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Harry Potter and the Shattered Ring Chapter 3 (The Lands Between)
🕑 Added 2024-10-25 13:48:18 +0000 UTCThe ring on his finger still felt warm, almost alive. Harry closed his eyes, remembering Melina's instructions about calling her. The words came to him naturally, flowing from his lips in an ancient tongue that felt both foreign and familiar: "Melina, vaynus mortem." Even as he spoke them, he knew they meant "Melina, come here," though he couldn't have translated them word for word.
Blue lights danced through his room like fireflies, swirling and condensing into Melina's ethereal form. "You called for me, Chosen Tarnished?"
"Okay, look," Harry said interrupting her, feeling a little annoyed, "I've already got enough titles I didn't ask for. The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One - can you just call me Harry? Please?"
A small smile tugged at Melina's lips. "As you wish... Harry." She glanced around the room, her single eye taking in the frost still melting on his window. "Something has happened."
"You could say that," Harry said, pacing across his small room. "I was just attacked by something straight out of a nightmare. But that's not even the strangest part. After you left last night, I fell asleep and ended up somewhere... else."
Melina's head tilted slightly. "I don't understand. Where did you go?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out!" Harry's voice rose slightly before he remembered to keep it down - the last thing he needed was Uncle Vernon barging in. "I woke up in this place with a golden sky and ruins everywhere. Found this tiny golden tree, touched it, and then these massive fingers appeared and started interrogating me. And then tonight, this thing in a hood tried to kill me with some kind of red blade."
The change in Melina's expression was immediate and dramatic. Her visible eye widened, and she took a step forward. "You appeared in the Realm of Shadow? That... that should not be possible."
"Yeah, well, impossible things tend to happen around me," Harry muttered. "What exactly is the Realm of Shadow?"
"It is a space between worlds," Melina said carefully, as if choosing each word with precision. "A place where echoes of great powers still linger. The golden tree you saw was an echo of the Erdtree itself."
"Right, the tree you mentioned before." Harry stopped pacing and faced her. "But why was I there? How did I get there?"
"That is what concerns me," Melina's brow furrowed. "The bridge between our worlds was meant to be narrow, controlled. Your ability to traverse it unconsciously suggests the boundaries are far more permeable than I had anticipated."
"Brilliant," Harry sat on his bed. "And I suppose that's why I had a visitor trying to ventilate me with a glowing red knife?"
"A Black Knife Assassin," Melina's voice carried a note of genuine worry. "They are agents of powers that should not be able to reach this world. Their presence here is... troubling."
"Troubling?" Harry let out a hollow laugh. "I'd say it's a bit more than troubling. What did it want with me?"
"They serve forces that oppose the natural order," Melina explained. "The grace within you likely drew its attention."
"The grace that you still haven't properly explained," Harry pointed out. "Look, I appreciate the mysterious mentor thing, but I've had enough of people keeping important information from me 'for my own good.' If I'm in danger, I need to know why."
Melina was quiet for a moment, studying him with her single eye. "You are right," she finally said. "You deserve to understand. The grace is a divine power, one that marks those chosen to maintain the balance between worlds. The ring I gave you helps channel it, but the power was already within you."
"Of course it was," Harry flopped back onto his bed. "Because apparently being the Boy Who Lived wasn't special enough. Had to be chosen by another world too."
To his surprise, Melina let out a small laugh. "Your attitude towards your destiny is... refreshing."
"Well, between dark lords, prophecies, and now interdimensional assassins, you either learn to laugh or go mad." Harry sat up again. "Though the jury's still out on which way I'm heading."
"Perhaps that is why you were chosen," Melina said softly. "Your ability to face darkness with light in your heart... it gives me purpose."
Harry frowned at her tone. "What do you mean by that? Purpose?"
"It is... complicated," Melina turned slightly away. "We should focus on your training. The assassin's appearance proves we have little time."
"No, hang on," Harry stood up. "What did you mean about purpose?"
"I exist to guide, to help maintain the balance," Melina said, her voice distant. "Teaching you to defend yourself and your world... it is all I have."
