536A/N: Thanks to those helping me write and plan out this story and checking it for continuality and logical errors.
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Year 1 Part 9
… …
As the magical energies of the portkey, ones that had lasted longer than I'd experienced before and made my insides feel as if they were Sirius' outsides, end, I felt my feet touch something solid. As much as I would've preferred not to, I took a stumbling step back from the large copper ring that was the portkey. One hand remained on the portkey, the other grasping my Lord's chest tightly. Even though it was secured to my grasp by a magical length of cloth – one designed to prevent sizable items from being lost during the long-distance use of portkeys – I still felt better retaining the tactile sensation of the chest's front handle against my skin.
"Ow!"
After a few quick blinks to adjust to the light in the new location, I looked at Sirius, seeing that the reason he'd called out was that he'd lost his grasp on the copper ring and fallen backwards, landing on his butt on the solid white floor of the chamber we'd arrived in. Looking at the others with us, I saw that Regulus had like his brother let go of the portkey. However, one of Arcturus' arms – the one his chest was connected to by the same style of cloth as my chest was – had extended an arm and prevented the youngest of our party from falling.
As I let go of the portkey and stepped back, I saw Sirius' eyes narrow for a moment at his grandfather preventing his brother from falling and not him. Given how we had stood around the ring, there was no way Arcturus could've stopped Sirius from falling, but the little flicker of anger was another sign along the path of the deteriorating bond between the boy and his family.
I offered my now-free arm to him, which he took gratefully. As he stood, my eyes wandered the chamber we were in. I noted that like the one in the Ministry in London, the room was circular and devoid of any patterns on the walls. The difference was in how the room was constructed.
The Ministry's international portkey rooms, which it used to monitor international travel, were made of seemingly a single, impossibly large, piece of oak. The wood had been magically smoothed so there was no hint of rough bark on the walls or floor, and in several key locations around the room runic arrays were carved into the bark. Arrays were carved into the white stone of this new chamber – the walls possibly made of marble though that was just a guess – but the arrays used runes I'd never seen before. I knew that these arrays served the same purpose as those in the Ministry's international portkey chambers, and I was curious about the runes used in them. However, until I learnt the exact purpose of the runic arrays used by the Ministry, and delved deeply into Grecian rune systems, I wouldn't understand much if anything about what I was seeing.
Once Sirius was up, I moved to the nearest array and ran my hand over the wall near it. I wasn't stupid enough to touch an unknown array, even one that should be designed for safety, but even keeping clear of the intricate markings, I swore I could feel magic flowing through the stone of the chamber. It felt similar to the magic I experienced flowing through the Ministry, though with what felt like an aged quality that I experienced at Dunscaith and Hogwarts. This chamber was older than the Ministry's chamber, possibly close to the age of the two Scottish castles, if not potentially a little older given the age of Grecian magical society.
I closed my eyes, trying to sense more about the magic, as while it was familiar there was a hint of something foreign and different about it. Not in any way that I might consider it dangerous or threatening, but enough that I felt a pull towards it and was curious to discover what made it feel so unique. At least for the moment.
"Dòmhnall." I turned at Arcturus' usage of my name. As I did, I saw that he along with his grandsons were moving towards an opening in the circular chamber. One that hadn't been there when we arrived. I moved quickly, my chest floating along behind me connected to me still by the magical cloth, after them. Sirius and Regulus had chests of their own with them. However, to make transport easier, and as those chests weren't as powerfully enchanted as the ones Arcturus and I used, those two chests had been placed inside Arcturus' lordly chest.
Today was the first time I'd seen the Black Lord's Chest, and while it was styled differently from mine, from what I could see of the runic carvings along its surface, it was just as carefully designed and crafted. It was, however, far more lavishly decorated than mine, which was a reflection on House Black versus Clan MacLeod.
While my family hadn't historically skimped on anything for the family, like most of the Clans in the Isles that still followed the old ways, it was more functional than decorative. House Black had come to the Isles with William the Conqueror and brought with them the more elegant and refined – relatively speaking – approach of the magical French noble class. Or at least what it had been back then. I'd not seen such chests from a French senior noble so I couldn't say if their chests had the same level of intricate extravagance as Lord Blacks' did—knowing the French it was likely more so.
"Greetings, and welcome to the Greek Free City of Sparta." The voice was coming from the passageway outside the chamber, so I didn't see the speaker at first. "I am Polemarch Paraskevas: A senior member of the Spartan City Guard. I have been tasked by The Gerousia to escort you, Lord Black, and your party, to the residence of Geronte Orestis Siskakos."
I emerged into the corridor, one carved from the same white stone as the chamber, as the man finished. He was dressed in what, to the eyes of a muggle, would appear to be archaic armour. Bronze covered his chest, shoulders, waist, and upper thighs. Bracers protected his forearms, and he wore open-toed sandals that had leather straps running up almost to his knees. The chest piece of his armour, along with those covering his shoulders and the bracers on his forearms were intricately decorated with patterns that would be markings of his rank. Or at least one of the bracers was intricately decorated. The other was oddly plain, and the one that was engraved had a simple rod, about the length of the man's forearm, attached there. Over one shoulder, and running down almost to the floor, was a cloak of deep, crimson red that fit with what I knew of Sparta and would either be another way to denote rank, or a member of the City Guard.
One other thing of interest about our greeter was that while I could hear him speaking Greek, or more accurately something akin to Ancient Greek, I was hearing English. That was because of the small magical devices that Arcturus had given all of us before we stepped into the Ministry's international portkey chamber. They looked to be little more than clip-on earrings but acted as almost instantaneous translators of whatever language they were enchanted to translate. It was a novel way to get around the issue that English, unlike in the muggle world, was not the dominant world language.
"On behalf of the British Ministry of Magic and the Wizengamot, we thank you for meeting us, Polemarch Paraskevas, and for your escort to the house of the Geronte." Arcturus' reply was accompanied by a deep bow. I also bowed, as did Sirius and Regulus, though the latter was the last to copy the gesture. Something that might irritate Arcturus if he saw it.
Paraskevas gave a nod, and without saying another word turned and began walking down the corridor. Our party moved to follow, though an odd sound – as if stone were sliding around – from behind me, caused me to stop and look back. My eyes sparkled with interest as I saw that where there had been an entrance to the chamber we'd arrived in, now there was only seamless stone. My fingers brushed over the stone; trying and failing to find the edges of the entrance that I knew was there but didn't appear to be.
With a smile, I turned back and moved to catch up with the Blacks and our escort. While a wall merging like that was a simple matter with magic, it was something I didn't see often, and it was nice to still, after years as my merged persona, to still find moments where I could be amazed at such innocuous and commonplace displays of magic. I expected that I would have more moments like that here in Sparta – which was not the city I'd expected us to visit in the Greek Free States – and then in Egypt. Beyond what I might learn in the two great cities, the chance to marvel at magic again was one I was looking forward to.
