Book 1:
Prologue - Harry bitten
Chapter 1 - Arrival in 1200 B.C.
Chapter 2 - Brief Glimpses of Wizarding and Muggle Achievements
Chapter 3 - Arrival in 11 year old body, The Vanishing Glass
Chapter 4 - Hogwarts letter
Chapter 5 - Diagon Alley
Chapter 6 - Platform 9 3/4 & Hogwarts Express
Chapter 7 - Sorting - Slytherin
Chapter 8 - Charms
Chapter 9 - Transfiguration
Chapter 10 - Herbology
Chapter 11 - Defense Against the Dark Arts
Chapter 12 - Astronomy
Chapter 13 - Potions
Chapter 14 - Hagrid's Hut
Chapter 15 - Flying Lessons
Chapter 16 - Hallow e'en
Chapter 17 - Norbert
Chapter 18 - The Stone
Epilogue - Land for a New Home
Book 2:
Prologue - Home's Construction Begins
Chapter 1 -
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Chasing Life - The Amulet - Kaijos Prologue
A flash of lightning illuminates small figure in threadbared clothes approach a house with a patchy roof and a door that hung slightly off its top hinge. The figure reaches for the horseshoe-shaped handle to give him entry to the ramshackled house. Inside there was a large male, body worn and once muscled, leaning against a table littered with flagons mixed with vials, two candles lit upon a two-pronged lantern that hung low from the ceiling. The walls were scattered with the heads of various game, the heads forever holding the gaze of those who stood in the doorway. Two doors lead off the main room, both closed to the rest of the house. The man turned toward the boy, his face catching upon the light showing a scar running from left temple to nostril and several pocked scars, rage in his eyes and the waft of mead upon his breath. "Kaijos!" The man's voice coarse and rough, one used to yelling at every sleight, real or imagined. "Y-ye-yes, father?" Kaijos responded in a small, dim voice, one bereft of livilihood.
"You are late." Kaijos's father's voice turned soft, venomously promising. Thunder rumbles outside, the insides shaking, rattling vials to the floor. "Now look what you did, you whelp! Slammed the door too hard, you did!"
Kaijos bowed his head, his eyes on his father's feet, his breathing shaky. "S-sorry, s-sir."
"Sorry? That's all you ever are. A sorry excuse for an heir to a powerful family such as ours." He snorted, before taking a swig from a flagon. Suddenly, he turned to the table, picked up a smoking vial and flung at Kaijos's bowed head. Kaijos's head swung up as the hissing vial came closer, hitting him in the face. He screamed in anguish and pain as bubbles popped up where the liquid had hit. In pain, Kaijos turned and run through the door, barely able to see as his eyelids started to melt away.
Kaijos ran as fast as his legs would carry him away from his raging father, fear coursing through his veins like heat from a blacksmith's furnace. Kaijos ran passed the trees he knew so well, that he spent his free days climbing on, lounging in and practicing martial combat moves against, deep into the small forest that was camped in next to his father's house, and his father's before him.
After tripping for the fifth time, Kaijos stopped running, winded from sprinting such a long distance and fatigued from the emotional nosedive he had just experienced, the pain taking over his adrenaline and he lied there as the hissing and popping of the acidic potion wore off, leaving his face raw to the cold breeze of the north. Taking a rattling breath, he steadied himself against a large, brown tree, to catch his breath and gather himself, both emotionally and in terms of location. Quickly, Kaijos became worried, not recognizing any landmarks on the floor, nor able to see the stars for guidance, and he could not recall what he had been told about NAME Forest, his fatigue having drained his acumen.
Eventually, he decided to try to come back the way he came. He walked slowly in the direction in which he had thought had brought him from home, winding his way through the trees and shrubbery, until he heard a soft, distant call that seemed to be carried on the wind. The abruptness of the call caused his balance to waver, his feet crossing themselves as he stumbled clumsily before falling over his feet, landing face first into the snow; he screamed as the snow hit his acid-burned face, the perceived temperature difference antagonizing the nerves in his face.
Kaijos pushed himself up once more, he crawled away, toward a hum he had never heard before, a low, bassy sound that was filled with power unused, a power unlike any seen in northern Acctearos since the days of yore.
