2Written for the International Wizarding School Championship Season Two
Edited after Judging.
Round : Round Three—St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
School : Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Year : Year Five
Theme : Creature Induced Injuries—The theme has been used by introducing a new race of 'Creatures', as they are thought of by Wizards. The Elves are an intellectual race who are predecessors of what we today call House Elves. More will be made clear in the story.
Prompts : 9. (Action) Getting into a fight [Main]—the prompt is used in the story as a war, which is ongoing, in which a battle takes place also.
13. (Plant) Whomping Willow [Additional]—used by showing its creation.
12. (Emotion) Fear [Additional]
Word Count : 3292 (10% leeway used)
Word Count after 1st revision : 3900
Author's note : This story is set in the founders era, and is an AU fic wherein another race of Elves exist, from which the House Elves as we know them have descended, and who were the original inhabitants of Hogwarts and the land surrounding it. The founders are Monarchs of their kingdoms.
Albion Lands are what the British Isles were called in the Ancient Era.
The Tears Of The Willow (Haven't Fallen In Vain)
In every Kingdom that they have conquered the wand-bearers have wrought havoc over the non-wizards, whom they consider beneath themselves. But this land belongs to us, the children of the elder races—elves, goblins, faeries, and merfolk. This battle is for life. The Elder Dynasties did not begin this war, but we will finish it! A Founders Era AU in which another race of Elves exists.
I.
"The cavalry has arrived, My lady," Anedha says to Maru as the latter looks out of the window pensively. "The Centaurs have agreed to join arms with us against the wizard-kind, as have the Mer-people."
Maru hums but does not avert her gaze from the Great Forest, filled with Pines, Firs, Oaks, and Willows. She has been staring at it for the better part of an hour, hoping that by some miracle she would be able to discern the intentions of the ruthless army that is lying in wait beyond it. The army of wizards.
"And what of the goblins?"
"They remain neutral still, although the great Vayunaa thinks that it is more because they want to preserve themselves than their wish for universal peace."
Maru hums again and finally looks at her lieutenant who is clad in her armour made of tree barks and leather, dyed to camouflage her while in the company of trees. Against the walls of the Castle of Hogwarts, however, she looks as if she had rolled in wet grass before presenting herself.
"And the invitation for dinner that we had sent to Rannar of Filkar, has that been declined as well?"
Anedha pinches the tip of her pointed ear, a habit she has never been able to shake off. "The invitation has been accepted, My lady, and the Goblin Master would be pleased to dine in the company of the heads of all clans of elves …" she trails off.
"What aren't you saying, Lieutenant Anedha?"
"The goblins are awfully sure that victory will greet the wizard-kind. The message from honourable Rannar of Filkar said, amongst other things, that he would enjoy entertaining himself with our plans of defeat."
Maru smiles a slight smile and scoffs, even as a new node of worry grows in her heart. "It won't come to that, lieutenant. The Goddess Saranyu shall not have it so." She turns away as the Lieutenant leaves, and resumes staring at the forest. She sincerely hopes so.
II.
The silence that prevails at the dinner with Goblin Master Rannar of Filkar is pointed, very unlike the chatter which usually takes place at meetings of diplomacy. The table at which they are seated is round and high, made of mahogany to comfortably support elves, who are tall as goblins are short, although in strength they may well be equals.
Maru is sitting in between Sar and Arush, the leaders of the clans of Avksharit and Vanhi—the only two surviving clans apart from her own, the Kantar, in the Albion Lands. Apart from the four of them the table is occupied by their Lieutenants, each with a weapon concealed in some garment to fend off possible attacks. There is an empty seat at the table, in between Sar and his Lieutenant, for Vayunaa of Avksharit—the only elven prophet of their age, and the only mistress of the dying craft. The evening outside is silent in a manner that is unnerving, like the calm before a storm. The only sound which reaches their ears is that of water splashing in the lake—the merpeople are expectant tonight. The night herself seems to be holding her breath.
It is a while before the Goblin Master finishes eating, and everyone pushes their plates away as he does, even though most of them haven't eaten but a single morsel. The plates sink through the table and vanish, and Rannar of Filkar clasps his hands.