The walk was made in, bar the odd mutterings between the Black boys, silence. That allowed me to examine the corridor as we moved. There was little to see here, beyond the torches at regular intervals that illuminated the corridor and markings, carved in bronze or copper, that appeared with regularity. As I saw a handful of similar patterns and markings in them as in the portkey chamber, I was certain they were runic arrays. However, as before, without a guide to understand the rune language, or knowing how they were designed to work, I couldn't make heads or tails of their function. At least not beyond some educated guesses.
What stood out, however, was the massive difference with the corridors in the Ministry. Instead of the extravagant, and sometimes gaudy, displays, markings, and murals that covered every corridor of the Ministry that I'd seen before – with a particular focus on those leading to the international portkey chambers – these were blank. As if the Spartan government had, understandably I supposed given their historical culture, little interest in grandiose displays of wealth and self-importance. Whereas the Ministry's walls were engraved with silver, gold, and various gems and jewels, Sparta – or at least the corridors of their international portkey chambers – was devoid of such displays. Something my eyes were grateful for as the Ministry's attempts to make itself seem important, and in some ways, the only power structure in the Isles, were misleading and slightly offensive. Which might be why the Wizengamot often moved to block many of the proposals brought forth by the Ministry that would increase the latter's power and influence.
As we continued walking in silence, my mind shifted. I had expected us to head to Athens. It was, after all, the nominal capital of the Greek Free States, and the closest major location to where the Grecian Senate was based. The exact location was something hidden from outsiders, with visitors – regardless of whether they were tourists or dignitaries – forced to enter the place via portkey. Or at least that's what the books on the Free States said was the case. Athens was also the centre of magical learning in the Free States, so it felt like the more obvious place to visit.
However, instead of finding myself there, I was in Sparta, which was… Well, it was SPARTA! This was THE warrior city in Western culture. Merlin, even in the magical world, it was considered the home of some of the finest historical warriors to have ever lived. And I was here walking through it, and would soon have the chance to explore the great city.
Part of me was curious if Sirius, Regulus, and I would be able to train with the local children while we were here. As amazing as that would be, the odds they would invite outsiders to train with their future warrior wizards and witches were remote. That said, I hoped they were willing to at least allow me to study some of their training techniques. I exercised daily even while at Hogwarts – something that fewer wizards and witches did than one would expect given the importance of stamina and conditioning in all aspects of life – but I had only some guides to work with. Learning anything from how a warrior culture trained their young magicals was something I would absorb like a sponge.
That said, as the walk continued, my mind then realised that perhaps Arcturus bringing us here was to potentially instil some discipline and conditioning in us. Or at least in Sirius and Regulus. Sirius was drifting away from his family, and this might be a last – or close to last – roll of the dice by Arcturus to see if he could be shaped into someone who would one day be worthy of being Lord Black. At the same time, he could monitor Regulus to determine if he might be a better choice for the title.
Arcturus requesting my presence on this trip, outside of improving the bonds between me and his grandsons, was less clear, but since I was here I intended to learn everything and anything I could. You never knew when something might be of use.
We emerged, finally, into a different chamber. This one, based on its size, served the same function as the main transit chamber in the Ministry that led to the various international portkey chambers. The presence of multiple entrances like the one we had just emerged from at regular intervals around the large circular room, along with the posting of guards near each passageway confirmed that.
Each of the warriors was dressed similarly to Paraskevas, though their armour lacked the decoration of his. They also, I noted as I looked at the guard next to the corridor we'd just emerged from, were holding a bronze spear in one hand and a shield in the other. My eyes widened slightly as I caught sight of the fact that the guard near us didn't have a rod against one bracer and the other was made of bronze. Each of those was replaced by the spear and shield, respectively. That had me reasonably certain the bronze bracer and rod were the weapons when stored. A smart way to ensure a guard was never unarmed while moving around.
The shields were emblazoned with the ancient standard of the city, causing a burst of giddiness to rush through me at another sight that I was in Sparta. I pushed that burst of excitement away, resuming my inspection of the large chamber we were now in.
Most of the people moving around wore what one would expect of a Greek. Loose tunics, simply decorated, stretching down to their shins. Each wore open-toed sandals, though only the soldiers seemed to have the straps running up to their knees. Everyone else had them ending somewhere between their ankles and mid-shin.
As we passed the nearest guard, my eyes lingered on his spear. Thanks to the boosts granted by the second flesh-array, I could see the almost invisible markings that ran along the shaft of the weapon. They seemed to glisten in the light of the chamber – which entered through a large opening at the top of the dome – and drew my focus. I slowed my steps, wanting to engrave every little marking on the shaft into my mind for future study, though I didn't stop.
Gawking at the warriors might cause an issue. Yes, I was a child and visitor to the city – my clothing made that clear – but such behaviour wasn't something I felt would be tolerated. Add in that I was a member of the Wizengamot, though one not old enough to either sit in the chamber and staring too long at any person here might cause issues for Arcturus and whatever business he might have with our host.
My hand reached out suddenly. Not for the guard, but for Sirius as he moved with a mischievous smile towards the guard. I pulled him back as unobtrusively as I could, though I saw the guard's eyes watch me with a flicker of amusement.
"Behave," I growled quietly at Sirius. "We're guests here and I don't want the first day to be ruined by us spending a night in their version of a DMLE cell because you wanted to prank a guard!" My tone was as harsh as I could make it without raising it, and while this wouldn't do anything to help mend the distance between myself and Sirius, I was not going to get into trouble because he wanted to act like a spoiled little brat.
I let him go quickly, not allowing him to respond though making sure he was moving after his grandfather and Paraskevas. The pair were moving towards what had to be the exit of the chamber. It was the only archway that was wide enough for more than two people to walk through side by side and had the largest movement of people through it. Like the other passageways, the gap in the chamber was marked out by iron.
What confirmed that it was the entrance was the brightness of light I saw outside. As I followed the others out of the chamber – making sure Sirius was ahead of me so I could watch him if he tried anything else – I lifted one hand to my forehead. Using it to shade myself from the sun, I took in my first proper sight of the city of Sparta.
It was, in a word, breathtaking. Everything seemed to be made of the same stone as the portkey chamber we'd emerged from, though with various amounts of iron, copper, and bronze added to them. Locals and a handful of tourists – or at least non-Grecian tourists – moved around the streets as various market stalls lined the walkway leading from the portkey chamber. Those vendors were selling all manner of things, from fruits and snacks to, most amusingly, what appeared to be nicknacks and trinkets that wouldn't be out of place in muggle tourist traps.
