Through Darkness and Light

Chapter 18

The Meeting of Zirak

Elessar descended into the cave, Harry behind her. The dim light from his wand outlined the narrow passage and the cold air seeped through Harry's clothes. There was a something strange about this place; something he couldn't put his finger on. Why had the unicorns come here?

Outside the forest floor was frozen, but in here the moisture clung to the ground and stalactites. His steps echoed on the rocks, vibrating off the cave's walls. If there was anyone in here, Harry already ruined the element of surprise.

Elessar glanced behind her, eyes narrowed.

"I'm not being that loud."

"It is not you."

"Oh." Well, how was he supposed to know that?

"Something is disturbing the fëa, I cannot sense anything clearly. Be on guard, Harry. I wish to see you safely through this night." Elessar waved her hand and a light appeared, growing until it was the size of his fist.

He followed her again, small steps on the uneven ground. A part of him didn't what to know what was going on. The darkness hid many shadows - most of which were meant to stay hidden.

How did he get into these situations? Maybe he should take Hermione's advice for once and stay out of trouble. But this wasn't his fault. At least, not this time.

Harry ducked underneath a jagged ledge, using his hands to remain balanced against the rocks. "What is it?" he asked when Elessar stopped and glanced around her.

A small unicorn lay on the ground, his head curled towards his body. Blood poured from a gash in his side, the edges red and blistered. A dark, purple light emitted from the wound, causing it to spread further over his body.

Harry's stomach jerked and he pressed a hand against it. This couldn't be Star Dancer, it just couldn't.

Elessar crouched, her seeing light floating overhead. She shoved her braid aside and touched the unicorn's forehead. For a brief moment he glimpsed her eyes before she turned back to her task. Neither human nor elf - none of that mattered. Elessar could save him.

Harry knelt beside Elessar, his hand sliding into a liquid pool he hadn't seen. His eyes fixed on the silver blood, trailing down his fingers towards his palm. Not now, he couldn't let fear rule him now. "Can you, can you save him?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "I can."

Relief flooded Harry. At least tonight he wouldn't see another unicorn die.

Time pressed around them, the purple light that sizzled on Star Dancer's wound flared. Elessar closed her eyes and clasped the unicorn's head. "I am Anvanime, do not lose hope. The shadow does not hold all."

Power thrummed in her voice, the words echoed off the rock walls. The shadows lessened and he felt an answering beat within his heart.

"It is not your time to sleep. Follow the star to revive your soul." Her star necklace blazed and Harry squinted, briefly blinded. The intensity ripped through the darkness, even as the unicorn's light faded.

Elessar's shoulders sagged and her hands dropped away from the unicorn's head. The light faded and blinked out.

"Are you...?" he began, but something hit him in the stomach and he doubled over. Fingers clawed at him, reaching for the very core of his being. His vision blurred and the ground beneath his feet quaked.

Harry's his knees hit the rocks with a sharp crack and he cried out. Streams of colors shattered and strands splintered into thousands of pieces. He tried to fight the current, to hold onto the physical world. Black strands grabbed his ankles pulling him downwards.

A black tide rushed towards him. There were faces in the darkness, eyeless gazes that sucked all the spirit strands they touched. The faces turned and saw him, and cruel smiles spread across their hollow mouths.

He fell into the void, away from the world he knew as the wave descended on him. A hand grabbed his shoulder. It became his anchor, even as the faces grabbed his legs, pulling him.

A blue light pervaded the spirit world drawing the darkness away from Harry. Malice swarmed and tendrils extended towards the blue light.

The faces grinned. "Where are you young one? I have waited so long."

"A Elbereth Gilthoniel o menel palan-diriel, le nallon sí di-nguruthos! A tiro nin, Fanuilos!" The light ripped through the center of the darkness and a white one joined the blue. They both formed an arc surrounding Harry.

The faces screeched and lashed back against the two lights. The hate and fury was so thick it suffocated Harry, closing him off from precious air even as the lights pushed back the darkness.

Harry was thrown back into the physical world and sucked in a mouthful of air. His heart beat madly against his chest and he lay there on the rock floor. He opened and closed his eyes, trying desperately to regain focus.

He needed to get out of there. It would come for him again. This wasn't Voldemort; that darkness was something else entirely.

"Harry?"

Hands gripped his shoulders and he fought back. He wouldn't let them get him.

"Harry! Hear me, you must be still." Warmth swept through him, pushing away his fear. Elessar stood over him, gripping the wall for support. "Are you all right?"

He nodded, unsure if he could trust his voice to work.

"Thank Vala."

Harry clutched his head, praying the spinning would stop. "What was that?" he croaked and tried to clear his throat.

"It was darkness, a consciousness that exists in the spirit world."