"That's not right," Harry said firmly. "Nobody exists just to help someone else. That's not-"
"We should begin," Melina cut him off gently but firmly. "The night grows short, and you must learn to better channel the grace within you. The assassin will return, and next time, you must be ready."
Harry wanted to argue, to demand more answers, but he recognized the finality in her tone. Besides, she had a point - he needed to learn to defend himself. But he made a mental note to return to this conversation later.
"Fine. But we're not done talking about this. Nobody should exist just to help someone else. That's not right."
"Your concern is... touching," Melina said, with a hint of surprise in her voice.
"Fine," he sighed, holding up his hand to look at the ring. "Where do we start?"
"Grab my hand." she instructed him, and he did so after a moment of hesitation.
The moment Melina's hand touched his, Harry felt a peculiar warmth spread through his fingers. Her skin was unexpectedly soft, almost like silk, and there was a gentle pulse of energy where they connected. Before he could process the sensation, brilliant white light engulfed his vision.
When he blinked his eyes open, the confines of his small bedroom had vanished. They stood in a vast field of grass that swayed in a gentle breeze, but it was what loomed in the distance that stole his breath away.
Rising beyond the castle was a tree—no, not just a tree. A colossal, radiant monolith of pure golden light, so immense that it seemed to stretch into the heavens themselves. Its sprawling branches spread across the sky, forming a divine canopy that bathed the entire landscape in a soft, otherworldly glow. Each branch pulsed with a gentle, life-giving warmth, like the heartbeat of the universe itself. And as Harry stared, something in his chest stirred—a deep pull, as if the tree was calling to him, resonating with something buried in his very soul. It was like hearing a song from his past that he'd long forgotten, only to remember every note at once.
"What is that?" Harry whispered, unable to take his eyes off the magnificent sight.
"The Erdtree," Melina said softly, her voice carrying a note of reverence. "The physical manifestation of the Golden Order, a bridge between the divine and mortal realms. It nourishes this land with its grace, sustaining all life in the Lands Between."
"It's... beautiful," Harry managed, still mesmerized. "I can feel it, somehow. Like it's... singing?"
Melina nodded. "The Erdtree speaks to those who bear its grace. In the age before the Shattering, its light guided all who dwelt in these lands. The Two Fingers served as its interpreters, conveying the will of the Greater Will to mortals."
"Two Fingers?" Harry frowned, remembering his strange dream. "I saw something like that, but... there were three fingers, not two. They appeared after I touched a smaller version of this tree."
Melina's expression grew troubled. "The Three Fingers represent... a different power. One that seeks to undo the current order. That you encountered them is concerning."
"There's a lot of that going around lately," Harry said dryly. "So what exactly happened here? This place feels... broken somehow."
Melina's eye grew distant. "Long ago, this realm was governed by the Elden Ring, a manifestation of order itself. It was shattered in an event known as the Shattering, when Queen Marika's children warred among themselves for power. Each claimed a shard of the ring, becoming Shardbearers, and their conflict nearly destroyed these lands."
"And now?"
"Now the realm languishes without true order. The ring must be rebuilt, but the Shardbearers cling to their fragments, and corruption spreads." She turned to look at him directly. "The weakening barriers between our worlds may be a result of this prolonged chaos."
Harry ran a hand through his hair. "So your outer gods might be influencing someone from my world because of this chaos. That's... great."
"The connection between worlds has always existed, but the Shattering has made it unstable. Dark powers find it easier to extend their influence across these weakened boundaries."
"Right," Harry looked back at the Erdtree. "And I'm involved because...?"
"Because you bear grace," Melina stepped closer, her presence somehow comforting. "You have the potential to help restore balance, not just in your world, but in the spaces between worlds."
"No pressure then," Harry muttered, but couldn't help smiling slightly. "You know, compared to this, dealing with Voldemort almost seems straightforward."
To his surprise, Melina laughed softly. "I don't think I have ever met someone like you, Harry You seemed used to things changing suddenly."
"Well, I've had practice with world-changing revelations. First magic, then being a wizard, then being the Boy Who Lived... finding out I'm connected to a giant glowing tree in another dimension is just Tuesday, really."