As we moved down the walkway, my mind started turning as I wondered how long we would be here, and what I would learn. Already my mind was abuzz with ideas, but until we greeted our host and were settled in I would contain my excitement as best I could. And, as I saw him move towards one of the stands, dragging his brother along with him, keep an eye on Sirius. At least as much as I was willing to do as I wasn't going to let him ruin my holiday through his acting out.
… …
… …
My world was flipped upside down and around, and a moment later I grunted in both pain and annoyance as my shoulder struck the dry dirt of the ground I had just been standing on. It was the umpteenth time I'd ended up in such a position since my arrival in Sparta and as I rolled over, coughing out the latest batch of dirt to end up in my mouth, I looked up at the boy who'd taken me down. Again.
"That is another victory for me," Ioannis Siskakos stated with a confident smirk as he stood over me. Ioannis was the grandson of Geronte Orestis Siskakos – one of the members of the Spartan Senate – and was the same age as me. He wasn't in line to become the head of his family, having two older brothers, but from what I'd learnt in the week I'd been in Sparta, his name alone carried influence in the city, and even elsewhere in the Greek Free States.
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered as I reached up and took his offered hand, "I know." I let him pull me back to my feet. "Hardly a surprise given you've been training like this since you were seven while I've been here six days," I added as I patted myself down slightly and then moved back a few paces.
Spartans, regardless of gender, began their military training at seven in various places like this. They trained year-round, only returning home for special occasions. Beyond important birthdays in the family – usually those of the head of the household or commemorating the date the house was founded – the only time they returned to their families was for major celebrations. Those were centred around the various major gods of Grecian society, with each city and family placing greater emphasis on certain gods and goddesses over others. Such as the Festival of Ares being a far more critical event in Sparta than the Festival of Athena.
"This is true," Ioannis replied as we reset ourselves in what the Spartans used as a base starting stance for unarmed combat. There was nothing particularly unusual about the stance, as it was one that you would find in many fighting styles as an opening position, but it was the basis from which all Spartan training initiated.
Ioannis' movements both into the stance and once there as we stayed still for a moment, were crisper than mine. "Still, you do not back down even when bettered and continually seek to improve. Something worthy of a warrior."
I nodded, accepting the praise just before we began circling each other. His hand snapped forward, forcing me to consider in the moment if they were a true attack intended to grasp my forearms or tunic, or if they were a feint intended to draw me into making a mistake. I drifted back, letting the hand find nothing but air and then teased moving to grab his wrist before he pulled the arm back.
He smiled at the simple, but effective counter I had tried, making clear his enjoyment of our latest spar, and I knew I was smiling as well. The training at this Ekpaideftikí Akadimía – which was one of dozens around Sparta and hundreds or even thousands around the Free States – was intense yet I was finding myself enjoying it.
Every morning, we woke early and carried out a long jog, easily covering a good five or so miles. We then returned to the Akadimía and spent, as we were doing now, unarmed sparring in the large yard of the Akadimía. Lunch was a brief affair, with a lack of a full plate of food an intentional choice by the Spartans, before we moved onto afternoon duelling with magic.
The Grecians didn't use wands, instead using something that covered the entire hand in bands of metal and had a focusing gem located in the palm for directing the spells. The metal was an odd fit over my hand, as I wasn't used to it, but I would concede that it allowed the hand to remain free so that a Spartan, or any other Grecian, could wield their spear if needed. I wasn't comfortable with the amulet-like device, but the Akadimía accepted this and allowed any wizard from outside the Free States to use whatever foci they knew for that part of the training. The only time they made any allowances for outsiders.
Ioannis' fingers brushed over my wrist as I twisted, not wishing to allow him to grasp me again. I countered by shifting my body to one side and then sweeping out a leg. The Grecian boy leapt back, ensuring the kick missed, but he gave me another nod as he landed, seemingly impressed with my quick counter.
Around us, the other students in the Akadimía were moving with their sparring partners as well, and it was simple to tell which were non-Grecians as they were generally the ones who ended up on the ground the most. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sirius being pulled over his opponent's shoulder and then tossed to the ground. I didn't see anything more as my focus returned fully to Ioannis.
The Grecian moved in fast, forcing me to scurry back before I was forced to leap to avoid him mirroring my earlier move and attempting to sweep out my legs from under me. Unlike me, however, Ioannis knew how to adapt, and the sweeping foot came up, striking the heel of one of my feet.
Because of the strike, I landed awkwardly, and before I could recover, Ioannis struck me again, sending me down to the ground once more. I pounded the dirt in annoyance at another loss, but quickly let go of the anger. There was no point in holding onto it as this wasn't a case of me making mistakes but being beaten continuously by someone better than I was. No, I had to learn from every defeat and improve myself, so I didn't fall for the same mistake twice.
"You are learning quickly, my friend," Ioannis commented as he helped me back to my feet with a smile. "But not fast enough that you will be able to defeat me."
"Maybe not this year," I replied as I moved back and reset my stance. "But the future's a long and winding road."
Ioannis was one of the best students in our group, and I'd been paired with him by his grandfather specifically. Orestis Siskakos knew Arcturus from the World Wizarding War – though the exact details were unknown to me – and once he learnt I was the head of my family, such as it was, he wanted me to learn from the best. In this case, his third son.
Ioannis was in the top three of his year in Sparta, beating students from the various other Akadimía Magikís Máchis in the city. Because of that he, along with the rest of the top twenty would be attending the Grecian equivalent of Hogwarts. Only the top twenty students, regardless of gender, from each of the seven great Cities of Greece attended along with the top thirty from the minor cities. Details on the school were hard to come by, with its location and name being hidden from outsiders. The only discernible way to tell if someone had attended it was a small badge a student could wear while attending, and then a necklace granted to each graduating student.
Orestis Siskakos had one such necklace. It was carved of bronze – supposedly celestial bronze – with the symbols of the twelve major gods along it. In the centre was a brilliant ruby, the colour of which was associated with Sparta, which was engraved with the symbol of Sparta. The senior instructor of this Akadimía, Lambros Geride, was another who wore that necklace proudly.
Geride had served as Genikós in the Grecian National Guard and then held the same post in the local Spartan Guard, over a career spanning fifty years. While the man was pushing a hundred, he still looked to be in his forties and could best any of the other instructors at this Akadimía. Or so Ioannis and others had told me.
Each city in the Free States, be it one of the major seven or a minor one, had its own Guard. This served the function of the DMLE for the city, while the Grecian National Guard oversaw national interests. The City Guard reported to the local senates of each city, the Geronte in Sparta, while the National Guard was under the command of the Grecian Senate. That handled matters of state security and the like while the cities handled local law enforcement, at least so long as it didn't counter something decided by the Grecian Senate or the ICW.
