Fan Fiction ❯ The Weaver Telarius ❯ Violence, Vows, and Valor ( Chapter 18 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Sir Telarius 
This took a while. I won't apologize for it, though. I'm stubborn like that. Yeah, that's it.
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Psychological / / Fantasy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.27.2003 | Pages: 3 | Words: 6.0K | Visits: 144 | Status: Work In Progress
This took a while. I won't apologize for it, though. I'm stubborn like that. Yeah, that's it.
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Psychological / / Fantasy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.27.2003 | Pages: 3 | Words: 6.0K | Visits: 144 | Status: Work In Progress
I discovered quickly that I could not apparate to Phillip's location. I assumed then that Riddle's forces had constructed a sort of anti-apparation barrier much like the one Hogwarts uses. Still, I knew geographically where he was. I attempted apparatation farther and farther away. Finally, after a period of around five minutes, I apparated twenty miles away from the naval base.
I needed a quick mode of transportation. Something that I could get around traffic with as well. Realizing this, I cast a spell I had woven to establish contact with Deanne. "Deanne! Do you read me?"
"Yes, what's your status?"
"Twenty miles away from the base. Ask Cordelia to make psychic contact with Hagrid. Tell him to name his motorcycle. Then give me the name."
"Understood. Standby."
I am certain that only a few minutes passed, but it seemed far longer before I heard from Deanne again. "He's named it Samantha."
"Thank you."
I broke contact, then removed my wand from my robes. "Accio Samantha."
Thankfully Xorlempt was in tune enough to my thoughts to know what I meant. The motorcycle was before me and I got on it and rode like the wind. Of course, as a wove in and out of traffic attempting to get used to two wheels at high velocities (I had never actually ridden a motorcycle before), I picked up one or two police cars. Pulling over to receive a ticket was the last thing I needed, so I ignored them. I imagine I had put quite a strain on the engine of that bike during my ride.
It occured to me as the naval base came into view that I had no handy way of getting through their security. Their gate was closed, and the guards at the gate armed. The closer I got, the closer their hands got to their sidearms. Of course, I was noticing this from quite a distance, since Dumbledore's glasses graced my eyes with enhanced vision.
I did the only thing I could think of at the time. I sped up. This stunt would be difficult to pull off at a low speed, let alone the velocity I was travelling at. Still, I had to try. When the gate was roughly thirty feet away, I laid the bike down by taking my left leg over to the right side and standing of the right side of the seat with both legs. At the last possible moment, when my balance was failing, I leapt from the bike, rolled, and scrambled away from the gate.
The explosion was tremendous. I cast a flame retardant spell on my clothing and ran as fast as I could toward the gate. The police had reached the scene and where exiting their vehicles and drawing their weapons. In all of my weavings, I had never found a way to craft a spell that would protect myself from bullets. I hadn't the time to disarm each of their firearms either. The distance between myself and the gate was now around fifty feet. And so I ran.
Bullets hailed around me. Forty feet. I felt one just narrowly miss the back of my neck, and another struck just in front of my left foot. Thirty feet. I summoned my rapier as more police arrived and joined in the firing. I began to twirl my rapier as fast as my weakened right arm could, hoping that I might be able to deflect a bullet or two. Twenty feet. A bullet hit the flat of my rapier and broke the blade, such that only three quarters of its former length remained. Ten feet. I was almost there. Almost there...
Pain. Searing, white hot, agonizing pain. My right calf had a disagreement with a bullet and sorely lost. It entered about three inches above my ankle and exited just above my achillies tendon. I could actually feel the muscles in my leg getting burned and ripped away by the force of the lead round. I hobbled on. I had to continue. Had to get through the fire. Sanctuary was through the fire.
Another bullet grazed the back of my right shoulder. I was growing tired and dizzy from the pain. Just a few more steps.
By some miracle I made it through the gate. I pointed my wand to it and cast a warding spell which enhanced the potency of the flames and provented anything physical from passing through it. I wished at that moment that I could have somehow cast a mobile version of that ward, but it seemed to be beyond my power to cast such a spell.
I staggered toward the main compound, where I hoped I would find Phillip. As I opened the door, I was quite put out to find two navy guards armed with sabers. Raised my rapier point in their direction, but I no longer had the advantage of distance on them. Add to that the fact that I was in a weakened state from my resting period after the Veritas Enigmatus, and that I had a bullet wound in my right leg, and you come up with a dangerous situation. They were close to my equals in skill with a blade, if not better because of my wound.
I stepped forward into a traditional en guarde stance. They recognized the stance and slipped into it themselves. These were fencers, or at least had some fencing in their lives. This would not be easy. I made an advance and winced. I believe it was then that they noticed my wound. The one on the right pressed the attack at that moment.
It was a beautiful cut to my head. I parried in high quint and proceeded to expel his blade. I did not expect to disarm him with this action, so I had not planned on pressing the attack afterward. Before I had time to take advantage of the situation, the second engaged my blade. He attempted a feint to my side, but I saw that his real target was my wrist and parried prieme. Once again, I expelled. Once again, a disarmament. I couldn't help but grin. I had a weapon to use against them. Though they wouldn't allow themselves to be disarmed again, this revealed that they could not perform a contracting parry. This meant that my expulsions could buy me the time I needed, provided...
They began some manuvering around me. I attempted to cut them off, but the threat of their edges kept me at bay long enough for them to have me flanked.
One in front and one in back. The scenario seemed incredibly familiar to me. I saw the glazed look in their eyes... the same look that they had in my dream. They were under the imperious curse. They did not have the consciousness to care about their lives.
A beat quarte, feint, thrust and lunge were the movements that I remembered. I merely parried the attack, making no effort to riposte, but keeping opposition until I felt the intent of a cut towards my back. I pulled into septiema for the parry and reoriented for a slow overhead cut. Of course it would have done nothing, for, much to my dismay, my weapon had only a point, but the bluff was called. I used the force of my cut to expell the blade now at my front, then continued the momentum toward my rear, pulling into tierce on the other side just in time to catch the cut to my midsection.
From tierce, I feinted with a thrust, and the feint was successful. A simple doublé and I had the opening. I did not take it, but waited for the response to the open line on my part. The simultaneous attack was difficult to parry on instinct, but I found that, by pulling into octave while lunging forward, I had time before the redoublemont to turn about and parry septiem.