"Let's get to business," he says, baring his teeth.
Sar speaks before anyone else has a chance to, and Maru swallows, begging Goddess Saranyu for help and guidance. "Honourable Goblin Master," Sar says, "we propose that you join hands with the elves to fight against the wizard-kind. The wand-bearers have already destroyed and seized much of the Albion lands, and only the highlands remain out of their grasp—the highlands which are home to both elves and goblins.
"In every Kingdom that they have conquered they have wrought havoc over the non-wizards, whom they consider beneath themselves. This includes goblins as well as elves. Both our populaces are in danger, both of us have a common enemy. It would only make sense for us to join arms against those ruthless savages."
The Goblin Master smiles a smile that Maru is not entirely sure she likes.
"I'm sure you already know," he says, "what my answer is."
Maru can feel Arush's disappointment beside her, though she doesn't so much as twitch. Sar, however, is less subtle with his disappointment and sighs heavily, rubbing his face in exasperation. Rannar of Filkar does not drop his smile.
"The other goblin clans have already declined your alliance. Surely you didn't expect us to accept it without their support?"
Sar is quiet, and it is Arush who speaks up, her voice controlled and dignified. It hasn't a single trace of emotion in it, but Maru knows, as does Sar, how many emotions swirl behind her screen of composure. This alliance is perhaps the most important of all that they've proposed, and it could be the difference between victory and defeat. It could be the difference between the survival of elves, and their extinction.
"We were hoping, honorable Goblin Master, that perhaps your acceptance of our alliance would coerce the others to change their minds," Arush says. "It's no secret that of all goblin clans, Filkar is the most powerful—perhaps more powerful than all others combined. You wouldn't require their support—it's they who would require yours. Besides, we are allied with the centaurs and the merpeople."
"You honey your words, Lady of Vanhi," the Goblin Master says, pleased. "But alas, those times have gone by. The other clans once used to look to Filkar for strength, but they have now found it elsewhere." His eyes flash, and Maru has a sick feeling in her gut. The three Elf lords exhale in unison and Rannar continues, "The wizard-kind is sponsoring much of the goblin land beyond the strait. Even now the wand-bearers are crossing the mountains in the south as they make their way through goblin lands, and they are being provided with horses, herbs, wood, weapons—all by our kin in the south. And what they are being given in exchange is life; safety."
"Safety!" Sar scoffs, his anger only barely contained, and Maru's fingers silently find his and entwine in them. She squeezes his hand in warning.
"Safety from whom? The wand-bearers are the ones who are plundering and killing. Your kin is hardly being sponsored—they are being held hostage."
The Goblin Master leans back in his seat and regards Sar silently. Maru hears Arush draw in a sharp breath. She tightens her hold on Sar's hand unconsciously, her nails digging into his skin. A long moment passes within which Maru catches Anedha's gaze, fixed straight upon her, her hand on her hip, waiting for a signal. Maru hesitates for a heartbeat, then shakes her head minutely.
"You're right," Rannar says through gritted teeth, his voice cold. "You're right. It's true. The goblins of the south are helping the wizard-kind because they have been threatened with genocide. All of Albion Land knows this. They had to choose between living and dying, and they chose to live. We goblins who live in the west are aware of this, and we are also aware that the same fate shall befall us once they get here. And that they will, Elf Lords.
"They subjugated goblins, which is no small feat, however trivial you may think it to be. We have power too, but they are stronger. Much stronger than us because of the wands that they carry. And now they are much more dangerous, because the four kingdoms have formed an alliance. They are dangerous, because they have all four of our greatest threats have come together—Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff—the most powerful of the wizard kingdoms. We aren't going to be able to fight against them. Until a time comes when we have means to defeat them, it is wise to submit to them."
"And live forever as their pets? Breathe and speak at their fancy; serving them quietly in the background?"
Maru had never been happier to see Vayunaa in the nineteen years of her life, than she was now.
The newcomer enters the room and courtesies before them, and receives a nod from all of those present at the table. She ignores the seat that has been left empty for her and sits instead at one of the numerous windows of the chamber, looking inquiringly at the Goblin Master. The goblin in question burns red in anger.
