Legacy of Evil: American Fables (Patreon)

Its easy to know where the Lakota are found. Getting to them is another thing entirely, as I cross the land on foot with Conan at my side. The old soldier is nervous, some instinct of his making his hackles raise as his eyes flit back and forth beneath the trees. In sharp contrast, I was the very model of calm outwardly. My mind took refuge in the mental habits of Riddle, a fortress empowered with Occlumency and its meditative habits helping me isolate my more emotional bits and pieces that would do me no good now.

I had three days after all. Two and half perhaps, the information from the arm discerned giving me some degree of contemplative thought as I racked my brain and Riddles own, prodigious magical knowledge in terms of what it could be. A giant for instance certainly had strength, but there was nothing of the sort here. The locals would have said as much and giants weren't exactly stealthy. I considered perhaps another wizard, but there would have been some measure of more defensive spells. Something to denote a duel, not the fear almost inherent in the powerful spells flung about by the young, intellectual Slade.

We were stymied and neither Riddle nor myself much enjoyed it. And then I paused, looking around at the forest intently, eyes narrowed. Conan's head swiveled back and forth, nervous as his hand twitched for the weapon I bade him leave back at camp. I wanted to talk to the tribe, not make them feel threatened. Finally, Conan broke the silence.

"Nothing! We've walked round here for hours it feels like!"

"No." I said simply before adding. "It's only been an hour, sun barely moved. We're in the midst of their defenses." As I said that, I was honestly impressed.

Don't get me wrong, the books had always mentioned forget-me-not charms and so on, things that when inflicted would make people believe they had urgent appointments and flee. These felt much more subtle, much more natural. It increased our rate of walking, it incited exhaustion through more intense labor with the forest turned against us. There had to be an anchor somewhere and I flicked my wand wordlessly, sending out an exploratory pulse.

As I did, Conan spoke aloud. "What did you find?"

I grinned in turn, my interest much piqued. "Absolutely nothing." He looked at me as if I was crazy, my eyes lit up in that familiar way to him now.

I had found NOTHING. Not a single trace of magic, nothing large enough to ping on the revelio spell. Which meant an anchor so diffused among the background, it was nigh-invisible. Normal wizards, confronted with a lack of magic would assume that was that and leave. Me? The sheer skill required, the method, everything about it-I wanted to know. I wanted to learn this so bad, to shake the hand of whatever witch or wizard did this.

And as I did, I decided to trust in a hunch. My wand flicked out and I produced two chairs, comfortable ones. Taking a seat, I let out a hefty sigh and smiled, just relaxing as Conan stared at me as if I was crazy. I gestured him to a seat himself, speaking absently.

"Take a seat Conan, please. We're intruders after all. How would you react, if a stranger barged in on the caravan?"

He opened his mouth, paused and suddenly understanding followed. "Ah. We are waiting on them?" I nodded, once and added. "If we've been going in circles, its only been to their benefit-letting them take our measure. If so, we're going to wait politely for them to let us in."

"And if not?" Conan asked, skeptical and I shrug. "Then we leave and try another way to solve this. We of all people, can't fault another for trying to stay out of trouble such as been had."

He nodded, grudgingly and huffed out as he took a seat, wriggled once and then was quiet.

Five minutes passed. Five became thirty, then an hour or five. At this point, Conan had fallen asleep, and I simply sat on the chair-head bowed, like I was playing hide and seek as my fingertips pressed to each other. As I did, I was suddenly aware of another presence and as I looked up, from the shadows of the trees padded a grizzly bear. Heavyset and massive, eyes fixed on me with acute intelligence as I sat up, patient as I looked it in the eye.

Finally, it seemed to have found what it was searching for as it huffed and turned to leave, before looking back and roaring. Conan woke up sputtering and I smiled, rising to my feet as I spoke sardonically. "It seems we've been invited. Hurry Conan, the game is afoot!"

"Now you're just doing that on purpose." Conan grumbled, rubbing his face with a silvery hand before we followed in the bear's wake.

=====

The forest grew thicker around us as night fell. Eventually, the bear went a little faster and we soon came to the following. A wooden palisade and walls, with enough protections upon them to make my mouth water, the urge to meet the genius behind all this coming back to the forefront of my mind as I realized where their power was drawn. Rather than cutting logs and setting them as normal, the tribe appeared to have gone another route entirely, growing the trees into the shape desired and adding what they could. Using the living wood as their medium, they tapped into an entirely different power source, one spread over the entire forest and connected like a synapse of a human brain. No wonder my spell revealed nothing-they had literally hidden the trees within a forest.