It was an interesting system, one further compounded by the fact that only those who attended the National School of Magic could sit in a city or national Senate, with the latter only open to those who had served ten years in the former. Theoretically, it was possible to fail upwards, but generally speaking, only the strongest and most powerful magical users would be capable of leading a city or the Free States, which was, at least in my opinion, a better choice than allowing anyone who had passed their OWLs to stand to be Minister.
When one looked at the long, storied, and often violent history of the Free States – both from internal issues and external threats – having only the best lead the cities and nations ensured made even more sense. Those historical external threats, which had ranged from Babylon to Persia, and through Egypt, Roman, and the various successor states that took shape in Europe and the Middle East, made the choice to hide the location of their premiere magical school and the Grecian Senate from outsiders even more logical.
Of those great threats, only Egypt retained its glory. There was a Roman remnant state that controlled central and southern Italy, along with the islands of Sicily, Sardina, and Corsica and a small holding on the other side of the Adriatic Sea, but the Babylonian and Persian magical empires had, like muggle history stated, fallen to the ravages of history. The same was true of the empire of Alexander the Great; one of the greatest wizard warriors to ever live.
There was also a magical Byzantine Empire that had withdrawn from the muggle world around the time the rise of the Ottomans had occurred. They held much of modern-day Turkey, the Middle East, and the Eastern Mediterranean along with parts of south-eastern Europe. However, while a large, ancient, and powerful empire on the surface, they were wracked by issues with muggleborns of various religious and ethnic creeds coming into their world and rebelling against the discovery that the Byzantines remained in charge. Of all European countries, the Byzantine Empire was perhaps the most anti-muggle there was, though they never stepped out of line with the ICW. At least officially.
Most of the information I now had on those countries came from my time in Sparta as they were barely touched on in History at Hogwarts. Instead, the subject focused, at least in First Year, on more recent local events such as the First Wizarding War and its effect on the Isles and Western Europe. That sort of bias existed in every country, but I was curious about the rest of the world and would be, as time allowed, studying about the greater powers in both Europe and beyond.
My thoughts refocused fully on Ioannis as we began again. Circling each other slowly, I looked for any opportunity to, for once, attack. If I kept defending, then I'd lose. Morgana, even if I attacked, I'd still lose but at least it would show me something different.
After slapping away a grasp for my wrist, I moved forward. Ioannis' eyes widened for a moment, caught out by my intent. He stumbled back, his eyes expressing shock as he placed a hand on his chest. The blow I'd landed wasn't powerful, but it was a reminder that he shouldn't underestimate me.
As I savoured the brief respite of superiority, the sound of Sirius cursing from nearby as he was thrown to the ground, followed by a string of insults, reached my ears. Unlike me, Sirius didn't have the boost from a flesh array to be able to move and think faster. Nor, as had become apparent during the last week, did he place much focus on his general health. Now, he was in decent shape for his age, mainly because he enjoyed flying around on his broom and goofing off whenever he could. However, against me that wouldn't be enough to win a spar, and against the locals, it meant that every time I ended up tasting the dirt, he did so four or five times as much.
My hope, and that of Arcturus' as well I believed, was the continual degradation and defeat that would inspire Sirius to improve, though I wasn't holding out much hope. I'd talk with him after the training was over. For now, my focus remained on Ioannis as I watched and waited for how he would respond to me finally landing a blow against him.
The Spartan gave me a nod, one acknowledging the blow, though the smile of amusement he had been wearing was gone. As he came at me, I readied myself for the incoming pain. I knew I was going down hard, but that was fine. I had shown my improvement, and it wasn't a matter of how often I was taken down that mattered to me, only that I got back up and learned from each defeat, no matter how painful it was.
He came at me fast. Faster than he had so far. My mind swirled in surprise and reacted. My limbs moved as quickly as I could make them, helping me slide back and to the side avoiding his various attempts to either strike or grapple me. For the first time since applying the second flesh array, I felt I was pushing myself to at least close to my new limits. Ioannis was stronger, better trained, and more skilled at this sort of combat than I, yet as he came at me, I was able to if not challenge him, then at least delay my defeat. Enough that I saw hints of annoyance forming on his features.
Eventually, no matter how much I fought to delay and avoid it, he gained the upper hand. My mind understood what my mistake had been, but given I was currently airborne, moving over Ioannis' arm bound for the ground below, there was little I could do to correct my mistake.
Another grunt slipped from me as my arm and hip bore the brunt of my forced landing, though before I could recover I felt something press against my neck. I quickly realised Ioannis had locked me in a chokehold, something made worse as I was pulled back and his leg slipped around my side, pinning one arm against my body.
Knowing there was no way to escape the hold, I lifted my other hand and held up my fore and middle fingers. That was, as we had been instructed on our first day at the Akadimía, how one signalled defeat. The first few times I'd been placed in a hold designed to incapacitate me or break my bones, I'd been a touch slow in giving the signal, believing falsely that I could escape. After days of training, I knew better, and that once I gave up there would be no respite before we resumed.
The pressure against my throat eased and Ioannis moved back, sliding his leg from my midsection. I turned to the side, coughing as I fought both the dust in my mouth and the need to breathe properly again. Once I'd recovered, I saw the Spartan standing over me, his hand extended while he wore a warm expression. "You improve faster than I expected," he commented as he again pulled me to my feet," but your lack of training hampers you."
"It does," a new voice agreed as I reached my feet. Turning I saw that Lambros Geride had come closer while we sparred. "You move well, outsider, and have great potential as a warrior. However, your training up until now has been sorely lacking."
I lowered my head, accepted his words, and remained silent. One of the other rules of the Akadimía was that speaking out of turn, even while outside the complex, was unacceptable. Inside it could result in rather painful punishment; something Sirius was well aware of given his almost habitual tendency to offer an opinion where none was wanted or needed.
Most students learnt after the first lashing with the whip – the punishment administered by older students who trained elsewhere in the Akadimía or served as junior instructors – to hold their tongue. Sirius, being himself, hadn't. It had taken ten lashing sessions, each longer and harder than the last before he started controlling his need to speak. Oh, I could tell he still wanted to say something, but the fact the Instructor didn't care about who he was, or that Arcturus wasn't going to withdraw him from the Akadimía had eventually sunk in and now he was restraining himself as best he could.