Melina's eye crinkled with genuine amusement. "You are... not what I expected."
"Get that a lot," Harry shrugged, then grew serious. "But if what you're saying is true, if the outer gods might be influencing someone from my world... I need to understand everything I can about this world." Harry said, and wondered if it was possible that it was Voldemort who was influenced, it wouldn't really be a surprise, and Dumbledore had told him that the man was still alive somehow, maybe the outer gods played a role in his survival, or maybe his survival had nothing to do with it, whatever the case, Harry knew he needed to learn about this strange place.
"And I will teach you," Melina said. "But knowledge alone is not enough. You must learn to channel the grace within you, to defend yourself against forces from both worlds."
"Like our knife-wielding friend from earlier?"
"The Black Knife Assassins are but one of many threats. The Lands Between hold countless dangers, and as the boundaries weaken, more may find their way to your world."
Harry sighed dramatically. "Wonderful. More things trying to kill me. Just what I needed."
"You face these dangers with remarkable spirit," Melina observed.
"Like I said, you either laugh or go mad." Harry turned to face her fully. "But I meant what I said earlier - about you existing just to help others. That's not right."
Melina went very still. "Harry..."
"No, listen," he pressed on. "I know what it's like to have your whole life defined by what others expect from you, what they need you to be. It's not living, not really."
"My purpose-"
"Is whatever you want it to be," Harry said firmly. "Yes, I probably need your help to understand all this, but that doesn't mean that's all you are."
Melina was quiet for a long moment, her single eye studying him intently. "You are... kind," she finally said, her voice soft. "Kinder than most who have borne grace before you."
"Not kind," Harry shook his head. "Just someone who knows what it's like to be treated as a means to an end."
The golden light from the Erdtree seemed to soften, casting them in a gentle glow. For a moment, Harry thought he saw something vulnerable in Melina's expression, but it passed quickly.
"We should begin your training," she said, but her voice was warmer than before. "There is much you need to learn."
Harry nodded, but gave her a small smile. "We'll come back to this conversation, you know."
"Perhaps," Melina said, and for the first time, there was a hint of hope in her voice. "But for now, let us focus on keeping you alive long enough to have it."
"...So," Harry said, looking at his hands, "how exactly am I supposed to use this grace? Just... think golden thoughts and hope for the best?"
Melina's lip quirked slightly. "Not quite. Grace must be channeled through a catalyst to form spells and incantations of the Golden Order."
"Would my wand work?" Harry asked, pulling out his holly and phoenix feather wand. "It's already made to channel magic."
"I would strongly advise against it," Melina said, her tone serious. "Your wand was crafted to channel a different form of magic. Forcing it to conduct grace could have... unfortunate consequences."
"Like what?"
"At best, the spell would fail. At worst, the conflicting energies could shatter your wand completely."
Harry quickly pocketed his wand. "Right, definitely don't want that. So where do I get one of these catalysts?"
"They are called Sacred Seals," Melina corrected gently. "And for now, you must learn to feel the grace within you before we concern ourselves with channeling it."
"Sacred Seals, Golden Order spells," Harry rolled his eyes. "You lot really love your fancy names, don't you?"
A small smile graced Melina's features. "Says the wielder of a 'wand' who attends a school called 'Hogwarts.'"
"...Fair point," Harry conceded with a laugh. "So how do I start?"
"Close your eyes," Melina instructed. "Focus on the same feeling you had when you called for me. The words came to you in the ancient tongue, did they not?"
"Yeah, it was weird. I knew what they meant, but I'd never heard them before."
"That was grace speaking through you. Try to reach for that same power now."
Harry closed his eyes, trying to remember the sensation. He felt a bit foolish standing there in the grasy field, but he'd looked sillier in Flitwick's class. "What am I supposed to be feeling for?"
"The warmth within," Melina's voice came soft and patient. "Like sunlight in your blood."
Harry concentrated, searching for anything that felt like what she described. Minutes passed in silence.
"This isn't working," he sighed after a while.
"You are trying too hard," Melina observed. "Grace is not like your magic - it cannot be forced or commanded. It must be invited."