And then I remembered. I remembered exactly how the dream had gone, and how it ended. I was following the movements of the dream to the letter. I was never one to believe in fate, but this shocked me. I knew what was coming. I knew. I couldn't think of a way to stop it. I just couldn't. I returned to tierce in a neutral guard. If I knew what he was going to do, why didn't I try something different? I was acting out of my instincts, just as I had in my dream. That's how you are supposed to fight. You're supposed to fight with your instinctive persona... your Id, as the psychologists call it. My Id was going to get me killed, though. He ran onto my blade. This was it. This was my time.
Like I said, I do not believe in fate. I remember hearing a saying once: "If you're falling off of a cliff, you might as well try to fly. You've got nothing to lose." And so I attempted something I had never done before in a combat situation. I propelled myself into a state of hyper-cognition.
Instantly my mental awareness increased. I was able to calculate the exact distances all around me, and the exact time it would take me to make any movement, or my opponents to do the same, all within a fraction of a second. I had perfect timing and perfect distance. According to the French philosophy of fencing, that meant I couldn't possibly be harmed. I calculated the action sequence with an absolute probability of success and then performed it.
My muscles reacted out of the dire necessity to the situation, which my mind had factored into the equation. I stepped forward, pushing my sword deeper into the opponent who had ran on it. I got as close as I possibly could get to him. I heard a movement behind me. The other opponent was lunging. I ducked down and under the arm of the slain opponent, relinquishing control of my rapier, and moved his sword arm such that the saber still in his hand parried the cut. I then pushed along the shoulder of the soon to be dead combatant with my left hand while my right went the other way along his arm, grabbing his saber. Mr. Suicide's body fell onto the blade of the other, and I was free to make my attack without parry. I gave him a clean cut across the neck, severing the artery which flows blood to the brain.
I stumbled along toward the room I knew the submarines to be within, cutting down once with my newly-acquired saber to shed some of the blood. I would wish for peace for the dead another day, when all of this was over. My mind had returned to the normal mode of thought. My head hurt, even from those few moments of hyper-cognition. I realized then that the amount of variables present in a combat situation was so massive that it took a lot more thought to calculate them. This meant that, while I could use my hyper-cognition to enhance my combat ability, it took a great toll on my mind. Too great a toll, even for those brief few moments when I needed it.
I opened the door before me and breathed a sigh of relief. Phillip was standing with his back to me, one of the sabers at his side in his right hand, pointing down. Around him were several of the naval guards. "Phillip! You're okay!"
He turned around and smiled at me. He looked like he had been through seven different kinds of hell, but he wasn't afflicted with anything greater than a flesh wound. "Yeah, I'm okay. I've never been in combat like that. You should have trained us for grand melee."
"I'm afraid it's not part of the traditional fencing pedigogy."
"Well, then perhaps it should be."
I laughed a bit and hobbled in his direction. We walked toward me at an even pace. "We don't have much time to waste. Riddle will most likely attack Hogwarts any moment, if he's not already begun his attack. The police are outside waiting for me at the road, so we can't take that path... if you have any idea how to disable the barrier vs. apparation..."
I barely had time to parry the cut. Doing so caused me to lose balance and fall to my right. I rolled, painfully, and got back to my feet and en guarde in time to parry a neck cut. "Phillip, what are you doing?!"
His response was three more cuts in rapid succession. They were beautiful cuts. I parried each in turn, but could not take time to repost. His cuts were too strong. Too forceful. It took too much out of my weakened muscles just to make the parries. I staggered backward, realizing then that he must be under the imperious curse. It made tactical sense. Make certain that I knew Phillip was in danger through the most psychically sensitive member of our little group (also the one who was good with divination), and then have Phillip go after me. Two birds, one stone.
I parried seconde to a cut to my wounded leg and received a cut on my left cheek for my troubles. I retreated twice, but he kept pace with me and made another cut by lunge to my chest. I parried tierce, but his cut had more strength on it then the previous ones, and he caught my chest with some of the cut. It was not a large gash, but it was enough with my other injuries to cause me to worry about blood loss. I was starting to grow more than just faint.
I made a quick cut at his wrist, but his parry was immaculate. He expelled me from that position with such force that my saber left my hand and travelled three feet to my right. I dropped down, hoping to sweep him before he could make a cut... and encountered his right foot.
He chuckled as I lay on my back, cringing in pain. "Too weak. Too predictable," were his only words as he stood over me, saber moving to decapitate me.
Liking the general, standing relationship between my head and my body, and not wanting to jeopardize that in any way, I risked another dive into hyper-cognition. I then cought his legs in mine as if they were scissors and brought him to meet me on the floor. I scrambled toward my saber and had it in plenty of time before his attack. Instead of parrying, I dodged within inches of the cut, then cut his right arm. The cut was perfectly timed and aimed, scoring on the section sometimes referred to by fencers as the sinae (a point on the forearm incredibly close to the section between forearm and biscep, on the other side of the arm from the elbow).
His right arm now incapacitated, it was a simple matter to make a cut faster than he could parry across his chest. The cut was perfectly lethal. My battle now being over, I disengaged my hyper-cognitive mind... and despaired.
I hadn't realized. I did not even remember how it was with the two from before. No consideration of my relation or want to slay the opponents entered my mind in that state. It was logical to a fault. The opponent that is dead is the opponent that threatens you the least. It was the second mistake I had made which had cost Phillip dearly.
"Phillip! I...I," I knelt by him as he lie upon the floor, bleeding profusely.
He looked to me, sadness in his eyes. Whoever had placed him under the imperious curse had let him be. It was a win/win situation for that person. "It's okay, Telarius. It's okay. You didn't have a choice," he was forgiving me for something which I could not be forgiven.
"Don't talk. I'm going to get you to a hospital," I insisted, in blatant denial of the inevitable truth.
"No... you have more important things to do, Telarius. Riddle got out of here with twelve modified submarines. The attack was going to commence as soon as your abscence from the castle was reported..." he coughed up a gout of blood.
I closed my eyes. "Phillip... I'm so sorry."
"It was not you who killed me, Telarius. Not really. It was he who placed me under the curse. There is a reason it is unforgiveable. Avenge my death, Telarius. Do not permit Riddle to exist in any state save damned for eternity."