Regulus wasn't with us at this Akadimía due to his age. Instead, as a Paide (child) he was training elsewhere while Sirius and I trained with the Paidiskoi (adolescents). That was good as he wouldn't have been able to endure this training, but annoying as it made it hard for me to spend any time bonding with him. Yes, Sirius and I were recovering some of the connection we once had, but that was mainly because we were roommates together and not because he actively wanted to become my friend. I was beginning to feel that we would never be great friends, but the less chance there was that we would become adversaries, the better things would go for us in the future.
"Tell me, what sort of training has your father placed you through?"
I looked up at Geride, meeting his eyes as I replied. "My father was killed, along with the rest of my family, when I was seven. I was forced to claim my position as head of my Clan, my household, not long after. Something that many in my country didn't expect to happen, and may well have angered some who dislike traditions." Geride stood there quietly as I spoke, but Ioannis grunted at my comment. "I have, thanks to Lord Black and others, done what I could to prepare myself, but I will admit that my focus has been on my magic not my body."
"My condolences over the grievous losses you have suffered," Geride began slowly even as I saw Ioannis' eyes widen in shock as I'd not gone into detail about my family with anyone here. "I believe I recalled hearing something from the international news about an attack on several families of importance in your nation years ago, though I admit that I do not follow news from your islands in any great detail."
I nodded, accepting that as it was perfectly logical. Not only were the British Isles far from the Free States, but we were a minor power. I suspected that if not for Dumbledore most magicals wouldn't even know we existed.
"That said, at least now I understand why you excel at spellcasting, even if you chose to use that Roman creation instead of a gauntlet." I allowed some pride to show there, as it was true. I was one of the better students during our magical training, even managing to best many of the locals though not Ioannis yet. "If you would be interested, I would be pleased to not only see you return next summer but be willing to allow you pointers on how to train yourself once your time at this Ekpaideftikí Akadimía has ended."
"I would be honoured to learn your wisdom," I said, lowering my head deeply. The offer was one that I suspected was not made often, and I would be a fool to turn it down. Yes, it wasn't going to be an easy training regiment, but nothing worth doing was easy. "Provided nothing changes between now and next summer, I believe I will return," I added as I lifted my head and then glanced at Ioannis. "I have made friends here and enjoyed the training; as difficult an adjustment as it has been."
"And now I see wisdom to go along with potential. An interesting combination." Geride smiled and moved closer. "You come to us from a far different culture, but one that has the shared roots of warriors, and I sense great power within you. Enough, perhaps, that with the right temperament, conviction, and dedication, you can ensure that your nation does not fade in the background once your current greatest warrior heads to meet the Gods."
I bowed again, accepting his praise. As he was a former member of the Guards in the Free States, I didn't believe he was offering false praise, though that had me wondering why he suspected what he did about me. However, I knew better than to probe as such actions only led to punishment while in the Akadimía.
Geride turned and then slammed a large staff he carried onto the ground. Around us, the air vibrated from the action and everyone in the yard quickly stopped at the magical command. "Morning training is completed. Head to the Syssition."
Along with Ioannis and the other students, I lowered my head accepting his command and then began moving towards the Akadimía's cafeteria. As I walked, Sirius moved towards me, and I remembered what had happened on our first day here.
He, along with many of the boys from outside the Free States, had rushed to the Syssition in the hopes of getting the first choice of the meal. Instead of that happening, they were punished by being forced to wait for everyone else to eat before they were served. To make matters worse, their rations that day were lower than the others, as 'if they had the energy to rush for food, then they had not committed fully to their training'. Or that was how Geride had phrased it.
The food was never enough, but this encouraged us to gather food from elsewhere. The trick was that we weren't to purchase it, or even head to our parents or family for it. Instead, working either alone or in teams and without a wand or other magical foci, we had to acquire anything extra we wanted to eat without getting caught. The concept was, from how it was explained to me by Ioannis and the other local boys, to teach a warrior to live off the land and adapt to conditions where their rations might be meagre. It was also a great if unorthodox, team-building exercise as it was nigh-on impossible to gather extra food without the help of others.
If we were caught, be that by the staff at the Akadimía, or by Spartan citizens, then we would be punished. Which was decreased rations the following day along with a whipping that evening. Extremely harsh, and another thing that many of the visitors like myself had complained about, but this was the way the Spartans worked and so I accepted and adapted as best I could.
"What did that old prick want?" Sirius asked once he was closer, keeping his voice low so his words wouldn't carry far on the chance someone would report him for insulting an Instructor. Another punishable offence, as Sirius had discovered on our first day at the Akadimía. Sirius all but refused to use Geride's name or title when he spoke to me, even after I warned him about the dangers of doing so. For not reporting him, I ran the risk of being punished along with him, and if someone did pass along his words so we were both punished, I would be taking it out on Sirius.
"Instructor Geride only wished to offer advice on my training, and success that I return next year," I replied, using the man's title in the faint hope that Sirius might finally break from his pattern before we were punished for it.
Sirius stopped in his tracks for a moment, caught out by my response – I knew he hated this place already – before quickly recovering and returning to my side. "Why would you want that? I mean, I'm enjoying the exercise and the fact we're encouraged to cause mischief, but this place isn't fair or fun."
"Life isn't fair or fun most of the time," I almost hissed back. "Not everyone grew up as privileged as you, with your family there to gently guide you and allow you to make a fool of yourself with your friends." I paused, pushing down the burst of irritation I felt at how he only wanted to have fun. "That is part of the reason I think your grandfather wanted you to come here. Your mother…"
"I hate her!"
"… doesn't like you," I continued, ignoring his outburst as I'd expected it, "and one day your father will become Lord Black. If she has her way, she might seek to remove you from your position as heir." I saw him tense at the suggestion. I wasn't certain how much he desired the title of Lord Black, but it seemed the idea that he might not be allowed it because of his mother wasn't appealing. At least currently. "Look," I continued, placing a hand on his shoulder as we walked at the back of the group moving for the cafeteria, "this isn't the place for us to talk about your family issues, Sirius, and I knew that all the formality and arse-kissing of being a Lord would bore the fuck out of you," he chuckled there, "and that you dislike your family, and by extension me because of how your mother loves to compare us."
"Plus, you're a filthy snake," he added with a friendly grin.
"That as well, and that's fine. Not everyone has a family they love or even a family," I added, drawing on my history to hopefully gain some points with him. "It's because of that as, while I hate to admit it, you are the closest thing to a brother I have left."
I felt Sirius slow at my words, caught out by the admission. Yes, I was manipulating him, or trying to, by saying something like that, but it was in many ways the last roll of the dice by me to see if I could recover my friendship with him. He was bound for Gryffindor just to spite his mother, and as much as I didn't want him near James Potter, it was his choice to make. I just wanted to do what I could so that, at least until our later years and we moved to different factions in the coming war, we remained friends. Perhaps even after we'd made our choices.