Within, the tribe was just like any other group of people. Women, children, life. Smoke from woodfires and from within homes. More people than I expected, and an atmosphere of unease that our presence only seemed to bring into sharp relief. Warriors with weapons, eyes peering at us from the sides with unfriendly looks at the obvious outsiders. Conan frowned, looking back as he spoke in a lower tone my direction.

"All part of your master plan, yes?"

"I don't know, I didn't think I'd get this far." I said frankly and the look of quiet, dawning horror on his face was a memory I'd cherish to my dying day. The grizzly bear huffed in a manner that was almost certainly laughter, leading us to a giant hut as he strode past the curtain door out of sight. Nodding once, I squared my shoulders and spoke.

"I'll lead."

"Oh, by all means!" Conan replied, making a shooing motion as he moved into position at my side. "If they attack, it is you they will be hitting first, yes?"

"Let's hope it won't come to that." I said as I entered the hut.

As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I looked upon the following. There was a radiant warmth in the air, a feeling I could only describe as refreshing as my eyes flicked from wall to wall. Before my eyes, tapestries that Anthropologists would give their right arms to examine would be on display, featuring a history I could only guess at as images of more magical creatures caught my eye from dragons to some massive, winged bird flying ahead of a storm, or perhaps was creating it. Another tapestry featured what looked like a gathering of beasts, led by a spider and a coyote the image itself lost on me, save for the most sweeping generalizations.

Someone was singing, a low, quiet sound of repetition as a leather-clad woman with braided hair ground up herbs upon a workbench, scattered with various baskets, tools and finally, a worn-out copy of the King James version of the Bible. Of the bear, there was no sign of it and as I and Conan waited patiently, finally the woman spoke-an aged, weary voice, laid upon by the years.

"I communed with mine own heart, saying, Lo, I am come to great estate, and have gotten more wisdom than all they that have been before me in Jerusalem: yea, my heart had great experience of wisdom and knowledge." Setting her tools aside, she turned to face us, age having taken its toll upon her though her eyes shone bright with intelligence, piercing me as she flicked her gaze to both of us as she continued and rose up, slowly as she took up a staff leaning against the table.

"And I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to know madness and folly: I perceived that this also is vexation of spirit." She continued, hobbling over to a bench by the fire in the middle of the hut.

I spoke aloud, finishing the verse as I stared into her eyes openly and with curiosity. "For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." Her lip quirked into something of a smile, as she said aloud.

"I dreamed of a serpent with a broken heart and a wolf with a silver limb. Are you a believer, serpent? Wolf?"

Conan looked away, his flesh hand rubbing the side of his arm before he finally spoke gruffly. "It is hard to find faith these days. But if there is a God, he has blessed my family of late and if so, I thank him for that much."

As for me, I shrug and move to gently take a seat across from her, staring over the fire as I remark. "I... I am not averse to the idea. But I try not to think of it. When I die, it shall be the first mystery I investigate, and I shall work it out from there." The idea amused her as she laughed quietly, glancing at the table as she spoke softly.

"I myself, am not. Though they tried to do otherwise, when I was a girl. Our hair was cut, we were locked in buildings and forbidden to speak in the tongue of our mothers and fathers on pain of torture. They told us it was for our own good, that it was just and holy. Despite that, I do not hate them." She chuckled, looking at the hole in the ceiling where the smoke was leaving, where the first stars were beginning to shine as she spoke softly.

"Lord, forgive them. For they know not what they do." Conan shifted uncomfortably, though his eyes were understanding as he looked at her. Myself, my own thoughts were far more shattered, as I felt the weight of old choices fall upon me, shame that had me cast my eyes low at being in the presence of a survivor of the Nazi concentration camps as well as the re-education schools for the native americans. But I put that aside, trying my best to focus on the task at hand. I was not like that. I would never be like that.

"I came to ask you for aid."

"Unusually direct, serpent." Said the shaman blandly as she added. "I half-expected more silver, though perhaps you gave it all to this wolf?"

"We're not here for word games." Growled Conan as he added. "Lives are in danger, my caravan is in trouble. Are you going to help us or not?" The shaman stared in silence, thoughtful before she reached out for a clay kettle set on a stone near the fire. Pouring out two mugs, she handed them over as she stared at us.

"Drink."

