An Uneventful Quidditch Match (drarry) (COMPLETED)

chapter seventeen

There is a story called "Ecliptic." It is one of a kind, one copy of it exists (used to exist; it is gone now) in a small, yellow, and faded book. It is the story of five siblings, related not by blood but by a magic that will soon course through them.

The first sibling, who used to go by Hallia but now goes by and will forever go by Lady Hope, was eccentric; a woman who's interests surrounded entertainment and her sadistic tendancies. She created games (though not as fun as the name may make then out to be) about psychological-- and otherwise-- torture. A violent game of truth or dare; a dog fight with all participants on steroids; "put a finger down if" but if you lose you lose the hand completely.

She is not a good person. She does not try to be.

Landon "Lord Life" London is unlike she; they are a pudgy child with hair long enough to braid. They adore mushrooms, befriend the dead and dying, and value the collective living as they value themselves.

They cherish a dog, a best friend named Talyn, and love; a source of good in the world that warms those around them like soup.

They do not like to play games. Not like Hallia, not when she makes and breaks the rules just because. But Hallia has never game a damn about what others think and she is not about to start now.

London arrives home to the cottage they reside in to find it empty. They had shared the cottage with Talyn-- because they had built the cottage with Talyn-- and to find them not at home?

It was not a good sign. London calls out thickly, worry tracing their tone, "Talyn? Talyn, are you in here?"

Talyn is not.

They open the bedroom door and, instead of finding their friend, finds a reason to give a heart wrenching scream. (So scream they do.)

Their dog, Mr. Muffins, is left mutilated in the ground. Blood pools on the floor and London is emptying their stomach before they know it-- not only for the sight, but for the smell. It smelled like rot, like decay, like blood (like death.)

And then a sudden rush of wind (magic) washes over them, giving them clarity. It is like an entire other person is there by their side; a calming hand on their shoulder.

Which might prove to be more than just a feeling-- a peice of paper appears out of thin air, held up by what seems to be an invisible person... or, perhaps, something less. A breath of fresh air; the pride before the fall. (Nothing.)

London takes the peice of paper-- realizing their hands were trembling in the process-- and reads the words off in their head. Then says the words aloud-- the sentences resting heavy on their tongue. It is in hopes to change the sentence... but the words remain; as damning as before.

"You are not special: you have not been chosen by anything but chance, but you have been chosen.

It is time to play.

I have your Talyn. If you do not want another Mr. Muffins, report to the following date and location.

Say, how many bones do you think a human can live without? Let's see.

- HH."

They have some time before they go-- if they go, because London is not quite prepared to die. And to visit this "HH"? It is death as sure as death can be. But before that decision is to be made, London hauls Mr. Muffins into the backyard. They grab a shovel and without further ado, begin digging. They are muttering prayers and chants all the while; expressing their love for Mr. Muffins even now that his corpse is before them. (They are respectful of the dead and dying-- however much Muffins is of the latter.)