"Look," I continued as he caught up again, "we can talk more about this, and other things later. Both while we're here and then in Egypt. For now, while I know you're not enjoying everything about this place, try to learn what you can. If not for family, then for yourself." He nodded, taking in my words. "And for the love of Merlin, learn to think before speaking," I added with a chuckle so that, I hoped, he understood I wasn't scolding him harshly.
"Deal," he said after a few moments of I hoped, careful consideration, "but once we're back home you promise we'll do something fun like flying, or annoying my mother."
"Deal," I agreed with a chuckle.
A moment later we reached the cafeteria and joined the rear of the line. The Instructors there looked at us, but as we had arrived before the first students had sat, we wouldn't miss out on the meal. Another of the strict, and some would say harsh, rules of Sparta training.
I accepted them freely, as this was their land, and looked at Sirius as I let him stand in front of me. I wasn't sure how long we'd remain if not friends, then at least cordial to each other, however, I had to try and make one final push this summer to retain his friendship. Not just for myself and the future that I knew lay ahead of us, but for Arcturus. I was now sure that this training, beyond a chance to evaluate Sirius, he hoped I might rub off on him. The damn mutt was trouble, but much of that was due to his mother and I had to do what I could to help Arcturus ensure his grandson would one day be suitable to carry forth the Black family legacy.
… …
… …
I walked along with Sirius and Regulus following Arcturus as we moved around Memphis the day after arriving here from Sparta. In the end, we'd spent three weeks in the Grecian city with myself, Sirius, and Regulus training with the locals in their Akadimía. Now we were enjoying a more sedate experience in the capital of the magical Egyptian Empire.
The Egyptians didn't call the country that, as it was a name assigned to them by Romans and had dissipated through Europe after the Roman conquests, remaining even after the Empire was reduced to a rump state in Italy and the Byzantine Empire centred around magical Constantinople. To the locals, the land was called Kemet and was fed by Iteru. Those meant, once translated, The Land of Black Earth and The Great River, respectively.
I had already promised Ioannis Siskakos that I would remain in touch with him, as best I could given that we would be at different schools in very distant lands. I'd also said that, so long as things remained as they were, I would return to Sparta next year for more training. The training Geride had suggested to me while at the Akadimía would be what I continued to use once back in Dunscaith and then during my Second Year at Hogwarts.
Sirius was more reluctant to confirm he would be back, but I hoped to persuade him to do so. Not only would it keep him away from his mother, but also outside the clutches of James Potter. However, I would see how things went over the coming school year before deciding if I should talk with Arcturus about Sirius returning to Sparta.
Ioannis might come from an important family, but he wouldn't inherit anything of note. Not without something terrible happening. Still, he and the others I had met at the Akadimía, had the potential to be useful allies for what was coming. Not just dealing with Voldemort and Dumbledore but what provided I survived that war, came after. Even if my wider and more long-term goals never came to fruition, there was no harm in cultivating friendships with people in other nations.
It seemed that Ioannis believed the same, or at least his grandfather did, as I had been gifted a bronze dagger made by some of the finest Spartan smiths – which Ioannis claimed were the best in the Free States. It wasn't made of celestial bronze, as that was reserved for only those from the Free States who were worthy of it, but the dagger was a fine weapon and one I would be using along with the goblin silver dagger I had at home.
The craftsmanship of the bronze dagger seemed to rival that of the goblins, but goblin silver was superior to it. If that were true for Celestial Bronze, however, was something I doubted I'd ever be able to confirm though I was sure both groups would claim their metalwork was better. Not that I intended to suggest otherwise to any Grecian or goblin, especially not those overseeing my accounts.
It seemed that there was bad blood between the Grecians and goblins which resulted in the Free States being one of the few places in Europe that didn't use the creatures to handle their finances. Like in the Isles and elsewhere, wars had broken out between the goblins and the Grecians, yet instead of seemingly letting bygones be bygones, the Grecians had expelled the goblins from their lands. Or that was how the story was told to me by the Greeks. The banking system in Greece was overseen by a clan of dwarves that focused more on money than mining.
Regardless of the exact details, my time in Sparta was over for now, and I could enjoy the wonders of Memphis. As there would be no training on this ten-day holiday here – something Arcturus had sworn to us – I had collected Xenocrates via the Vanishing Cabinet in my lord's chest and brought him here.
Memphis was a marvel of magical engineering and a glimpse into the past. Having been founded in the third millennium BC, the nation had gone through multiple violent conflicts – external and internal – over thousands of years but remained one of the greatest beacons of magic in the world. This city was their oldest, and according to the brochures we'd been given in our hotel suites, was the only remaining place where one could see the lineage of time stretching back to the ancient Sumerian and Mesopotamian magical cultures that had supposedly been the first to harness magic.
That sort of lineage was almost jaw-dropping, particularly when compared to the history of the Isles. Yes, some of the Clans – in particular, Clan Mac Uidhir – claimed to be able to trace their ancestry back four or five thousand years. In Memphis, however, there was proof of that age. Egypt made any nation in Europe, even the Free States which were some of the oldest places in Europe, seem young in comparison. It also, unlike say the LongHua dynasty in China, could claim the continual lineage of each Pharaoh back to the first all those thousands of years ago.
While we were not in the Royal Quarter of the city, as honoured guests our accommodation was in the Noble Quarter of the city. That meant the buildings around were magnificent. They surpassed almost everything I had seen elsewhere, and put to shame the Ministry with such ease that it was like comparing the works of a master architect or painter to those of a toddler.
The buildings were all lined with white limestone, painted in various shades for a multitude of reasons. Much of it wasn't made clear in those brochures, but enough was hinted at that I knew the colours signified more than just the function of each building. The same went for the engraved hieroglyphs that were all over the place. The simplest ones were carved with copper, and other metals, all the way through to platinum was used elsewhere. The more valuable the metal, and the gems encrusted along with them, the more important the building or at least its owner was. Every hieroglyph glowed with power, and they all likely served some sort of purpose. However, I had yet to determine what those were.
I knew very little about hieroglyphs before arriving, and even after devouring what there was in my room last night and this morning, I remained uncertain as to their meanings and more importantly, their purpose. What I did know was that those carved with bronze were general-purpose hieroglyphic arrays that, among other things, regulated the weather and temperature on the streets and in the buildings.
We were walking under the late-morning sun at a time when it should be absolutely boiling with dry heat. However, the air around us was cool, seemingly carrying a faint breeze of the Nile, and ensuring that we weren't struggling with the heat. Or at least we didn't need cooling charms applied to our clothing as we moved. Morgana, Xeno was comfortable as we moved, resting as he was almost around my neck like a scarf.