Conan sniffed it, his nose wrinkling as his eyes fixed on her with suspicion. I kept my gaze on her, as I asked aloud. "What is this?" I recognized the tell-tale signs of a potion when I saw it and in response, she said somberly.

"The beginning of wisdom and sorrow."

Conan stared at me, uneasy but deferring the choice to me.

Toasting the shaman, I downed the entire thing and Conan grumbled but did the same. The room seemed to melt and grow hazy, warmth filled my chest and as it did, I heard Conan slump over sideways as everything went black.

=====

I opened my eyes with a hiss, my tongue flicking out as I recognized where I was.

The stark, featureless walls. The bleakness that seemed more than skin deep, the beds more fitting for an asylum than this place.

The boy, moving for the corner as he stared at a red-bearded man, glaring and lashing out as a young voice pierced the air. "You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? "Professor", yes, of course – well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!"

I hadn't thought about either of those names in years. I didn't really feel regret, not in the sense that normal people did. I had mentioned earlier for instance how I had felt absolutely no remorse for either Hagrid or Myrtle and that held true even now. Despite that, staring at the boy that Voldemort had been, the meld between us both meant that there was absolutely no distinction to my memories of this time. I was so afraid, so very much afraid and resentful of the world.

I had no control of anything, not my life, not where I'd sleep or when I'd eat. When my magic began to manifest, it felt more freeing than anything else. Addictive and damning, putting me above the lesser beings who couldn't do a thing about it. Despite it, I found myself compelled to speak aloud, hindsight loosening my tongue as I spoke.

"That's a lie. We're better than that."

He turned to look at me, acknowledging my presence for the first time, ignoring the frozen visage of Dumbledore as he sneered. "We ARE better. Look at them! They breed like rats, they scurry for the meanest forms of power, they kill each other in the streets for pence. Their lives matter as much as those of ants. Dennis and Amy served a greater cause, a greater good and few can claim that in life or death."

"Stupid, clever brat." I hissed, feeling myself rise as my serpentine body circled him, matching his glare with reptilian patience. "There are many paths to wisdom and greatness. With our minds, we could have done anything, been anyone. Do you know what my problem is with you?" I snarled and struck-jaws wide, clamping onto his throat as he yelled with pain, my temper rising as I screamed.

"YOU WENT FOR THE EASIEST ROAD!"

He yelled back, our voices synchronizing as the world shattered and we fell together.

Darkness swirled around me, my thoughts jumbled as I thought back to my outburst. The easiest road I called it, and it was something I had often considered in quiet times, when my mind became too loud.

Instead of understanding, I had went for decimation. Instead of building, I had turned to destruction. I had enflamed the worse of men's passions, stepped upon my fellow men and justified it as they were not me. I had made myself the very center of my universe and in doing so, had destroyed lives, minds and more. There was a reason I didn't want to return to England, face-to-face with the horrors there. The shame... I ...

I was still that frightened boy in the corner. Even now, running away because I could. And as I thought of that, I felt a sudden warmth around me as I opened my eyes.

I was laying on a sleeping mat. My body had been stripped down, as I was sweating profusely and despite it, I felt... More light I suppose was the better description. The shaman, a cold rag in hand had been helping me and Conan, who also seemed to be groaning as he woke up before the shaman spoke softly.

"In the west, the Serpent is a creature of deception. Lies. But we know better, for Brother Snake is a being of wisdom, whose position allows him to hear Mother Earth and her secrets best, so he may better share with the rest of his family her words." She smiled at my expression, softly quoting.

"And the Lord said unto Moses, Make thee a fiery serpent, and set it upon a standard: and it shall come to pass, that every one that is bitten, when he seeth it, shall live. And Moses made a serpent of brass, and set it upon the standard: and it came to pass, that if a serpent had bitten any man, when he looked unto the serpent of brass, he lived."

"My head... It is... Strange. Quiet." Conan rumbled, confused as he added. ".... I also smell something cooking. Is it dinner already?" I sniffed, but smelled nothing but the hut and its contents as the shaman smiled and spoke.

"And so, you both walk the beginning of wisdom. Now it is time to learn of our enemy." She rose to her feet. "You will join us for our evening meal. And after, when the fire is high and the time is right?"

Her eyes gleamed in the smoldering embers, faint gleams of red as ancient rage seemed to cascade off her aura as she spoke quietly.

"You shall be the first outsiders in a long, long time to hear the story of what our cousins call the Naagloshii."