"When one is faced with a choice between death and life—albeit one spent in serving another—when one's decision impacts numerous other lives, one chooses life," Rannar growls. "Not just because it is the lesser of the evils, or because it is the path of peace, but because the life of my subjects is not mine to take. It isn't mine to give. It certainly isn't mine to sacrifice."
If her heart wasn't sinking into the pits of her stomach Maru might be impressed. Vayunaa, however, is not.
"How noble, Goblin Master. Did you hold the same noble thoughts yesteryear, when you led a great chunk of your army to war against the centaurs living further north?"
Maru exchanges quick glances with Arush and Sar and then looks towards the older elf, who is not so much as looking at the smoldering Goblin Master. This is not how this was meant to go. The Goblin Master slaps his hand against the table, which shakes with his force, and springs up from his seat. His Lieutenant follows suit, and so do their own.
"You shall burn to cinders beneath the wizards—they won't leave a single one of you alive! No goblin shall help you in your endeavors, by fighting or by supplying your weapons. When you're fleeing this grand castle of Hogwarts don't come westwards, because there you shall find another enemy; the goblins." He storms out of the chamber, and Maru would follow him out and apologize except she is much too shocked. Her stomach churns as she looks from Arush to Sar, both of whom are staring at the open door with deep set frowns.
III.
Its early in the day and they are standing in the castle grounds right outside the castle, watching Sar and two of his ministers as they bring water to the moat. It is ethereal, really, watching the water suspended in the air, forming shapes and then simple blobs, but Maru is preoccupied with the news that they have received from one of their informants about the enemies.
" . . . They have drawn closer . . . have giants . . .the faeries of the middle mountains have been conquered . . . not one remains . . . they aim to harness dragons."
She looks towards Arush and Sar who are both frowning at the report. She would never say it out loud to them, but she does see some truth in Goblin Master Rannar's words. They've recruited Giants. Do they ever stand a chance at winning?
It is Vayunaa who notices her disdain first, and Vayunaa who addresses it.
"Hush those voices Lady of Kantar, they are unbecoming. They haven't reached the highlands yet. We have time." To all three of them she says, "whatever comes, we cannot let them get to the dragons. The destruction would be devastating." Her face is grim. "It's time now, to overcome the loss of our lands and focus instead on defending what we still control, and what they do not."
Maru swallows as she looks towards Arush and Sar, who had both lost their territories to the wand-bearers in the South. It was all they could do to take their remaining people and flee. The wound is still raw, she doesn't think it would be easy to ignore.
"The Great Forest is the edge of our lands now, and we defend whatever lands lie north of it," Vayunaa continues.
Maru nods, though she is not entirely convinced, and takes her leave from the group. There are other defences yet to put up—things she hadn't thought they'd need, but it has come to this at last. She passes one group of soldiers and then another, spread at different points through the grounds, and then stops finally at the edge of the forest, waiting for Anedha, who has been following her from a distance, to catch up with her.
"I want all able hands from our clan. Men, women, old, young—just bring them here."
Anedha nods and makes towards the castle running, but Maru hardly notices. She sinks by a Willow tree near where she is standing and places her palms at its base. She feels her hands tingle and feels warmth rise in her body, even though the sun hasn't completely risen yet. Slowly, as if she were taking the first sip from freshly made tea, she lets a trickle of power move from her hands and into the tree. The tree pales, then grows a bit more until it begins to shake all by itself, and within a few moments Maru has drawn back her hands. She steps back a few steps, then watches as the tree extraordinarily moves and sways as if in a strong gale, although the wind isn't blowing.
Slowly, tentatively, she joins the palms of her hands together and mutters a spell. Moving carefully to avoid the aggressively swaying branches of the tree, she opens her palms and releases a small sparrow towards it, watching grimly as the branches attack their moving target. She turns towards the members of her clan who have arrived at the scene and, with an uncanny gleam in her eyes, motions towards the forest.