"Kaijos, Kaijos, come to me my child. Come." He hesitated at first, doubting anyone that was this deep in the forest would be particularly friendly, especially if they hadn't come to his assistance during the numerous times he had screamed, much less if they even knew his name. The voice called again and Kaijos felt himself heed the call, a pull from his right and slightly behind him grabbed and dragged him toward the voice's source. As he walked, he could hear the voice get louder, and he became giddy, giddy for reasons he couldn't explain, but he knew that the source of the voice would only bring him happiness, pleasure, power and revenge. After a mile jaunt through FOREST NAME, Kaijos came upon a depression in the ground and as he walked his way down toward the center of the depression, the voice seemed to get louder and louder, the beckoning becoming irrestible causing him to run. Kaijos could feel an energy pulsing from the center, whispering to him, sensually luring him to now purring voice, the power of the voice reverberating with echoes of power and, to him with its promise of power, so much so that he stumbled and rolled head-over-heels to the very center. Kaijos popped himself up after rolling down the decline into the center of the depression; quickly, he started to dig through the snow and into the soil, searching for the amulet. Finally, his hands brushed against metal, a metal that was too warm for being covered in ice, but he ignored the whisper of his sense and grabbed the metal and pulled. He yanked to find a thick, gold chain move out of the hole; another yank and an amulet was pulled free of the soil and snow, a glowing hematite circle with chrysocolla in the shape of a closed fist and jaspar lightning coming out from the knuckles in angry arches. The lightning lit up, and Kaijos gasped for breath, his knees weakened as his hands became slaves to the power of the amulet, causing him to bring the chain around his neck, hands working the clapse and, when the clapse locked, the light faded and Kaijos fell, once again to the ground, into unconsciousness.
Kaijos woke to biting cold and burning hands, hands with burns he couldn't remember getting. He looked around, trying to calm his racing heart so he could think, think and try to remember...remember to look down at his chest. There, there on his chest was the amulet and the memories came pouring back, of his father, his flight and failures, and finally the undenyable call that brought him to this little sinkhole and that amulet that had chains that burned his hands. Then he blinked, and the amulet lit before searing through his meager clothing and branding itself into his chest in a swift moment before it dulled into a faint glow once more. Finally, Kaijos stood shakily, as his body quickly became numb to the cold and to the pains he had just suffered. He looked down for
Hungrily, Kaijos pushed himself onto his knees, then his feet; a mad lust had filled him, a lust for power, the power of promised revenge. He began to run toward the source of power, for what seemed like hours in the bloodlust he ran, until he came to a clearing and, there, a hole in the ground. Kaijos walked over to the hole, his hands trembling and knees weak, and looking upon the hole, he saw an amulet with Kaijos gasped as the power of the amulet took control of his hands, forcing him to lift the amulet as it burned through his fair skin, and clasping it around his neck, when the light faded. Kaijos stood, gasping for breath, when suddenly the entire amulet lit and seared into his chest, fixing itself upon his sternum before it once again settled into a faint glow.
An interminable amount of time passed as Kaijos stood there at his glowing chest, cogniscizing what had happened, what it meant, and when he realized all of its implications, the lust began to glow in his eyes, faint jaspar lightning filling his eyes, and a faint wind began to flow around him as he walked back to his the house his father's father with long, purposeful strides.
In what seemed like no time at all, he got to the door, raised his open right hand and flicked it toward the door, and the door followed the path of his hand, out of its frame and sailed through the air before hitting a tree causing the door to shatter. In he walked through the opening to find his father slumped over the table, drooling and smelling of mead, something that was a recurring theme for his father. Kaijos moved over to him, and he picked his father up with one hand and slapped him across the cheek with the other.
His father woke with a start, looked around wildly before his eyes fell upon his son, and following years of habit, yelled, "boy!" before he gulped as he realized exactly what was happening, which caused his face to pale, his body to slacken and tremble and Kaijos smiled in satisfaction.
"Estropos, you good for nothing swine, " Kaijos licked his lips before continuing in a sing-song voice "I have come to pay my respects for you..."
"No! No! I treated you as any father should! You did noth-" Estropos was flung onto the table, up ending it, potions falling upon him and the ground, starting the table on fire, and igniting his father's clothes, and Kaijos smirked.
"Fool. I may have been lesser than I am now, but I always was your superior." Kaijos grinned as his father screamed from the heat of the fire, his clothes now ashes. "And now, now I am superior to all!" Kaijos cackled, his hair becoming a rich red as the power of the amulet filled him, fillled him with a power no child of nine should have. Slowly, Kaijos came back to the scene before him and noticed that his father no longer screamed and looked rather charred, and felt his bloodlust be sated, before he looked around in horror as his home burned all around him. Looking around wildly, he ran out the door, a name being whispered in his mind while the image of his father's bones were charred into his brain, "Goseiburi...Goseiburi..."