Xeno was drawing a lot of looks, as he was a cat, and the locals placed significant importance on the species – along with other animals – as they were linked to various members of the Egyptian Pantheon. I was also getting a few looks as, since the locals wore something akin to kilts, I was wearing mine with a sash over my shoulder draped over the ghillie shirt I wore with it. Both the kilt and sash bore the colours of Clan MacLeod, though I wasn't dressed in full formal wear, just enough to signify that I was someone of importance.
"Greetings, noble one."
I paused and turned at the voice, drawn from my thoughts on the city around me, and my almost insatiable curiosity about the way they used hieroglyphics in runic arrays. The speaker was a local, and was dressed in clothing marking him as someone of importance; a priest if I was determining the markings on his tunic and headdress correctly. "Yes?"
"Forgive me for interrupting your passage, but your companion. I sense that Maat blesses him, though I am unfamiliar with his breed."
I lifted my hand and gently stroked Xeno under his jaw. "My familiar, Xenocrates, is a magical feline from the Far East," I explained for the fourth time today. Egyptians revered certain species of animals, as they were linked to members of their pantheon. Cats were one of the more common, being linked to various goddesses including Bast and Maat; the one this man had mentioned who was a primordial goddess from what I'd read on the subject.
The man's brow rose at my words. "Ah, then it seems you have been doubly blessed by the gods with your companion." He moved closer and reached into a pouch at his waist. I tensed, as I saw him pull a small rod, one about half a foot long and engraved with silver, from the pouch. "I mean you no harm," he said as he saw my reaction, "I merely wished to offer a blessing to your companion." He paused and then chuckled. "Ah, forgive me. I am Achoris; a priest of Aman-Ra from the city of Thebes," He continued, lowering his head at the introduction.
"Dòmhnall MacLeod, Chief of Clan MacLeod, from Scotland," I replied, lowering my head a touch lower than he had. I might be a noble, but in Egypt, priests were considered just as important, if not more so, and I was a visitor to these lands.
Achoris smiled at my response and held up the rod in his palm so that I might examine it. Rods were how the Egyptians manipulated magic, and while the hieroglyphs on this one, like almost all of the markings were unknown to me, the fact they were engraved in gold was a sign of the importance that had gone into the creation of the rod.
The Egyptians gained rods either from parental figures – which could include mentors – or more commonly by crafting them personally. They were, at least from the few dozen I'd seen since we'd arrived in Memphis, about the length of a wand, though thicker; around that of two fingers. Rods were, by and large, not as versatile, or easy to use as wands – which was perhaps why the wand had spread across Europe when the Romans conquered most of it – but were capable of more powerful functions with most focusing on the world around us.
To Egyptians, magic was seen as a gift from the Gods, and to channel it, one must work both to pay respect to the Gods – both those worshipped by a family and person and connected to what magic was wished to be wielded – and work in conjunction with nature. To do this, the rods they used were either handed down through generations of families, much in the way the torc had been worn by the MacLeod of MacLeod for generations, or by crafting the rods while praying and channelling magic. The exact details of how the rods were crafted weren't something I had yet to delve into, but I hoped that before we left I might know more about the process. I enjoyed casting with my wand, but the idea of having a rod, or other foci, that I could use to command a specific powerful effect, for example bringing forth a hurricane, held some appeal.
The metals used in the crafting of wands, much like in the crafting of magical hieroglyphics on the buildings around us, also played a role. Most rods were cast from copper or bronze and engraved with silver. The more powerful, and thus rarer rods were made of silver or gold, and the most powerful, and thus those linked to the various members of the Pharoh's family – which was impressively widespread – were said to be crafted from platinum and even rarer metals and alloys. It was also claimed that the magic that powered Memphis, that kept it hidden from the muggle city of Cairo, which was less than a hundred miles away, were a dozen or so rods of pure platinum. These were said to be anywhere from ten to fifty metres long and one to five metres thick.
Those rods, which I had no direct proof existed as I had never seen them, nor had most of the population, but accepted were probable, powered the magics protecting Memphis. They kept the city and a large section of this area of the Nile delta in what was a pocket dimension in all but name. The city and surrounding area were still connected to the physical world, yet a muggle couldn't stumble into it, nor was there a need for the application of muggle-repelling spells to keep them from dirtying up this magnificent city.
"We are guests in this great city of Overseer of State, Tumaini," Arcturus cut in softly with a warning, "and are direct representatives of the Wizengamot of the British Isles, and are here to speak on behalf of Albus Dumbledore."
To the best of my knowledge, we weren't here on Wizengamot business, nor would I expect Dumbledore to ask Lord Black to carry out diplomatic business for him. It would also irk Arcturus to use Dumbledore's name as a potential protective measure.
Achoris seemed either unimpressed by the mention of Dumbledore, or uncaring at the mention of the man who defeated Grindelwald and ended the Wizarding World War. Given how minor a player the Isles were in European politics, never mind those of the ICW, outside of Dumbledore, the priests' lack of concern was hardly a surprise.
"Yes, I am aware of where you come from. The seal you all wear on your clothing is one known to everyone in our glorious nation." There was an air of dismissal and arrogance in Achoris' tone, but given the age and power of Egypt, that was hardly unexpected. I'd seen and heard such behaviour from almost everyone outside the visitor's residence since we'd arrived and even the staff there had acted haughtily. "That you show such concern for your offspring even when under the Overseer's protection in Memphis speaks well of abilities as a parent."
"He's not…" Sirius' words stopped almost as soon as they left his mouth, suggesting Arcturus had gestured at him to cease before he corrected the priest.
"However," Achoris continued, "I would remind you that any animal connected to our Gods is considered protected by the Pharaoh." He paused and gestured to either side and behind us, where I knew two of the Overseer's guards were standing, moving as they had as escort since we left our residence, slightly behind us. "Your guards, who will have been with you since you left wherever it is that you are staying, are another reminder of your protected status, and why most have stayed back even though many are curious about the feline that rests on your son's shoulders." He turned back to me and used his free hand to grasp a medallion he wore. "I swear by Aman-Ra," his fingers held the medallion tighter as he invoked the god's name, "that I present no threat to you or your companion, noble one. I merely wish to offer a blessing to you both; doubly so now that I know he carries what spark of the divine he carries within him."
I chuckled and gently lifted Xeno's head so I could look him in the eyes. "I can save you some trouble there, Priest Achoris," I replied before looking at my familiar. "Xeno, it seems we have someone who wishes to see your power," I said jovially to the raiju. Even though he was my familiar, Xenocrates had that air of nonchalance that all felines had. If he wished to reveal his abilities to the priest, then it would be his choice.