I opened my eyes and met his gaze. I was moved to tears. He had already accepted his death. He had always wanted to best me with a blade, and he never got the chance. I killed him when he had his greatest shot at it. So many things I had denied him which would have made him happy, and all because I thought it was better for him. Who was I to dictate what was better or worse for him? Who was I to deny him what I knew he wanted because I thought I knew better? He had never charged me with this task. I had assumed it. My crime of arrogance, but with the best intentions. Still, regardless of intention, arrogance is arrogance. I should have let him choose his own path, and helped him see it through. Let him discover things with his own eyes rather than attempt to tunnel his vision to avoid the uncomfortable revelations.
And now it was too late. He had one request of me now. Honouring it would not serve even close to my penance for my crimes against him, but I would see it done all the same.
"I swear to you, Phillip," I assumed a tone of command and determination, "Before the sun sets once more I shall destroy Tom Marvolo Riddle to such an extent as has never been done. He shall never exist in any incarnation. This I swear to you. I will honour your last request."
He smiled at me, and clasped my hand. The tears from my eyes clouded my vision. I felt his hand go limp, saw the light go out of his eyes, and the colour from his skin. With Dumbledore's glasses on, I could swear that I saw his spirit rising up out of his body, then being bound in chains of darkness. It could have been a combination of the steam from a nearby vent and my tearsoaked eyes, and it is nice to consider these things in such moments, for that image could not possibly have been a good one.
The anti-apparation barrier was down. It must have been Phillip under the imperious curse who casted it. I wiped tears from my eyes and dispelled the ward I had created. The police would enter and give the dead proper burials, though I wished that I could have tended to Phillip's personally. There wasn't the time. I had one spell to weave, and then an apparation to Hogwarts. Of course, there was only one way I was getting there.
* * *
~Are you certain?~
~Yes,~ I replied, ~Give the order to Meriam as quickly as you can. Just disable it briefly, else all of our efforts might be in vein.~
~Understood. Cordelia out. I'll contact you as soon as the barrier is down.~
The waiting was agonizing. She had given me reports from the frontlines at the speed of thought. The attack had commenced ten minutes ago, placing it around the time I ditched Hagrid's motorcycle. Riddle had come up with a few more bright ideas than I had anticipated. He kept some submarines under while others began the bombardment. As soon as one was sunk by our bombers, another would come up and take it's place. Our bombers had managed to take out three submarines thus far out of the twelve (a number I relayed to her while she gave me the report). Riddle had also enlisted a group of five dragons to provide an aerial attack. So far they had taken out two of our bombers, and none of the dragons had fallen. These numbers were distressing. Three out of twelve and zero out of five versus two out of seven. Any way you sliced it, we were losing the battle in both air and sea, and I had no backup plan. For all my tactical planning, I had not anticipated a worst case scenario. I did not want to consider the possibility that Phillip would not have been able to help us.
I struck those thoughts from my mind as soon as they came up. I could not continue to mourn his passing or I would doubtless make another critical error. There was some good news. Our Crinos units were holding the first of three lines of defense (being the Dark Forest, the lake pass, and the castle gates respectively). Forces emerge from the forest and perhaps make it eight meters away before they engage one or two of our units. We were winning the land war, and we hadn't had to pull out the Order yet.
My body's energies were lingering. By now, I had lost an awful lot of blood. Too much. I should have passed out several minutes ago, but I was determined to see this thing through conscious. Too many times in this year had I passed out after injury or strain and had to learn later what happened that I could not help. I suppose I developed a certain rebellious mode in such situations which helped keep myself in the realm of the waking.
~Telarius?~ Cordelia finally came through again.
~Yes?~
~You've got twenty seconds.~
~Understood.~
With that I gathered myself and apparated to the Hogwarts hospital wing. I was releaved to see that Madam Pomfrey was so far burdened with few wounded. I gave her a weak smile, and she gave me a look of horror. "My goodness dear! What has happened to you?!" she sounded as if she expected me to keel over at any second. It was an endearing quality in healers... overreacting.
"Many unpleasant things, all of which would take too much time that we do not have to discuss. Heal my wounds, that I might come onto the battlefield without hinderance of pain," I instructed her.
She took care of everything, including the blood loss. On my advisement, she had been preparing for a day like this for several weeks. As she was finishing the replenishment of my blood supply, I asked her: "Are these all the wounded you have received thus far?"
She nodded silently, which I did not take to be a good thing. A person in her position is usually much happier for having less wounded. I could only assume that her lack of vocal response indicated a large amount of incurable casualties.
* * *
Most of the time people want to be right about their assumptions. I didn't in this instance. I was, though. The field was a bloody mess, and I don't mean that adjective to be an explitive. As I stepped out into the open I saw several young wizards and witches in various states of dismemberment. There were a few of the Crinos dead as well, and also some giants. It seemed as though Riddle's main ground force was made up almost entirely of giants backed by wizards. I counted the number of giants remaining and the number dead versus the number of Crinos remaining and the number of them dead. On average, two Crinos could take out a giant while only losing one. At a one to one kill ratio, the ground battle was going to be close.
I spotted Deanne, who was shouting orders to the Crinos generals. It seemed as though she had the battle under control for now, but she looked frantic. I ran to her. "Deanne!" I shouted over the roar of combat.
Her head turned and she smiled. I saw that she had taken some collateral damage on her left side. A few scratches, but nothing serious. I was concerned about her, but asking her how she was would waste valuable time. "Report," I said, a little too coldly for one who was speaking to his love.
"We are still holding the first line of defense on the ground. Most of our bombers have been taken out by the dragons. Only three remain, and I've commanded them through Cordelia to focus entirely on evasive manuvers until Bill Weasley's dragons arrive to occupy Riddle's. She's been a great asset to us in this battle in relaying commands, just as you said she would. So far, we've been able to keep our heavy hitters safe and out of the way in case the situation worsens beyond our current capacity for handling."
At that point, there was the deafening sound of a nearby explosion coming from the lakeside wall. I turned to see a large piece of the outer wall missing, with rubble being tossed this way and that. "Those aren't starbursts," I commented.
"No, they're not. Phillip did not get to perform his task, I take it."