"I've never felt anything like that before. Not even Voldemort made me feel that way."

"Voldemort is mortal. There is nothing he could do, no power that he could acquire, to compare him with this shadow." Elessar let go of the wall and checked Star Dancer.

Thankfully the bleeding had stopped and whatever spell that caused the wound to worsen. The light from his horn was faint, but steady. "It was Zirak wasn't it?"

Elessar did not look at him, her attention concentrated on the unicorn. "As I said, it was darkness; an entity that has lost all connection to this world."

"You're not going to tell me are you?"

"You are safe; that is all that matters."

But was that really the truth? Was he safe? That darkness had seen him. Did it wonder why Harry was with Elessar and the unicorn, curious what a mortal boy would have to do with the others?

Even now he still saw those faces. For Harry wished that he had remained ignorant, concealed within its safety rather than facing the truth. It felt as if the walls closed in about him, slowly compressing the space where he sat.

It would be fine, just as long as Elessar was with him; he'd be safe. What he needed now was a distraction. "Will Star Dancer live?"

"I can do nothing else for him, not until we leave this place."

Harry stood up, his legs wobbling under his weight. He took out his handkerchief and wiped the blood off Star's face. At least he tried too anyway. The saturated cloth only succeeded in smearing the blood further rather than removing it.

Elessar held her forehead. Fear rushed through him at being alone in this place; he needed her there with him. "Professor?"

"I am weary, nothing more." Something passed in Elessar's eyes, too quick for Harry to catch.

He felt exhausted, like he'd just run a mile. But it was more than that. His spirit felt weak, striving for energy and a chance to recuperate. The warmth and security of Hogwarts flashed through his mind and he grabbed onto that thought. It would be a source of strength, the hope that kept him going.

"So, how are we going to get him back to Hogwarts?"

Elessar smiled, though why she smiled at all Harry had no clue. "I shall need your help."

* * * *

In the shadows Sirius felt a sense of relief wash over him as he watched Elessar and Harry leave the cave.

Silver blood clung to both of them, the moon's light causing it shine. A young unicorn levitated in the air with Harry behind, his wand outstretched. Streaks of smudged silver ran across Harry's face and his hair stood out at odd angles. Even from this distance, Sirius could see how exhausted Harry was, as if each step was a challenge.

But at least he's alive.

He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. From the way it seemed Harry had a knack for trouble, just like his father.

* * * *

Leagues away, across land and sea, in the western reaches of Japan, the demon lord paced in his study. Sesshomaru's long platinum hair brushed the back of his knees and his hands were buried in the deep folds of his white haori.

In the seclusion of his rooms he allowed his normal cool, indifferent mask to fall. He growled when he glanced at the papers lying on his oak desk. More useless reports, just like the demons that brought them.

For the past few weeks, since the incident on Halloween night, the wizards had swarmed him, demanding answers for the killings. "As if this Sesshomaru owed them anything."

Hanging on the wall in a protective glass was an old battered sword, the leather hilt fraying and the blade dented. For a moment he paused in front of the Tetusaiga, given to him by his half-brother, Inuyasha, as he died.

Sesshomaru's hand brushed against the hilt of his swords, the Tenseiga's and Toukijin. Their weight brought him comfort in this modern world.

Once again Sesshomaru wondered if Inuyasha realized the consequences of Naraku's actions, the murder of Japan's wizard emperor and leaving Inuyasha to take the blame. Inuyasha may have been a fool, but he did not deserve the condemnation for Naraku's treachery and the hatred of the demon world for the war that had ensued.

He glared at the old sword as if it was the cause of his current problems. All it would take was one swing by his brother's hand to destroy a hundred wizards. Now it was nothing more than an antique, a useless sword that rejected Sesshomaru.

This was no longer the feudal era where he could simply kill any who opposed him. Despite what those human reporters believed, the last thing demons wanted was another war. Their numbers, regardless of their strength, would not survive.

And the one thing Sesshomaru refused was to die by a human's hand.

Yet, this led to his current dilemma. A war was about to start, again instigated by another. The wizard governments were already in the process of changing laws, further restricting the freedom of demons.

Sesshomaru slammed his hand into a nearby chair. Pieces of wood flew in the air and the chair crumpled to the ground.

No matter how many trusted spies he sent to Europe, they all came back empty handed. He and the other lords were no fools. They knew that those demons who turned were not acting on their own accord.

It was the slight magic on the wind, a light caress that hinted at deeper meanings. Each of the lords had felt a pull in their demon blood. The need to kill, to be free of the yoke humans had placed on them, those urges beat steadily within the magic. This was not a rebellion against wizards, but something else entirely.