Xeno turned to look at Achoris, who lowered his head in respect. I felt a flicker of amusement at the reaction from the raiju, and his eyes moved to the rod that Achoris rose before us, neither end pointed at us. As the rod glowed, I felt Xeno react to it, and a moment later sparks began dancing along his spine and around his eyes. Some touched my skin, but I didn't react; protected as I was by our bond.
Achoris' eyes widened at the display, and I heard a few gasps from onlookers – many who had stopped while we spoke with the priest – with most copying the priest as he lowered his head. Words slipped from Achoris, but they were too quiet for the translation charm attached to the earring I wore to make out.
I stayed still as he spoke, my eyes noting that more people were stopping and lowering their heads as they saw the lightning dancing around Xeno and by extension me. I assumed those with their heads lowered were offering similar prayers as the priest was, but again I couldn't be certain.
Xeno let the sparks die away and then turned to me, tilting his head in a manner that made clear his pride at the way the locals were reacting to him. "Show off," I muttered good-naturedly, as I scratched him under his chin. Xeno puffed out his chest even as he leaned into my hand and purred loudly.
"You say he is bonded to you?" I looked back at Achoris having missed him raise his head while interacting with Xeno and nodded. "Then you have been blessed by the Gods," he added with a wide smile. "Not only is your familiar one linked to the Great Mother, but he is touched by the essence of the infinite." I frowned, wondering what Achoris meant by that comment, though I had little time to ponder it as he continued. "I would ask that, if you have the time and desire to do so, that you might travel to Thebes." My brow rose there, as I knew that Thebes was a city that no outsider could visit without permission from a senior member of the Pharaoh's court or a high-ranking priest of the clergy, which it seemed Achoris was. "The Temple of the Triad would be honoured to host you both as our guests."
"I'm not sure how long we will be in our great country, nor what activities the Overseer will require us to attend," I began slowly, hedging my words to let the priest down gently. "However, if we have the time, and Overseer Tumaini permits it, then we would be honoured to visit the legendary city of Thebes." I lowered my head as I finished, after giving what I hoped was a diplomatic response.
Internally, I was reminded of the amusing fact that both Egypt and the Greek Free States had a city called Thebes, though where the Egyptian one was considered the spiritual centre of the nation, the Grecian city was a fortress. One that had withstood countless sieges across the millennia, from both internal and external threats, and never fallen. The other major difference was that it was possible to visit the Grecian Thebes with some ease, but the Egyptian one, along with many of their other cities, was restricted to outsiders.
The one city above all in Egypt that I wished to visit was Alexandria. Unlike in the muggle world, the Great Library had never fallen. Instead, it had been, like Memphis, removed from the muggles' ability to interact with it, and remained one of the foremost centres of magical knowledge on the planet. Rivalled only by hidden cities in the domains of the LongHua Dynasty and the Byzantine Empire, the latter of which was responsible for the legendary city of Babylon. Or at least what remained of that ancient city and its wonder.
To visit Alexandria, however, was something of a pipedream. Access to the city required permission from the Pharaoh's Council of Viziers, which was their version of the Ministry and Wizengamot rolled into one. Overseer Tumaini was a senior member of that Council, but even his support wasn't enough to grant us access to Alexandria, never mind the Great Library. For that, we needed the backing of a majority of the Council or the direct permission of the Pharaoh or a member of his close family.
"I will speak with Overseer Tumaini to ensure that you are granted permission, young MacLeod," Achoris said before he turned to Arcturus, "and for your family."
"Lord Arcturus Black, and my grandsons Sirius and Regulus," Arcturus supplied freely, causing one of Achoris' eyebrows to rise.
I felt neither Sirius nor Regulus would be interested in seeing Thebes, and honestly, I wasn't certain if I would be either. However, the chance to see a city generally restricted from the sight of outsiders was one I wouldn't be ignoring. Beyond what I might accidentally learn while there, the bragging rights of such a visit had potential political value. To myself and Arcturus. The only one I felt would enjoy Thebes would be Xeno as something told me he would be spoiled rotten while there.
Achoris nodded, making mental note of the names and the fact there was no direct connection between Arcturus and me. He then turned back to me and lifted his rod, and again whatever he said wasn't translated by my earring. The difference this time was that this time I could hear what he was saying. Perhaps there was something in the design of the earring that prevented prayers from being translated, or Achoris had a way to stop the Translation Charm from working.
His words carried over us, the rod in his hand glowing and I heard others nearby joining in with his words. When he finished, those around us lifted their heads and resumed their business while Achoris offered me a wide, friendly smile. "Until we meet again, know that you go with the blessings of Aman-Ra and Maat. May your time in Kemet be a joyous event, and while I admit that I know little about your country, I will listen for news of your exploits over the coming decades. You have been touched by the Gods, young noble, and I am curious to see what that gift will bring forth."
I smiled back at him and then nodded in thanks. As he walked away, I watched him go, wondering what he meant by me being touched by the Gods. The seemingly random encounter with a priest, and an apparently high-ranking one of the Egyptian theological faction, so soon after arriving in Memphis was odd. I hoped that I hadn't inadvertently stumbled into some local powerplay, as I was often out of my depth in the Isles when it came to politics, never mind in one of the largest and most powerful magical nations on the planet. I had enough issues and developing enemies in the Isles, some known and others not, to worry about without being inadvertently drawn into gaining more elsewhere in the world.
"I thought he was going to kiss Xeno."
I chuckled and shook my head at Sirius' attempt, however weak, to lighten the mood. Xeno did not appreciate the comment and offered a small hiss at the Black boy before settling down on my shoulders again. Those hisses had been semi-common since I'd first gotten Xeno, which had me wondering if he could sense that Sirius' animagus form was that of a canine.
"I do not believe that was ever his intention," Arcturus replied to his grandson, "however, it was a very unexpected and unusual encounter." I looked up at him and he offered me a small nod. "I will speak with Overseer Tumaini this evening, and discover what, if anything, he knows of that priest. Until then, I suggest we resume walking. The Overseer arranged a private viewing of one of the city's most prestigious museums regarding the Ninth Dynasty, and this delay has caused us to fall slightly behind schedule."
With that, Arcturus resumed walking, his pace a touch faster than before. Sirius and Regulus quickly moved after him, but I lingered for a moment. Something about the encounter with Achoris rubbed me the wrong way. Not in the sense that he was a danger to me or Xeno, but in that there was more to it than met the eye. After a shrug, acknowledging that I might not learn the truth for some time, I started walking, moving as quickly as I could to catch up with the Blacks, but not so fast as to disturb Xeno, who many around us were now looking at and whispering about.
Time would eventually tell me what today's encounter had been about, though I hoped that it wasn't anything that increased the threats against me and danger swirling around me. I had enough issues as it was to deal with.
… …
… …
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