I did not respond. Instead, I turned my attention to the sky. The dragons were attempting to pin one of the bombers and force it to take a hit. It wouldn't take more than one good swipe of claw or wing to drop our air power down to two. I prayed that the swipe wouldn't come. This prayer turned out like all my others.
One of the dragons got its jaws around a bomber. I heard a cracking sound as the powerful teeth of a fully grown Norwegian Ridgeback tore through the steel plating surrouding the craft. I saw a trail of red leak out from the cockpit. I winced.
"Who was piloting that one?" I asked.
"Draco," Deanne responded.
My head sank for a moment. It was all the mourning I was afforded. I heard cries of pain in the voice of Crinos. I looked up to see several on fire. Of course. They only needed to pin two, so one dragon was free to start taking out our ground units.
"Cordelia!" I shouted.
~Done,~ her voice came into my mind.
~Options,~ I was addressing Deanne and Cordelia at the moment. Conversations at the speed of thought could go by quickly as long as everyone was focused on them. It was quicker than talking, at any rate.
~Do we have anything powerful enough to take out a dragon?~ Cordelia asked.
~Yes,~ Deanne responded, ~Telarius wove it a while ago, applying it exclusively for my use.~
~Unforuntately, it's the magical equivalent of a small fusion bomb. It would take out the dragon as well as all of our ground forces. The explosion would most likely reach us as well. We would have to fall back into our second position to be well away from the blast radius.~
~The forest has been scouted. Riddle has no other ground forces,~ Deanne informed me.
~Still, we would be destroying some of the Crinos. Even if they're constructs, I'm all for keeping them alive,~ Cordelia commented.
~Then what would you recommend?~ I asked.
~We leave our ground forces at the first line and fall back to the second, as a precaution in case my plan doesn't work,~ was her response.
~And what is your plan?~ I was genuinely curious.
~I'm going to attempt to control one of the Death Eater's minds,~ she said, simply.
I paused at that moment. ~You told me that you lacked the capacity for such a feat.~
~Yeah, I do.~
Another pause. ~What is the worst that can happen from you attempting this?~
~The majority of my nervous system could be paralyzed due to me overextending myself. I could also suffer from spontaneous bleeding, heart failure, and I could potentially develop a brain tumor.~
It sounded like the side effects to an allergy medication. ~Do it. Go after Malfoy. I think telling him of his son's death, while a low thing to do, will distract him enough for you to get in,~ I really did not see a better option available.
We fell back to the second line of defense as quickly as our strides could take us. Every once in a while, there was another deafening sound from the lake, accompanied occassionally by a shaking of the land beneath our feet. The light that came just before the sound and feeling seemed more of an afterthought. When we were in position, I gave Cordelia the go ahead.
Her gaze seemed locked at a point too far for her eyes to see. Those very orbs glazed over with a sort of opaque substance briefly. She was in telepathic communication with a person hostile to the contact, so this was expected. Her pupils then dialated rapidly. She was in psychic combat. I could go into a lecture about the nature of psychic combat, but I'd rather none of you had such information.
Several more Crinos units fell to the fires of the dragon. Blood was beginning to flow from Cordelia's tearducts. I was about to tell her to break contact when it happened. A single ray of green light connecting two points. The point of origin allowed me to know exactly where the Death Eaters were stationed. The light ended high in the sky, its result more pronounced than any cannon fire from the submarines. The dragon fell.
I looked to Cordelia, who looked quite put out, but relieved at the same time. "Are you alright?" I asked in a rare moment of compassion on the battlefield. She was in this condition because of me after all.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I think I gave him brain damage though," she replied.
"Pity. He deserved so much worse," I said, turning my attention once more to the battle at hand.
The dragon's assault had turned the tide of the ground battle in Riddle's favour. Our dragons arrived and occupied his, so our remaining two bombers were free to start neutralizing Riddle's sea power. That left one front taken care of. The dragons would fight to a stalemate, and the payload of the remaining bombers was too little to afford wasting them on the ground battle, given that Riddle was keeping submarines under to take the place of those destroyed. I wondered for a moment how he was preventing the sinking subs from hitting the submerged ones beneath him. Just a moment, though, as I realized he probably just had them set to disintegrate in such an instance. Such was the mentality of a ruthless killer.
So that left the ground battle up to our ground forces. His giants now would overcome the Crinos with enough left to make me balk. All it would take was time. Riddle only had so much time with which to prepare his spell, and he would have to move in quickly in order to secure an enemy to forcefully remove blood from. I did a quick calculation, while not quite hyper-cognitive, and determined that he could be advancing on our position with time to spare. Any way you sliced it, the Crinos were buying it.
So I decided to level the playing field. "Deanne?" I said.
"Yes Telarius?"
"Nuke them."
Cordelia looked as though she were about to speak, but Deanne beat her to the punch. "But the Crinos..."
"...are going to die anyway," I interrupted, "And this way, we'll be able to advance on the Death Eaters and end this conflict before Riddle obtains physical form once more."
"But --"
"It's an order, Deanne. I hate it as much as you do. Now nuke them."
Deanne brought out her wand with a grimace. Cordelia gave her a look as if to object, then silenced it. Meriam and Cordelia both hated to think of the Crinos as expendable, as they had talked with many of them as if they were comrades. She pointed it toward the center of the melee battle and focused.
"How long does it take her?" Cordelia asked.
"Twenty seconds to prepare, ten minutes to be ready for another," I replied.
"A lot can happen in ten minutes," she commented.
"I know."
"Infernus Obliviate," Deanne's pronounciation was without fault, and her voice had an echo attributed to all spells of such a high level of power.
A single spark shot out from her wand and impacted with the ground. At first nothing. A flash of bright white light followed the nothingness, along with a sudden complete silence... the kind of silence that could scare the unfrightenable. The heat followed as we could see the crater begin to form and the large orb ascend in the sky, connected to the ground through a single trunk. It formed an image not unlike a tree in shape.
When it was done the place where melee was once the going medium now favoured ash. The playing field was leveled. I could see now Riddle's Death Eaters assembled across the crater. I could swear I saw one of them smirk. I remembered wondering why, as we clearly had the advantage.