Why did this magic feel familiar? No matter how many times he delved in to the past, Sesshomaru couldn't place it. The other lords did not agree, but he cared less what they thought. They did not have the strength nor patience to sense the root of this foreign aura.

He retrieved the only report that held any semblance of evidence from the stack and scanned it again. A demon, who had been in the area of the wizarding town Hogsmeade at the time of the incident, claimed to have felt some power engulf his senses. His demon blood had fought against him, demanding to fight against the threat.

Sesshomaru tossed the paper back onto his table.

The word of a lesser demon was little better than that of a wizard's. However, he would not disregard the witness out of hand as the other lords had done. But who had enough power to force demons to lose control of their blood and then leave no trail?

His face fell back into his typical bored expression, smoothing out the anger to simmer beneath the surface. It appeared that he would have to revert to more resourceful means.

Sesshomaru turned to summon his retainer Jaken when he felt a prickling of magic at the edge of his senses. He froze and lifted his nose as he tried to catch the scent.

He knew this magic, in fact had been sensing it for the past few hundred years. It was always faint, just a feeling, nothing more than a brush that faded after a moment.

His eyes narrowed. This time was different. The magic felt stronger and almost tasted the dormant power.

The pieces clicked into place. This power was the same that he felt on Halloween, the one that had driven the lesser demons to their blood. That was why it had seemed familiar to him; he'd been sensing for it hundreds of years. What was it and why now had it finally awakened?

A voice drifted on the air current. "My general."

Sesshomaru raised his head and spoke in a deep, commanding tone, "Who are you?"

Silence answered him. Light from the morning sun peeked out from the fringes of his dark blue curtains. The faint trace of the voice's magic hung in the air, a feeling that settled on Sesshomaru's shoulders.

He didn't move, his body tense as he waited. From the corner of his eye he saw the sunlight fade as if suddenly blocked by a passing cloud. Sesshomaru breathed in icy air and his eyes narrowed, the only sign that he was surprised over the sudden temperature change.

The voice laughed. "I am known as Zirak; your master."

Sesshomaru growled, the strength of it vibrating his study. No one would speak in such a way to him.

Frost crept underneath his door, spreading out along the floor heading towards him. Icicles formed on the branching arms of his hanging lamps. Sesshomaru placed a calm hand on Toukijin but did not retreat. "I bow to none."

"But do you not want power? To be freed from the binds of worthless humans?"

The lights in the room extinguished with a loud pop. A blast of power hit Sesshomaru head on. Never in his long life had he felt malice such as this, the very essence of it steeped in magic from the ancient world, long since thought to have been lost to time.

Sesshomaru sliced through the magic using Toukijin's own dark aura. His silver hair streamed behind him, a stark contrast against the darkness.

The voice laughed, resonating about the room. "I am the darkness, General."

Shadowed vines crept down Toukijin's blade toward his hand and the sword's dimmed. Sesshomaru tossed the sword aside before the dark magic engulfed him. He would rip this intruder to shreds, daring to impede on his home and think to call him servant.

A red gleam surrounded his body, pushing back the magic. The golden hue of his eyes bled crimson and his pupils changed to violet pinpricks. The crescent moon on his forehead, the symbol of his family's status, blazed with power.

"The Vala will tremble at your might."

The red around Sesshomaru brightened as his fury mounted.

"You wish to be free of me? You are the darkness. Your kind was created to serve."

Sesshomaru gripped the edge of his desk as the voice called to his blood. The stripes on his cheeks turned jagged and his claws lengthened, digging further into the desk as he transformed into his true demon form.

The Tensiega pulsed against him, its aura seeping through the dark power.

The voice's laugh faltered for a moment as Sesshomaru drew Tenseiga, the only sword which held power over the dead.

"You will be mine just as your ancestors stood beside Morgoth."

"You will die by this Sesshomaru's hands!" He cut through the darkness with Tenseiga just as his demon aura shot upwards, breaking through the magic barrier. The sleeves of his haori and his hair sprawled above. Shock waves slammed into the room, straining against the walls for freedom.

"None can destroy me, not even her," the voice said before it faded.

Sesshomaru stood in his silent study and sparks of his power fizzled in the air. Scrolls and books lay scattered on the floor.

The red from his eyes was gone and his facial markings had returned to their normal shapes. Underneath his calm composure, his demon self demanded the blood of the one who dared to defy him.

There was none alive, demon or wizard, more powerful than him. Yet, that voice had been strong enough to begin his transformation.

How many other demons had fallen to their blood this day, slaughtering hundreds of humans? If he, Lord Sesshomaru, felt the pull of this being's power how many other demons had been lost?

His eyes narrowed.

This power was ancient magic and there was none left from that era, last felt during his grandfather's time. All except one.