"Invited," Harry muttered. "Right. Because that's not vague at all."
"Perhaps a different approach," Melina stepped closer. "When you cast spells with your wand, what does it feel like?"
Harry thought about it. "Like... like there's energy flowing through me, down my arm and into the wand."
"Good. Now instead of pushing that energy out, try to let it pool in your palm. Let it gather naturally, like water filling a cup."
Harry nodded and tried again. This time, he imagined his magic collecting in his hand instead of rushing toward his wand. Nothing happened for several long minutes.
"This is hopeless," he groaned after his tenth attempt.
"You are still trying to control it," Melina said. "Think of how the Erdtree's light feels. It does not force itself upon the world - it simply is."
Harry remembered the warm, singing sensation he'd felt from the small golden tree. He tried to replicate that feeling, letting go of his attempts to direct the energy and instead simply... accepting it.
More time passed. Harry lost track of how long he'd been standing there, but Melina remained patient, occasionally offering quiet guidance.
Then, just as his arm was starting to get tired from being held out, he felt something. A warmth in his palm, different from his usual magic. It felt older somehow, more... fundamental.
"I think..." he started to say, but Melina shushed him gently.
"Don't break your concentration. Let it come."
The warmth grew stronger, and Harry felt words forming in his mind, in that same ancient language he'd used before. He didn't speak them, just held them in his thoughts, letting them shape the energy gathering in his hand.
Suddenly, his palm lit up with a soft golden glow. Harry's eyes snapped open in surprise, and he stared at the small sphere of light hovering just above his skin.
"I did it!" he exclaimed, then promptly lost concentration and the light winked out. "Oh, come on!"
Melina was smiling, genuine pride in her expression. "Well done, Harry. That was excellent for a first attempt."
"But I lost it," he said, disappointed.
"Of course you did. Maintaining grace requires practice and focus. But you managed to call it forth - that alone is significant progress."
Harry flexed his fingers, still feeling traces of the warmth. "It felt... different from normal magic. More like..."
"Like what?"
"Like coming home," he said softly, surprised by his own words. "Is that normal?"
"Grace responds differently to each bearer," Melina explained. "But yes, many describe it as feeling familiar, even the first time they channel it."
"Right," Harry nodded, then held out his hand again. "Let me try once more."
"Are you certain? Channeling grace can be taxing at first."
"I'm fine," Harry insisted. "Besides, I doubt those assassins are going to wait until I'm well-rested to try killing me again."
"A fair point," Melina conceded. "Very well. Remember - don't force it. Let the grace come to you."
Harry closed his eyes again, finding it easier this time to reach for that warm, golden sensation. The ancient words came more readily now, and soon his palm was glowing once more.
"Good," Melina said softly. "Now hold it. Feel how the grace moves through you."
Harry concentrated on maintaining the light, noticing how it seemed to pulse in rhythm with his heartbeat. "It's... alive, almost."
"Grace is life itself, in its purest form. The power that binds reality together."
"No pressure then," Harry muttered, but managed to keep the light steady. "What can I actually do with this?"
"In time, you will learn to shape it into various forms. Protective barriers, healing light, weapons of sacred power. But first, you must master the basic act of channeling it."
The light flickered and died as Harry's concentration wavered again. He lowered his arm, suddenly aware of how tired he felt. "I think... I might need a break."
"You've done very well," Melina assured him. "Learning to channel grace is not easy, especially for one already trained in a different form of magic. You've made remarkable progress for your first lesson."
"Thanks," Harry said, then yawned. "Sorry, I just feel..."
"Drained?" Melina supplied. "That's to be expected. We should return you to your world - you need rest."
"Will I be able to do this there? Channel grace, I mean?"
"Grace exists in all worlds," Melina said. "Though it may feel different in your realm, you will be able to call upon it wherever you are."
She held out her hand, and Harry took it, noting again how warm her touch felt. The grassy field began to fade around them.
"Next time," he said quickly, before they transported back, "you'll teach me something I can actually use against those assassins?"
Melina's eye crinkled with amusement. "Yes, Harry. Next time we'll begin work on actual incantations. Assuming you can stay awake long enough."