A rumbling. Not from the impact of a submarine cannon shell or of a spell. A subterrainian rumbling. It was all the warning we got. Vehicles with large drills on the front emerged from beneath the crater. When they were clear of the dirt, each vehicle dispatched roughly fifteen dementors and twenty five men armed with both wand and sword. From the first vehicle also emerged Vincent, who locked gazes with me. I saw. It was Riddle. His spirit was embodying Vincent's form until the ritual was complete. I counted ten vehicles, which made for a standing army of four hundred.
For the record, we had, at most, twenty able-bodied combatants.
I needed a quick mode of transportation. Something that I could get around traffic with as well. Realizing this, I cast a spell I had woven to establish contact with Deanne. "Deanne! Do you read me?"
"Yes, what's your status?"
"Twenty miles away from the base. Ask Cordelia to make psychic contact with Hagrid. Tell him to name his motorcycle. Then give me the name."
"Understood. Standby."
I am certain that only a few minutes passed, but it seemed far longer before I heard from Deanne again. "He's named it Samantha."
"Thank you."
I broke contact, then removed my wand from my robes. "Accio Samantha."
Thankfully Xorlempt was in tune enough to my thoughts to know what I meant. The motorcycle was before me and I got on it and rode like the wind. Of course, as a wove in and out of traffic attempting to get used to two wheels at high velocities (I had never actually ridden a motorcycle before), I picked up one or two police cars. Pulling over to receive a ticket was the last thing I needed, so I ignored them. I imagine I had put quite a strain on the engine of that bike during my ride.
It occured to me as the naval base came into view that I had no handy way of getting through their security. Their gate was closed, and the guards at the gate armed. The closer I got, the closer their hands got to their sidearms. Of course, I was noticing this from quite a distance, since Dumbledore's glasses graced my eyes with enhanced vision.
I did the only thing I could think of at the time. I sped up. This stunt would be difficult to pull off at a low speed, let alone the velocity I was travelling at. Still, I had to try. When the gate was roughly thirty feet away, I laid the bike down by taking my left leg over to the right side and standing of the right side of the seat with both legs. At the last possible moment, when my balance was failing, I leapt from the bike, rolled, and scrambled away from the gate.
The explosion was tremendous. I cast a flame retardant spell on my clothing and ran as fast as I could toward the gate. The police had reached the scene and where exiting their vehicles and drawing their weapons. In all of my weavings, I had never found a way to craft a spell that would protect myself from bullets. I hadn't the time to disarm each of their firearms either. The distance between myself and the gate was now around fifty feet. And so I ran.
Bullets hailed around me. Forty feet. I felt one just narrowly miss the back of my neck, and another struck just in front of my left foot. Thirty feet. I summoned my rapier as more police arrived and joined in the firing. I began to twirl my rapier as fast as my weakened right arm could, hoping that I might be able to deflect a bullet or two. Twenty feet. A bullet hit the flat of my rapier and broke the blade, such that only three quarters of its former length remained. Ten feet. I was almost there. Almost there...
Pain. Searing, white hot, agonizing pain. My right calf had a disagreement with a bullet and sorely lost. It entered about three inches above my ankle and exited just above my achillies tendon. I could actually feel the muscles in my leg getting burned and ripped away by the force of the lead round. I hobbled on. I had to continue. Had to get through the fire. Sanctuary was through the fire.
Another bullet grazed the back of my right shoulder. I was growing tired and dizzy from the pain. Just a few more steps.
By some miracle I made it through the gate. I pointed my wand to it and cast a warding spell which enhanced the potency of the flames and provented anything physical from passing through it. I wished at that moment that I could have somehow cast a mobile version of that ward, but it seemed to be beyond my power to cast such a spell.
I staggered toward the main compound, where I hoped I would find Phillip. As I opened the door, I was quite put out to find two navy guards armed with sabers. Raised my rapier point in their direction, but I no longer had the advantage of distance on them. Add to that the fact that I was in a weakened state from my resting period after the Veritas Enigmatus, and that I had a bullet wound in my right leg, and you come up with a dangerous situation. They were close to my equals in skill with a blade, if not better because of my wound.
I stepped forward into a traditional en guarde stance. They recognized the stance and slipped into it themselves. These were fencers, or at least had some fencing in their lives. This would not be easy. I made an advance and winced. I believe it was then that they noticed my wound. The one on the right pressed the attack at that moment.
It was a beautiful cut to my head. I parried in high quint and proceeded to expel his blade. I did not expect to disarm him with this action, so I had not planned on pressing the attack afterward. Before I had time to take advantage of the situation, the second engaged my blade. He attempted a feint to my side, but I saw that his real target was my wrist and parried prieme. Once again, I expelled. Once again, a disarmament. I couldn't help but grin. I had a weapon to use against them. Though they wouldn't allow themselves to be disarmed again, this revealed that they could not perform a contracting parry. This meant that my expulsions could buy me the time I needed, provided...
They began some manuvering around me. I attempted to cut them off, but the threat of their edges kept me at bay long enough for them to have me flanked.
One in front and one in back. The scenario seemed incredibly familiar to me. I saw the glazed look in their eyes... the same look that they had in my dream. They were under the imperious curse. They did not have the consciousness to care about their lives.
A beat quarte, feint, thrust and lunge were the movements that I remembered. I merely parried the attack, making no effort to riposte, but keeping opposition until I felt the intent of a cut towards my back. I pulled into septiema for the parry and reoriented for a slow overhead cut. Of course it would have done nothing, for, much to my dismay, my weapon had only a point, but the bluff was called. I used the force of my cut to expell the blade now at my front, then continued the momentum toward my rear, pulling into tierce on the other side just in time to catch the cut to my midsection.
From tierce, I feinted with a thrust, and the feint was successful. A simple doublé and I had the opening. I did not take it, but waited for the response to the open line on my part. The simultaneous attack was difficult to parry on instinct, but I found that, by pulling into octave while lunging forward, I had time before the redoublemont to turn about and parry septiem.
And then I remembered. I remembered exactly how the dream had gone, and how it ended. I was following the movements of the dream to the letter. I was never one to believe in fate, but this shocked me. I knew what was coming. I knew. I couldn't think of a way to stop it. I just couldn't. I returned to tierce in a neutral guard. If I knew what he was going to do, why didn't I try something different? I was acting out of my instincts, just as I had in my dream. That's how you are supposed to fight. You're supposed to fight with your instinctive persona... your Id, as the psychologists call it. My Id was going to get me killed, though. He ran onto my blade. This was it. This was my time.
