Worthy Of Magic

Part 52 - Maelstrom

"It's the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more."

- Albus Dumbledore

A few days had passed since Harry entered the Badlands and so far, he was having a relaxing journey. Herds of herbivores meant food wasn't in short supply. Time flowed naturally and he spent his days travelling the uneven terrain and browsing through his new book.

Did it begin with a blast or did it simply come into existence? When we talk about the brith of the universe, do we talk about the birth of energy or the birth of vacuum. Was it the crushing weight of emptiness that burst into creation?, read the first line of the first page.

Harry flashed back to that crushing moment in the courtroom.

I travelled the length and breadth of the universe, hoping to find an answer and all I found were questions, read the second line.

Harry paused, his eyes lingered on the third line, and then he shut the book and pocketed it with a sigh. He wasn't a fan of books that were written in first person. Not wanting to let that ruin the magic of the book, he decided to read it at night, if it decided to come along. Time was more melancholic then.

He was resting against the rough bark of an ancient banyan tree, lazing at the banks of a small spring that bubbled merrily in the middle of no where. The land was uneven so the spring became a tiny stream that attracted bird life and disappeared somewhere downhill.

Harry yawned, the chattering birds were making him drowsy. He needed to find some action or he was going to die of boredom. If this was all that was there, he wondered if its name: The Badlands, was a bad joke and he was destined to wander about without an answer forever.

He shook his head as soon as the thought swam across. He had to keep moving. Staying still was bogging him down.

He got up and stretched his body and continued his climb uphill. The only vaguely interesting observation he had made was in the place he was where the land began to incline upwards. It's gentle gradient began to undulate into a nearby range of hill that seemingly disappeared near the horizon. He wondered how high and far it went and if it meant anything. The way the land was formed didn't seem entirely natural.

Nevertheless, it was a direction and he journeyed it for two days and three nights, two of which he was sure were longer than normal, until on the third morning, the horizon began dip and the climb turned downhill steeply towards a crack in the ground that opened into a wide valley.

He could see the land on the other side of the valley and carefully navigated around the sharp rocks. He was sure the sun had risen a few hours ago but the closer he got to looking into the valley, the more cloudier it became.

He could not feel it, but he knew magic was at work. What he did feel was a faint vibration under his feet as he got closer to the edge.

And when he looked over the edge, the sound of the valley he heard.

It was battle screams and bloodshed.

His eyes adjusted to the light and he saw a mass of humans and horses rushing at each other in an enormous valley, hurling weapons at each other, climbing over the dead, slicing through each other with swords and spears; all with the intention of annihilating one side.

Harry looked closer and gasped. One side was not men on horses. They were centaurs! Massive, armed centaurs, that looked far more dangerous than the ones he had crushed to death.

Above the screaming and bloodshed, Harry could make out a distinct call being repeated from the strangely dressed men on horses. Ten~gri! they were shouting.