"The wizard-kind is at our heels. Those ruthless wand-bearers will stop at nothing to murder and plunder the elven lands, but we have an ally," she says, "the Great Forest. The forest is dark and deep—it has creatures that the wand-bearers have never heard of before, and they are scared of it." She looks around the serious faces of her elves. "The biggest and toughest wall between them and us is the forest. And we will not make their journey easy. Our elders taught us woodland magic to spread peace and prosperity among our kinds. But that is not to say that we cannot use it to defend ourselves or even attack, when it comes to it." She turns to look at the enchanted willow swaying its branches dangerously. "Our trees are our friends, and today they will become our protectors."
The elves nod behind her and several cheer. On her nod they enter the forest, their eyes glowing green and lips wording enchantments. Anedha remains behind with Maru, feeling the hum of magic coming from the forest.
"How far do we let them go, my Lady?" Anedha asks.
"Two thirds of the way, where the spiders' nests begin."
Anedha nods.
IV.
"They are right at the mouth of the forest in the south, my lady. Only the brook remains between them and the forest," Anedha says urgently, parchment crumpled in her hand.
"The brook has been enchanted," Sar says, "the enchantment is strong—it shall hold for a while—but not for too long." He swears. "I hadn't counted on them crossing the Volcanic Pasture."
"They are strong," Arush says grimly, "stronger than we had thought. It wouldn't have been easy to cross the fire enchantments we had set up."
Maru's face is set in a hard frown, as are the other elf lords'. Her heart is beating loudly in her ears, loud enough that she thinks it is going to beat out of her chest. Vayunaa is staring at a dagger of silver set on the table in the armoury.
"We should deploy a troop inside the forest, as guerilla attackers—they can take down the wizards who cross the spiders' nests with arrows," Sar says a moment later, "what do you say, Lady Vayunaa?"
She gives a quiet hum. Maru joins the conversation for the first time that evening, her voice firm and face pensieve, "One of my archery corps will do—they shall also have the advantage of being accustomed to the woods. Their uniform shall serve to camouflage them."
Sar and Arush nod, and Maru nods to Anedha. The Lieutenant leaves the chamber hurriedly, her armour and sword creating a ruckus. A stinging silence follows.
"It's time," Maru says finally. "They are here. It's time we put on our armour ourselves, and rally our troops." She wishes she feels as confident as her words make her sound.
Arush nods, drawing her dagger from her tunic. She swipes her finger across its blade, and a drop of blood appears at the site of the wound. She puts her finger to Maru's forehead first, her blood forming a red spot on the younger elf. She does the same to Sar and last of all herself. Clasping her hands she sends a quick prayer to Saranyu, and nodding to Maru both elves leave. It's only when she speaks in an eerie tone does Maru remember that she is not alone. Vayunaa is looking right at her, her eyes glowing golden, voice tinkling like bells.
"This is the end, Lady of the Kantar. Tonight death shall greet us all. The elves as we know them shall not last. Save your race, Maru of Kantar."
Vayunaa faints before Maru can ask any questions. Anedha's harried presence in the doorway ushers her out of the armoury before she can properly think of any.
V.
The troops have been divided by tasks. The vulnerable from the settlements have been sent inside the castle. Maru spurs her steed to the front of the army, taking her place between Arush and Sar. The army is huge. The centaurs have joined ranks. At the far corner she can see merpeople with their pitchforks. This is a battle for life.
"Elves of Kantar, Vanhi, and Avksharit, centaurs of Kostede, merpeople of Hogsmead," she shouts, her voice echoing, "the time has come to do our part for the world. The wand-bearers shall know after tonight not to tread on our grounds. The Elven Dynasty did not begin this war, but we will finish it!"
The army roars before her, lifting their weapons. "To Saranyu and Ribhhus!" Sar shouts from beside her, and the soldiers echo his cry, "To Saranyu and Ribbhus!"
The sound is almost lost in their warcry, but it cuts through Maru's chest like a sword. The thundering of hooves, the shaking of the ground gives way to a dark mist which rises from the Great Forest. It is a moment before she realizes that the mist is dust. They have breached the spiders' nests.