Like I said, I do not believe in fate. I remember hearing a saying once: "If you're falling off of a cliff, you might as well try to fly. You've got nothing to lose." And so I attempted something I had never done before in a combat situation. I propelled myself into a state of hyper-cognition.
Instantly my mental awareness increased. I was able to calculate the exact distances all around me, and the exact time it would take me to make any movement, or my opponents to do the same, all within a fraction of a second. I had perfect timing and perfect distance. According to the French philosophy of fencing, that meant I couldn't possibly be harmed. I calculated the action sequence with an absolute probability of success and then performed it.
My muscles reacted out of the dire necessity to the situation, which my mind had factored into the equation. I stepped forward, pushing my sword deeper into the opponent who had ran on it. I got as close as I possibly could get to him. I heard a movement behind me. The other opponent was lunging. I ducked down and under the arm of the slain opponent, relinquishing control of my rapier, and moved his sword arm such that the saber still in his hand parried the cut. I then pushed along the shoulder of the soon to be dead combatant with my left hand while my right went the other way along his arm, grabbing his saber. Mr. Suicide's body fell onto the blade of the other, and I was free to make my attack without parry. I gave him a clean cut across the neck, severing the artery which flows blood to the brain.
I stumbled along toward the room I knew the submarines to be within, cutting down once with my newly-acquired saber to shed some of the blood. I would wish for peace for the dead another day, when all of this was over. My mind had returned to the normal mode of thought. My head hurt, even from those few moments of hyper-cognition. I realized then that the amount of variables present in a combat situation was so massive that it took a lot more thought to calculate them. This meant that, while I could use my hyper-cognition to enhance my combat ability, it took a great toll on my mind. Too great a toll, even for those brief few moments when I needed it.
I opened the door before me and breathed a sigh of relief. Phillip was standing with his back to me, one of the sabers at his side in his right hand, pointing down. Around him were several of the naval guards. "Phillip! You're okay!"
He turned around and smiled at me. He looked like he had been through seven different kinds of hell, but he wasn't afflicted with anything greater than a flesh wound. "Yeah, I'm okay. I've never been in combat like that. You should have trained us for grand melee."
"I'm afraid it's not part of the traditional fencing pedigogy."
"Well, then perhaps it should be."
I laughed a bit and hobbled in his direction. We walked toward me at an even pace. "We don't have much time to waste. Riddle will most likely attack Hogwarts any moment, if he's not already begun his attack. The police are outside waiting for me at the road, so we can't take that path... if you have any idea how to disable the barrier vs. apparation..."
I barely had time to parry the cut. Doing so caused me to lose balance and fall to my right. I rolled, painfully, and got back to my feet and en guarde in time to parry a neck cut. "Phillip, what are you doing?!"
His response was three more cuts in rapid succession. They were beautiful cuts. I parried each in turn, but could not take time to repost. His cuts were too strong. Too forceful. It took too much out of my weakened muscles just to make the parries. I staggered backward, realizing then that he must be under the imperious curse. It made tactical sense. Make certain that I knew Phillip was in danger through the most psychically sensitive member of our little group (also the one who was good with divination), and then have Phillip go after me. Two birds, one stone.
I parried seconde to a cut to my wounded leg and received a cut on my left cheek for my troubles. I retreated twice, but he kept pace with me and made another cut by lunge to my chest. I parried tierce, but his cut had more strength on it then the previous ones, and he caught my chest with some of the cut. It was not a large gash, but it was enough with my other injuries to cause me to worry about blood loss. I was starting to grow more than just faint.
I made a quick cut at his wrist, but his parry was immaculate. He expelled me from that position with such force that my saber left my hand and travelled three feet to my right. I dropped down, hoping to sweep him before he could make a cut... and encountered his right foot.
He chuckled as I lay on my back, cringing in pain. "Too weak. Too predictable," were his only words as he stood over me, saber moving to decapitate me.
Liking the general, standing relationship between my head and my body, and not wanting to jeopardize that in any way, I risked another dive into hyper-cognition. I then cought his legs in mine as if they were scissors and brought him to meet me on the floor. I scrambled toward my saber and had it in plenty of time before his attack. Instead of parrying, I dodged within inches of the cut, then cut his right arm. The cut was perfectly timed and aimed, scoring on the section sometimes referred to by fencers as the sinae (a point on the forearm incredibly close to the section between forearm and biscep, on the other side of the arm from the elbow).
His right arm now incapacitated, it was a simple matter to make a cut faster than he could parry across his chest. The cut was perfectly lethal. My battle now being over, I disengaged my hyper-cognitive mind... and despaired.
I hadn't realized. I did not even remember how it was with the two from before. No consideration of my relation or want to slay the opponents entered my mind in that state. It was logical to a fault. The opponent that is dead is the opponent that threatens you the least. It was the second mistake I had made which had cost Phillip dearly.
"Phillip! I...I," I knelt by him as he lie upon the floor, bleeding profusely.
He looked to me, sadness in his eyes. Whoever had placed him under the imperious curse had let him be. It was a win/win situation for that person. "It's okay, Telarius. It's okay. You didn't have a choice," he was forgiving me for something which I could not be forgiven.
"Don't talk. I'm going to get you to a hospital," I insisted, in blatant denial of the inevitable truth.
"No... you have more important things to do, Telarius. Riddle got out of here with twelve modified submarines. The attack was going to commence as soon as your abscence from the castle was reported..." he coughed up a gout of blood.
I closed my eyes. "Phillip... I'm so sorry."
"It was not you who killed me, Telarius. Not really. It was he who placed me under the curse. There is a reason it is unforgiveable. Avenge my death, Telarius. Do not permit Riddle to exist in any state save damned for eternity."
I opened my eyes and met his gaze. I was moved to tears. He had already accepted his death. He had always wanted to best me with a blade, and he never got the chance. I killed him when he had his greatest shot at it. So many things I had denied him which would have made him happy, and all because I thought it was better for him. Who was I to dictate what was better or worse for him? Who was I to deny him what I knew he wanted because I thought I knew better? He had never charged me with this task. I had assumed it. My crime of arrogance, but with the best intentions. Still, regardless of intention, arrogance is arrogance. I should have let him choose his own path, and helped him see it through. Let him discover things with his own eyes rather than attempt to tunnel his vision to avoid the uncomfortable revelations.