Monday, May 23, 2011
No Title - Chapter 2 - Harry Potter Fan Fiction
Harry knew that curiosity killed the cat, so he knew he shouldn't have been surprised when he arrived in front of the Leaky Cauldron.
'At least, ' Harry mused, 'it isn't raining.'
Looking around himself, Harry wished he looked different, just in case he was found by his relatives if they decided to go to that part of London. Instantly, his hair became a light brown, his eyes light blue and found himself to be three inches taller than he had been. 'Useful,' he observed to himself, after noticing the change in his perspective's view.
'At least, ' Harry mused, 'it isn't raining.'
Looking around himself, Harry wished he looked different, just in case he was found by his relatives if they decided to go to that part of London. Instantly, his hair became a light brown, his eyes light blue and found himself to be three inches taller than he had been. 'Useful,' he observed to himself, after noticing the change in his perspective's view.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
No Title - Chapter 1 - Harry Potter Fan Fiction
Harry Potter sat, crying on his small bed of holey blankets, crying from his last bloody punishment from his uncle, Vernon Dursley. His backside was covered in welts and cuts from Vernon's leather belt and that big, square gold-colored metal buckle. Idly, he figured it was now bloody gold-colored. Idly, he also wondered when his back stopped hurting and didn't feel like it was bleeding any longer, hoping his wishing hadn't fooled him from what was actually happening. Idly, idly...
He had been noticing that, whenever he wished for something hard enough and genuinely enough, it had a tendency to come true; unfortunately, it didn't always happen at the best of times, but then again, his wishing didn't tend to happen at the most ideal of moments. For instance, when he wasn't allowed more than a slice of bread, a slice of old cheese and half of a glass of water one night for dinner. He wished for lots of food, real food. He got it, right there, at the table, on the floor and on the counters. Pork roasts, beef roasts, various potato dishes, pizza and a wide range of other food items, with a large slice of strawberry cheesecake in his hands. Safe to say, his relatives were less than pleased. His aunt Petunia made him serve all of the food to his uncle and cousin Dudley, then clean everything when they were done. And Vernon, and Vernon...that was when the punishments got more severe than a smack on the head or a slap upside the head.
On the last family visit to London, when they were on Charring Cross Road, they passed by a shop his relatives didn't see, or at least pretended to not see, which piqued Harry's interests. He felt a burning desire to go there, a strong pull that he must go there, so he decided he shall, once he figured out how he could get away with it. Idly, he wondered if he could wish himself there...
He had been noticing that, whenever he wished for something hard enough and genuinely enough, it had a tendency to come true; unfortunately, it didn't always happen at the best of times, but then again, his wishing didn't tend to happen at the most ideal of moments. For instance, when he wasn't allowed more than a slice of bread, a slice of old cheese and half of a glass of water one night for dinner. He wished for lots of food, real food. He got it, right there, at the table, on the floor and on the counters. Pork roasts, beef roasts, various potato dishes, pizza and a wide range of other food items, with a large slice of strawberry cheesecake in his hands. Safe to say, his relatives were less than pleased. His aunt Petunia made him serve all of the food to his uncle and cousin Dudley, then clean everything when they were done. And Vernon, and Vernon...that was when the punishments got more severe than a smack on the head or a slap upside the head.
On the last family visit to London, when they were on Charring Cross Road, they passed by a shop his relatives didn't see, or at least pretended to not see, which piqued Harry's interests. He felt a burning desire to go there, a strong pull that he must go there, so he decided he shall, once he figured out how he could get away with it. Idly, he wondered if he could wish himself there...
Chronicles of Caecius - Entry 1 - My Advent
Advent of Caecius
Badar,
Birth, creation of life is usually a beautiful thing, done out of love, if not gain. My advent was no different in that regard - done out of the love of gaining - though it was completely different in mechanics...
Expanded history of Grafar and reasons for his quest of immortality, as well as his meeting of Stamanm and a brief summation of his brotherhood's formation. Twelve men who wore black-hooded robes and twelve women who wore skimpy tunics formed a circle, a circle that pulsated on both sides of them with powerfully magical runes. In the center stood Grafar, a tall, broad shouldered, middle-aged man wore a blood red with black trimmed robe and his unwilling mate, a gorgeous dragon turned dark elf, Staman. The twelve men knelt before their powerful leader, heads bowed in respect and fear, fear of his unholy wrath. The twelve women lied on their backs, unconscious, unknowing of their surroundings.
