The War of the Stories

The War Begins

*Hermione's POV*

The battle was about to begin. A tea of scouts had found a fairly large, empty clearing in the Forbidden Forest, and a team of experts decided to set up there. Characters of all ages, genders, and from different times, even. Characters I'd assumed were fictional until very recently. That was when it struck me... this really was a war. A War of the Stories.

The Ekats from The 39 Clues had set a series of explosives and traps around the edges of the clearing and in specific, but seemingly random places across the battlefield. The cats from the Warriors series were hidden in the undergrowth, waiting to strike. The fighters are lurking in wait a little ways into the forest, readying their swords and spears. The archers notch their bows, nestled carefully in the tops of trees. I know that Cade's friends are among those two groups. All that I can do is hope that we all make it out of this.

All of us magicians are hidden behind the trees or up in the branches of one, a little behind the sword fighters. A few of us are even up in the air, inside hovercrafts District 13 lent us.

"You ready for this, Cade?" I asked him mentally.

"No, of course not. It's a war, can't really know what might happen." He replied.

"We just have to trust that all will turn out well."

"What about the prophecy? 'Only with the fall of a great hero will the war finally be decided.' That part hasn't happened yet. The rest of it has all come true so far. This hero has to fall and decide the outcome of this war."

"I have a... vague idea. But let's hope... Let's hope it's no one we know. Or that..."

"Hermione... but if that idea is true... you know that-"

"I see them approaching." I said, cutting off our chat, not wanting to even consider my idea.

My idea... It was something that just disturbed me. I couldn't ever- couldn't even allow...

My train of thought was interrupted by a sudden wave of darkness approaching from the distance. It flooded the forest quickly, blinding all of us.

I panicked, and reached for Cade's hand. They could attack us in this dark and we'd be none the wiser. As soon as we touch hands, our minds meld into one, to the point where we were one. Our connection at play.

A single word echoed across our minds, bubbling with some powerful energy. An ancient word, one I could sense no one alive still remembered. A word of light. Something that people today would call a word of Angels.

We raised our joined hands in perfect synchronization, and yelled out that word, and our hands glowed with a golden white light.  It seemed to echo oddly, and a second later, I could no longer remember what word it was. But the energy that word contained reverberated across the battlefield in the form of searing light. And when our eyes recovered from the flash, we were shocked to discover that the darkness that had flooded the battlefield was gone, like a nightmare vanquished by the sun.

I couldn't believe it. What were we? No spell should be that powerful. There's no instance of any spell that powerful in recorded history. And trust me, I do my research.

Right after that realizing, the battle began with a bang. Literately. The first creatures to enter the clearing were blown sky high by the bombs we had placed there.

The battle began in earnest. More of our enemies seemed to fall then our own people. I'd almost attribute to the light we created, somehow also granting our people some extra fighting spirt. I caught a glimpse of Eragon and Arya weaving in and out of the hoard of monsters, every slice of their blade a new casualty for the other side.

The fairies from Fablehaven were amazing, these little delivers of death. One conjured a pair of flaming swords and cut an enemy into two burning halves, while another tangled up a demon in thorny, poisonous vines.

We the wizards cast some of the worst spells imaginable All the different groups did some studying before the battle, pooling our knowledge of different types of magic. One tall man steps into the clearing, then a second later, all the flesh melts off his bones and his remains turn to ashes that are soon blown away by the wind. Gruesome, certainly. But it makes us feel powerful.

We seem practically invincible, every sword movement cutting down an enemy, every spell hitting its mark. Wave and wave of enemy approached the clearing, only to be cut down. Cade and I had done our job. We'd collected the heroes we needed to combat the other side.

Moaning Myrtle and Elijah flew around wailing at people, which seemed to alarm them. I noticed with a smile that Myrtle seemed to be having the most fun she'd had in far too long. Far less moaning coming from her.

Olivia nailed a bunch of flying targets with her bow and arrow, perched in a lower branch of a tree across the clearing. Nionnien ran around in the center, laughing madly and throwing knifes at people, letting out a scream of glee upon hitting someone before continuing her frenzied dance. She definitely does worry me at times. Angelyn sat high in a tree close to us and tossed her spear at people, which magically returned to her hand after she threw it, while below her, Paris hacked right through the enemies she missed with his magically enhanced sword.

Suddenly, I heard a loud scream. I quickly turned around, dropping Cade's hand in the process. Then I saw it. A large hovercraft just above the tree Olivia was perched in. Not one of our hovercrafts, one of our enemy's. A large claw dropped down and grabbed her around the waist, then quickly retracted, bringing her inside. The hovercraft sped away before Cade and I could hold hands and cast a super powerful spell.

Paris suddenly began to run towards the hovercraft, something clutched in the hand that didn't clutch a sword. He darted through the middle of the arena, cutting enemies out of his way with quick slashes. He reached the tree, and quickly knelt down, setting up the item in his hand on the ground.

An enemy warrior stepped out from behind a tree near Paris. He held a sharp axe. After a second or two, he hurled the axe at Paris. Before anyone else could react, a small, fire-red shape launched into the air, directly in front of the axe, sacrificing itself to keep the axe from striking Paris. Paris looked on in shock, then shook his head. Clearing it, I'd guess. He pressed a button on the object.

A miniature rocket shot out at an extremely high speed, headed straight for the hovercraft. I gasped. That better not be an explosive.