"Charge!" Sar cries, and in unison the army spurs its steed and locks its weapons. The battle begins in a blur, archers shooting fiery arrows from the castle's roof, wizards colliding with elves, centaurs, and merfolk alike. The wizards come in a trickle, the enchantment of trees holding and wounding them in hundreds. But the wizards have wands, and they have brought giants, as promised. They kill in what Maru imagines is thousands. Instinctively, she thrusts and parries, her sword her only comfort, killing wizards before they can aim their spells, trying to buy herself the time to chant her own.
Right away she knows that it isn't enough.
"Save your race, Maru of Kantar."
Smoke rises from the forest, and from the stream of wizards enter their four leaders, instantly discernable by their decorated armours. They kill ruthlessly, wound mercilessly, and before she knows it she is crossing and jumping over her soldiers, lying motionless in pools of crimson, aiming spells left, right, and center at whatever wizard she comes across.
Before she knows it she is sparring the lady armoured in blue, Ravenclaw, as Sar beside her battles her ally Gryffindor. It's all she can do to defend herself before she attacks with her spells, let alone use her own. She senses Sar fall before she sees him. With an almighty shove she manages to disorient her opponent and turns towards Sar, who is lying in a heap in the middle of the battlefield, blood gushing out of his chest as he struggles to breathe. For one childish moment she thinks he'll get back up, but he is gasping for air and Ravenclaw is on her again, attacking relentlessly, and they are sparring away from him before she can tug him to safety.
Anedha is beside her, she realizes numbly, and they are both attacking Ravenclaw together. Maru's spell stills Ravenclaw's steed long enough for Anedha's sword to cut through her chest and her blood spurts out. Ravenclaw falls. Maru doesn't know if she is still alive, nor does she care. She looks at Anedha, covered in blood and gore, looks at the battlefield, bloodied and burning, and makes a decision. They aren't enough in strength to fight the wizards. Sar is dead.
"Save your race, Maru of Kantar."
"Here, Anedha!" she screams, racing towards the castle, whose gates are being attacked. Arush is battling Slytherin, her lieutenant by her side. She mutters a spell under her breath and the wall before her portals to the inside of the castle. It closes behind them.
"Get them to the passage leading to Hogsmeade pastures!" She races towards the dungeons without waiting for an answer.
By the time she surfaces to the outside of the castle's wall—the strip of land between the castle and its moat—the gate is burning. It's only about time before it breaks. Anedha is standing at the tunnel, ushering in women and men with little children. Maru hands her a roll of parchment and a silver dagger.
"Take this to Aglof of Lannark in the land beyond the sea," she says to her urgently as the last of the elves descend. "This is your clan now. It is your duty to deliver them."
"But my lady—" The pounding on the gate drowns out her words.
"Go, Anedha! My duty to my clan shall be done here, on this battlefield. Do not disappoint me."
The gate breaks with a great shudder. Anedha nods and descends as Maru closes the mossy lid, sword in hand, poised to defend. From beyond the entrance she can see Arush's limp form. Slytherin's eyes are focused on her as he gallops from over Arush's body towards her. Maru swallows, then jumps off her horse, spurring it towards the wizard to deter him. She crouches at the opening of the tunnel and puts up the strongest protective spell she knows before she begins reciting a spell, her eyes glazing over.
There is nothing else left for her to do, she decides. There is nothing else she can do. She channels all her power into it, the aura of the spell strong enough that Slytherin is thrown back when he approaches her. Her brown skin pales, her hair turns green. Her legs change form and body shoots upwards. She screams, tears cascading down her face for all the pain as she channels the last of her strength. Her body turns woody and hands divide as they begin to sway. The rest of it happens in a flash. In that flash she sacrifices the last of her consciousness.
This is her destiny.
Her tears flood the grounds.
I've saved my race.
A/N: Hey Everyone! This was a founders era AU which I had a lot of fun writing. I hope you enjoyed reading this :) I fully intend to write a longer piece of fiction about this, but on fictionpress :p. Also, in case it wasn't clear, The Whomping Willows, as we call them, are ordinary willow plants magically altered by elves. The Whomping Willow plant, which is in the grounds, is actually Maru herself because she turned herself into a whomping Willow to prevent the wizards from gaining entry into Hogsmead to buy her people time. It's obviously an AU.