"My brothers," proclaimed Grafar, "you are about to participate in my most glorious moment - the moment I defeat death, the moment I achieve ageless immortality, so I can lead you and your children through the revolution of these corrupt governments and into the perfect world that I shall rule with you, my chosen, at my side." The twelve men cheered. "When I start chanting, the pure sacrifices shall being for the greater good of all in this world and will ever be in this world."
The men nodded, knowing their parts, eager to begin this pleasurefully glorious task.
"Shoo-noa tinn abul," began Grafar, the men began their soiling. "Fawlu-asu." The men finished at once, the wombs of the women glowed with the magically imbued seeds. "Thussu arju," and the lives created tore out of the women's wombs and passed seemlessly into the womb of Staman.
"Thuras-naja salart-abul" Grafar chanted as he lowers himself onto Staman. "Sinju! Sinju!" Grafar chanted as he finished.
Grafar stood before he pulled his robe back around his body. Swiftly, he reached down to pick up a faintly glowing, curved sickle. He cut Staman's stomach open before he slashed his left wrist and, holding the laceration above Staman's opened womb, his blood mixed with hers and the magically combined fetus. "Sheeno faenie rosku." The chant healed the wound on Staman and, before their eyes, Staman cycled through a pregnancy before giving birth to a fully formed baby with white skin, black hair and wing nubs on his back.
Grafar grabbbed the thin steel rod on the ground in front of him before he gently slid one end into his temple, the other end into the temple of the baby. "Lonos gnalis, Grafar chanli darhi Chronicles of Caecius." The rod glowed, a bright red pulse crept along from Grafar's temple to the baby's, which caused the baby to shriek in fright and pain. After the glowing subsided, Grafar began his final chant. "Chrakas-shrone criftna, chinsho-riplos!" and Chronicles of Caecius's body grew through the stages of life: infant, toddler, childhood, adolesence, and ended with his body matured to that of one in his mid-twenties. The twelve men gasped as one as the now-man stood, his hair now holding bright, light blue streak down the middle, his body towering over them, his wings a dark red hue spanning 15 feet in each direction and opened his slanted, onyx eyes.
"Awaken, my child, Caecius!" Grafar demanded. Caecius snarled at him, his eyes narrowed, brow furrowed, which caused Grafar to pause and swallow minutely, before he continued. "Bow before me, Caecius!" Caecius cocked his head to the side, sneered at Grafar, then proclaimed in a slow, deep melodic voice, "No Grafar, but your spirit, after your imminent death, shall bow to me for all of eternity."
Caecius opened his hand and a crackling blue ball flew at Grafar, hitting him and instantly charred his body. Caecius turned and sneered at the twelve other men as they fired spell after spell at him, in an attempt to avenge their fallen leader, their life's master. Caecius clapped his hands and the men imploded. Slowly, Caecius wandered out of the cave, wearied by his welcome into this world, but still hungry for vengence on his father's followers and a thirst of primal vengence to be quenched.
My early thirst for revenge shook the foundations of the Pendroin, causing them to flee their magical homeland in the south to the far reaches of the north and banning all of the magic that they possessed from use, magic that had created me, causing them to be brutal and barbaric in their takings at their new home, their sheltered bodies weary from previously unneeded efforts due to their magical prowess. I ran to where I may find peace from their cruelty.
Caecius
Badar,
Birth, creation of life is usually a beautiful thing, done out of love, if not gain. My advent was no different in that regard - done out of the love of gaining - though it was completely different in mechanics...
Expanded history of Grafar and reasons for his quest of immortality, as well as his meeting of Stamanm and a brief summation of his brotherhood's formation. Twelve men who wore black-hooded robes and twelve women who wore skimpy tunics formed a circle, a circle that pulsated on both sides of them with powerfully magical runes. In the center stood Grafar, a tall, broad shouldered, middle-aged man wore a blood red with black trimmed robe and his unwilling mate, a gorgeous dragon turned dark elf, Staman. The twelve men knelt before their powerful leader, heads bowed in respect and fear, fear of his unholy wrath. The twelve women lied on their backs, unconscious, unknowing of their surroundings.
"My brothers," proclaimed Grafar, "you are about to participate in my most glorious moment - the moment I defeat death, the moment I achieve ageless immortality, so I can lead you and your children through the revolution of these corrupt governments and into the perfect world that I shall rule with you, my chosen, at my side." The twelve men cheered. "When I start chanting, the pure sacrifices shall being for the greater good of all in this world and will ever be in this world."
The men nodded, knowing their parts, eager to begin this pleasurefully glorious task.
