloodstained, and most shocking of all, a sword had been driven through his shoulder, pinning him to the stone. The weapon was unlike anything Harry had ever seen—the blade was black as midnight, seeming to absorb light rather than reflect it.
"Lewis!" Harry rushed forward.
He knelt beside the unconscious man, checking for signs of life. Lewis's breathing was shallow but steady, and his pulse was weak but present. His skin was pale and cold to the touch, and his eyes remained closed despite Harry's attempts to wake him.
"Lewis, can you hear me?" Harry said, shaking the man's shoulder gently. "It's Harry. I've come to help you."
But Lewis remained unresponsive.
"He's in a coma," Lynx said, examining Lewis more closely. "And I suspect that sword has something to do with it. The magic radiating from it is unpleasant."
Harry grasped the sword's hilt, trying to pull it free from Lewis's shoulder. The weapon felt unnaturally cold, and the moment his fingers touched the metal, waves of nausea washed over him. Despite putting all his strength into the effort, the sword wouldn't budge—it seemed to be anchored to the stone itself.
"Let me try," Lynx said, pushing Harry aside.
She wrapped her small hands around the hilt and pulled with surprising strength. Her face contorted with effort, and after a moment, she stepped back, shaking her head.
"It's not just stuck," she said. "It's magically bound to both Lewis and the stone. This isn't a normal weapon."
Harry ran several diagnostic spells on Lewis, using his Parseltongue magic. The results were disturbing—the sword was draining Lewis's life force, keeping him in a state of suspended animation that would eventually prove fatal.
"It's useless," Slyther's voice spoke within his mind. "This magic is beyond you. I suggest you take him with you and look for professionals with more knowledge."
Harry nodded, feeling frustrated and helpless. He had found Lewis at last, but the man was in no condition to provide the answers he desperately needed. Who had done this to him? How had they found him in such a remote location? And most importantly, what was the purpose of this black sword?
Harry shook his head, pushing aside his questions. The answers could wait—what mattered now was getting Lewis to safety and finding someone who could help him.
"We need to get him back to the ship," Harry said, using his wand to levitate the stone slab. "Maybe the artisan guild headquarters in Finland will have someone who knows something about this sword. There's also my appraisal scroll, but I doubt it will work if I can't remove the sword."
The trek back to the Thunderbird was arduous, with Harry levitating the stone slab the entire way. By the time they reached the aircraft, his magical reserves were running low.
Elizabeth immediately recognised the severity of the situation.
"What happened to him?" she asked, helping Harry get Lewis aboard.
"We don't know," Harry replied. "But we need to get him to Finland as quickly as possible."
As the Thunderbird lifted off, Harry looked down at Lewis's unconscious form and wondered if they were already too late.
So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Harry arrives at the castle and begins his knight training.
Thanks for reading.