And now it was too late. He had one request of me now. Honouring it would not serve even close to my penance for my crimes against him, but I would see it done all the same.
"I swear to you, Phillip," I assumed a tone of command and determination, "Before the sun sets once more I shall destroy Tom Marvolo Riddle to such an extent as has never been done. He shall never exist in any incarnation. This I swear to you. I will honour your last request."
He smiled at me, and clasped my hand. The tears from my eyes clouded my vision. I felt his hand go limp, saw the light go out of his eyes, and the colour from his skin. With Dumbledore's glasses on, I could swear that I saw his spirit rising up out of his body, then being bound in chains of darkness. It could have been a combination of the steam from a nearby vent and my tearsoaked eyes, and it is nice to consider these things in such moments, for that image could not possibly have been a good one.
The anti-apparation barrier was down. It must have been Phillip under the imperious curse who casted it. I wiped tears from my eyes and dispelled the ward I had created. The police would enter and give the dead proper burials, though I wished that I could have tended to Phillip's personally. There wasn't the time. I had one spell to weave, and then an apparation to Hogwarts. Of course, there was only one way I was getting there.
* * *
~Are you certain?~
~Yes,~ I replied, ~Give the order to Meriam as quickly as you can. Just disable it briefly, else all of our efforts might be in vein.~
~Understood. Cordelia out. I'll contact you as soon as the barrier is down.~
The waiting was agonizing. She had given me reports from the frontlines at the speed of thought. The attack had commenced ten minutes ago, placing it around the time I ditched Hagrid's motorcycle. Riddle had come up with a few more bright ideas than I had anticipated. He kept some submarines under while others began the bombardment. As soon as one was sunk by our bombers, another would come up and take it's place. Our bombers had managed to take out three submarines thus far out of the twelve (a number I relayed to her while she gave me the report). Riddle had also enlisted a group of five dragons to provide an aerial attack. So far they had taken out two of our bombers, and none of the dragons had fallen. These numbers were distressing. Three out of twelve and zero out of five versus two out of seven. Any way you sliced it, we were losing the battle in both air and sea, and I had no backup plan. For all my tactical planning, I had not anticipated a worst case scenario. I did not want to consider the possibility that Phillip would not have been able to help us.
I struck those thoughts from my mind as soon as they came up. I could not continue to mourn his passing or I would doubtless make another critical error. There was some good news. Our Crinos units were holding the first of three lines of defense (being the Dark Forest, the lake pass, and the castle gates respectively). Forces emerge from the forest and perhaps make it eight meters away before they engage one or two of our units. We were winning the land war, and we hadn't had to pull out the Order yet.
My body's energies were lingering. By now, I had lost an awful lot of blood. Too much. I should have passed out several minutes ago, but I was determined to see this thing through conscious. Too many times in this year had I passed out after injury or strain and had to learn later what happened that I could not help. I suppose I developed a certain rebellious mode in such situations which helped keep myself in the realm of the waking.
~Telarius?~ Cordelia finally came through again.
~Yes?~
~You've got twenty seconds.~
~Understood.~
With that I gathered myself and apparated to the Hogwarts hospital wing. I was releaved to see that Madam Pomfrey was so far burdened with few wounded. I gave her a weak smile, and she gave me a look of horror. "My goodness dear! What has happened to you?!" she sounded as if she expected me to keel over at any second. It was an endearing quality in healers... overreacting.
"Many unpleasant things, all of which would take too much time that we do not have to discuss. Heal my wounds, that I might come onto the battlefield without hinderance of pain," I instructed her.
She took care of everything, including the blood loss. On my advisement, she had been preparing for a day like this for several weeks. As she was finishing the replenishment of my blood supply, I asked her: "Are these all the wounded you have received thus far?"
She nodded silently, which I did not take to be a good thing. A person in her position is usually much happier for having less wounded. I could only assume that her lack of vocal response indicated a large amount of incurable casualties.
* * *
Most of the time people want to be right about their assumptions. I didn't in this instance. I was, though. The field was a bloody mess, and I don't mean that adjective to be an explitive. As I stepped out into the open I saw several young wizards and witches in various states of dismemberment. There were a few of the Crinos dead as well, and also some giants. It seemed as though Riddle's main ground force was made up almost entirely of giants backed by wizards. I counted the number of giants remaining and the number dead versus the number of Crinos remaining and the number of them dead. On average, two Crinos could take out a giant while only losing one. At a one to one kill ratio, the ground battle was going to be close.
I spotted Deanne, who was shouting orders to the Crinos generals. It seemed as though she had the battle under control for now, but she looked frantic. I ran to her. "Deanne!" I shouted over the roar of combat.
Her head turned and she smiled. I saw that she had taken some collateral damage on her left side. A few scratches, but nothing serious. I was concerned about her, but asking her how she was would waste valuable time. "Report," I said, a little too coldly for one who was speaking to his love.
"We are still holding the first line of defense on the ground. Most of our bombers have been taken out by the dragons. Only three remain, and I've commanded them through Cordelia to focus entirely on evasive manuvers until Bill Weasley's dragons arrive to occupy Riddle's. She's been a great asset to us in this battle in relaying commands, just as you said she would. So far, we've been able to keep our heavy hitters safe and out of the way in case the situation worsens beyond our current capacity for handling."
At that point, there was the deafening sound of a nearby explosion coming from the lakeside wall. I turned to see a large piece of the outer wall missing, with rubble being tossed this way and that. "Those aren't starbursts," I commented.
"No, they're not. Phillip did not get to perform his task, I take it."
I did not respond. Instead, I turned my attention to the sky. The dragons were attempting to pin one of the bombers and force it to take a hit. It wouldn't take more than one good swipe of claw or wing to drop our air power down to two. I prayed that the swipe wouldn't come. This prayer turned out like all my others.
One of the dragons got its jaws around a bomber. I heard a cracking sound as the powerful teeth of a fully grown Norwegian Ridgeback tore through the steel plating surrouding the craft. I saw a trail of red leak out from the cockpit. I winced.