"I managed to stay awake through Professor Binns' classes," Harry grinned. "I think I can handle it." But then he remembered something, he pulled his hand away, and looked around the strange place.
"Before we go back," Harry said, looking around the field, "where exactly are we? This doesn't look like anywhere I've seen in Britain - magical or otherwise."
"We are in Limgrave, the southern region of the Lands Between. More specifically, this is the northern part of Limgrave," Melina gestured toward the imposing castle in the distance. "That is Stormveil Castle, current domain of Godrick the Grafted, one of the Shardbearers I mentioned."
Harry's brow furrowed at the title. "The Grafted? That's an odd name." He recalled something from his Herbology lessons. "In plants, grafting is when you take parts of different plants and combine them to make a stronger one. Professor Sprout showed us how some magical plants can only survive by grafting parts from other species."
A shadow passed over Melina's face. "The principle is... similar, though far more grotesque. Godrick, in his desperate pursuit of power, takes the limbs and body parts of fallen Tarnished warriors and grafts them onto himself."
Harry felt his stomach turn. "He... what? You mean he actually..." He trailed off, looking slightly green.
"Yes," Melina confirmed grimly. "He believes collecting the strength of others will make him worthy of his heritage. He's said to have dozens of arms and various other... additions."
"That's sick," Harry said, genuinely revolted. "And he's one of the people holding a piece of the Elden Ring?"
"Indeed. His Great Rune, a fragment of the Elden Ring, sustains his twisted existence. Without it, his grafted body would likely collapse under its own weight."
"Brilliant," Harry muttered. "So not only do we have mad dark lords in my world, but yours has people who collect body parts like some deranged stamp collector."
"The Shattering drove many to extremes in their quest for power," Melina said softly. "Godrick is perhaps one of the more... visible examples, but he is far from the only one who lost their way."
Harry shook his head. "And I thought Voldemort was bad. At least he just kills people - he doesn't... collect them." He paused, then added, "Though I probably shouldn't give him any ideas."
"The parallels between our worlds' troubles are not coincidental," Melina noted. "Corruption often takes similar forms, regardless of its origin."
"Still," Harry said, casting another glance at Stormveil Castle, "remind me to stay far away from that place. I'd rather not become part of someone's... collection."
"You need not worry about that yet," Melina assured him. "Godrick rarely leaves his castle these days, and you are not ready to face such dangers."
"Yet?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Planning on having me face him eventually?"
"That will be your choice to make," Melina said carefully. "But if you truly wish to understand the connection between our worlds and stop its corruption from spreading to yours, confronting the Shardbearers may become necessary."
"Wonderful," Harry sighed. "Add 'fight the many-armed madman' to my to-do list, right after 'survive assassination attempts' and 'defeat Voldemort.'"
"Well, not all shardbearers are mad with power, some of them want a better world, and think that having their own shard of the Elden Ring will help them to make this world a better place," Melina said with a distant look.
"Speaking of mad, are all the Shardbearers this... creative with their power?"
"Each found their own way to cope with the burden of their Great Runes," Melina said diplomatically. "Though some methods were more... extreme than others."
"That's not reassuring at all," Harry noted dryly. "Any other lovely characters I should know about?"
"Perhaps we should save those stories for another time," Melina suggested, noting Harry's fatigue. "You've learned much today, and channeling grace for the first time has tired you."
"Fine," Harry conceded, feeling another yawn coming on. "But next time, I want to hear about all the other cheerful individuals I might have to deal with. Best to know what I'm getting into, even if it gives me nightmares."
"Rest assured, Harry," Melina said, reaching for his hand to transport them back, "Godrick's proclivities are uniquely his own. Though that's not to say the others are any less dangerous."
"Of course they're not," Harry muttered as he took her hand. "Because that would be too easy, wouldn't it?"
The last thing he saw before the white light engulfed them was Stormveil Castle looming in the distance, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd be seeing it again, whether he wanted to or not.
The last thing he heard before the white light enveloped them was Melina's soft laugh, and he decided he rather liked the sound of it.