"Shoo-noa tinn abul," began Grafar, the men began their soiling. "Fawlu-asu." The men finished at once, the wombs of the women glowed with the magically imbued seeds. "Thussu arju," and the lives created tore out of the women's wombs and passed seemlessly into the womb of Staman.
"Thuras-naja salart-abul" Grafar chanted as he lowers himself onto Staman. "Sinju! Sinju!" Grafar chanted as he finished.
Grafar stood before he pulled his robe back around his body. Swiftly, he reached down to pick up a faintly glowing, curved sickle. He cut Staman's stomach open before he slashed his left wrist and, holding the laceration above Staman's opened womb, his blood mixed with hers and the magically combined fetus. "Sheeno faenie rosku." The chant healed the wound on Staman and, before their eyes, Staman cycled through a pregnancy before giving birth to a fully formed baby with white skin, black hair and wing nubs on his back.
Grafar grabbbed the thin steel rod on the ground in front of him before he gently slid one end into his temple, the other end into the temple of the baby. "Lonos gnalis, Grafar chanli darhi Chronicles of Caecius." The rod glowed, a bright red pulse crept along from Grafar's temple to the baby's, which caused the baby to shriek in fright and pain. After the glowing subsided, Grafar began his final chant. "Chrakas-shrone criftna, chinsho-riplos!" and Chronicles of Caecius's body grew through the stages of life: infant, toddler, childhood, adolesence, and ended with his body matured to that of one in his mid-twenties. The twelve men gasped as one as the now-man stood, his hair now holding bright, light blue streak down the middle, his body towering over them, his wings a dark red hue spanning 15 feet in each direction and opened his slanted, onyx eyes.
"Awaken, my child, Caecius!" Grafar demanded. Caecius snarled at him, his eyes narrowed, brow furrowed, which caused Grafar to pause and swallow minutely, before he continued. "Bow before me, Caecius!" Caecius cocked his head to the side, sneered at Grafar, then proclaimed in a slow, deep melodic voice, "No Grafar, but your spirit, after your imminent death, shall bow to me for all of eternity."
Caecius opened his hand and a crackling blue ball flew at Grafar, hitting him and instantly charred his body. Caecius turned and sneered at the twelve other men as they fired spell after spell at him, in an attempt to avenge their fallen leader, their life's master. Caecius clapped his hands and the men imploded. Slowly, Caecius wandered out of the cave, wearied by his welcome into this world, but still hungry for vengence on his father's followers and a thirst of primal vengence to be quenched.
My early thirst for revenge shook the foundations of the Pendroin, causing them to flee their magical homeland in the south to the far reaches of the north and banning all of the magic that they possessed from use, magic that had created me, causing them to be brutal and barbaric in their takings at their new home, their sheltered bodies weary from previously unneeded efforts due to their magical prowess. I ran to where I may find peace from their cruelty.
Caecius
Repressing Mortality - The Escape - Zunorv Prologue
They looked upon the lone figure standing in the center of scorched fields, his eyes glowing with an ultrviolet radiance of power, power no mortal should possess, as that was how they had designed this world. The power the figure radiated suffocated them with its pressure, slowly weakening them, killing them. They upon the Darjonn, the entity that had attempted to strike the figure down, an act done after their confab to discuss his power, his danger to their immortal health.
Chasing Life - Magical Urchin - Kaijos Chapter 1
Kaijos sat, huddled in with himself, on a small stool under the stone overhang of an old weapon smith's shop, hidden from the biting night wind, nursing a bleeding scalp and feet, his clothes torn.
"Those Pendroin, those things out there, " he muttered to himself, "they will pay, they will bow underneath my power, the power of my revenge." A spark lit his eyes, a small flame that began to burn a nearby rock, a rock that burned in sync with his ignited temper, a temper that is drenched in the oil of his painful memories.
Kaijos, shortly after fleeing his family's home, was exceedingly hungry, the amulet sucking strength from his fragile form to charge its power, a power that had been dormant and bleeding energy in the hope that someone would be able to sense it enough to find it after 500 years.
"Those Pendroin, those things out there, " he muttered to himself, "they will pay, they will bow underneath my power, the power of my revenge." A spark lit his eyes, a small flame that began to burn a nearby rock, a rock that burned in sync with his ignited temper, a temper that is drenched in the oil of his painful memories.
Kaijos, shortly after fleeing his family's home, was exceedingly hungry, the amulet sucking strength from his fragile form to charge its power, a power that had been dormant and bleeding energy in the hope that someone would be able to sense it enough to find it after 500 years.
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