"Who was piloting that one?" I asked.
"Draco," Deanne responded.
My head sank for a moment. It was all the mourning I was afforded. I heard cries of pain in the voice of Crinos. I looked up to see several on fire. Of course. They only needed to pin two, so one dragon was free to start taking out our ground units.
"Cordelia!" I shouted.
~Done,~ her voice came into my mind.
~Options,~ I was addressing Deanne and Cordelia at the moment. Conversations at the speed of thought could go by quickly as long as everyone was focused on them. It was quicker than talking, at any rate.
~Do we have anything powerful enough to take out a dragon?~ Cordelia asked.
~Yes,~ Deanne responded, ~Telarius wove it a while ago, applying it exclusively for my use.~
~Unforuntately, it's the magical equivalent of a small fusion bomb. It would take out the dragon as well as all of our ground forces. The explosion would most likely reach us as well. We would have to fall back into our second position to be well away from the blast radius.~
~The forest has been scouted. Riddle has no other ground forces,~ Deanne informed me.
~Still, we would be destroying some of the Crinos. Even if they're constructs, I'm all for keeping them alive,~ Cordelia commented.
~Then what would you recommend?~ I asked.
~We leave our ground forces at the first line and fall back to the second, as a precaution in case my plan doesn't work,~ was her response.
~And what is your plan?~ I was genuinely curious.
~I'm going to attempt to control one of the Death Eater's minds,~ she said, simply.
I paused at that moment. ~You told me that you lacked the capacity for such a feat.~
~Yeah, I do.~
Another pause. ~What is the worst that can happen from you attempting this?~
~The majority of my nervous system could be paralyzed due to me overextending myself. I could also suffer from spontaneous bleeding, heart failure, and I could potentially develop a brain tumor.~
It sounded like the side effects to an allergy medication. ~Do it. Go after Malfoy. I think telling him of his son's death, while a low thing to do, will distract him enough for you to get in,~ I really did not see a better option available.
We fell back to the second line of defense as quickly as our strides could take us. Every once in a while, there was another deafening sound from the lake, accompanied occassionally by a shaking of the land beneath our feet. The light that came just before the sound and feeling seemed more of an afterthought. When we were in position, I gave Cordelia the go ahead.
Her gaze seemed locked at a point too far for her eyes to see. Those very orbs glazed over with a sort of opaque substance briefly. She was in telepathic communication with a person hostile to the contact, so this was expected. Her pupils then dialated rapidly. She was in psychic combat. I could go into a lecture about the nature of psychic combat, but I'd rather none of you had such information.
Several more Crinos units fell to the fires of the dragon. Blood was beginning to flow from Cordelia's tearducts. I was about to tell her to break contact when it happened. A single ray of green light connecting two points. The point of origin allowed me to know exactly where the Death Eaters were stationed. The light ended high in the sky, its result more pronounced than any cannon fire from the submarines. The dragon fell.
I looked to Cordelia, who looked quite put out, but relieved at the same time. "Are you alright?" I asked in a rare moment of compassion on the battlefield. She was in this condition because of me after all.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I think I gave him brain damage though," she replied.
"Pity. He deserved so much worse," I said, turning my attention once more to the battle at hand.
The dragon's assault had turned the tide of the ground battle in Riddle's favour. Our dragons arrived and occupied his, so our remaining two bombers were free to start neutralizing Riddle's sea power. That left one front taken care of. The dragons would fight to a stalemate, and the payload of the remaining bombers was too little to afford wasting them on the ground battle, given that Riddle was keeping submarines under to take the place of those destroyed. I wondered for a moment how he was preventing the sinking subs from hitting the submerged ones beneath him. Just a moment, though, as I realized he probably just had them set to disintegrate in such an instance. Such was the mentality of a ruthless killer.
So that left the ground battle up to our ground forces. His giants now would overcome the Crinos with enough left to make me balk. All it would take was time. Riddle only had so much time with which to prepare his spell, and he would have to move in quickly in order to secure an enemy to forcefully remove blood from. I did a quick calculation, while not quite hyper-cognitive, and determined that he could be advancing on our position with time to spare. Any way you sliced it, the Crinos were buying it.
So I decided to level the playing field. "Deanne?" I said.
"Yes Telarius?"
"Nuke them."
Cordelia looked as though she were about to speak, but Deanne beat her to the punch. "But the Crinos..."
"...are going to die anyway," I interrupted, "And this way, we'll be able to advance on the Death Eaters and end this conflict before Riddle obtains physical form once more."
"But --"
"It's an order, Deanne. I hate it as much as you do. Now nuke them."
Deanne brought out her wand with a grimace. Cordelia gave her a look as if to object, then silenced it. Meriam and Cordelia both hated to think of the Crinos as expendable, as they had talked with many of them as if they were comrades. She pointed it toward the center of the melee battle and focused.
"How long does it take her?" Cordelia asked.
"Twenty seconds to prepare, ten minutes to be ready for another," I replied.
"A lot can happen in ten minutes," she commented.
"I know."
"Infernus Obliviate," Deanne's pronounciation was without fault, and her voice had an echo attributed to all spells of such a high level of power.
A single spark shot out from her wand and impacted with the ground. At first nothing. A flash of bright white light followed the nothingness, along with a sudden complete silence... the kind of silence that could scare the unfrightenable. The heat followed as we could see the crater begin to form and the large orb ascend in the sky, connected to the ground through a single trunk. It formed an image not unlike a tree in shape.
When it was done the place where melee was once the going medium now favoured ash. The playing field was leveled. I could see now Riddle's Death Eaters assembled across the crater. I could swear I saw one of them smirk. I remembered wondering why, as we clearly had the advantage.
A rumbling. Not from the impact of a submarine cannon shell or of a spell. A subterrainian rumbling. It was all the warning we got. Vehicles with large drills on the front emerged from beneath the crater. When they were clear of the dirt, each vehicle dispatched roughly fifteen dementors and twenty five men armed with both wand and sword. From the first vehicle also emerged Vincent, who locked gazes with me. I saw. It was Riddle. His spirit was embodying Vincent's form until the ritual was complete. I counted ten vehicles, which made for a standing army of four hundred.
For the record, we had, at most, twenty able-bodied combatants.