Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Death's Child
Chapter 4 : Death's Elven Blade master
The Death Elves. A child of a elf mother and vampire father, the mother is not embraced as a vampire until after the birth. Most common with prisoners of war. As the vampires and the drow appear to be in constant wars of dominance for the same resources, Drow Death Elves are the most common of this hybrid breed.
- A journal attributed to Rowena Ravenclaw
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She watched the energy around her, to her cursed eyes even the youngest goblin decayed and grew strong again only to cycle through again. If even the vampires appear to decay to her... What then these mortal though long lived creatures. Sighing she looked around. Being a Death Elf female, made her an outcast both among the vampires of her father and the dark elves of her mother's house.. As soon as she was old enough to leave home. She travelled the Underdark and found the Goblins of London a decade ago.
She heard of a human mage demanding a trial by arena. This attracted alot of attention and she came to see the fight as well, curious if there was a human mage that could be good in a nonmagical duel. Suddenly the energy around her changed. There entered someone who stood real to her cursed eyes, even his cloak did not decay. And now she knew what had no fear of goblins. Young he may be in human years, probably just entering Hogwarts or a second year, and yet he was beyond the Wizards and Mages... A Master of Death...
Harry entered the arena following the goblin sorcerer. A tall dark skinned elf walked up to Harry. "Death Lord, if you will allow I will hold your cloak and stone.", she said in the tongue of the dark elves.
Harry blinked, "A drow female, here?... how interesting." Harry removed his cloak speaking in the an language none could recognize. He then removed the chain with the blood stone. Handing both to the odd drow female, Harry then followed the sorcerer into the battle circle.
#
Faced with the goblin warrior who believed himself the owner of the treasures of Harry's bloodline. Harry relaxed his hold on his internal magic.
BlackScar drew his blade and moved forward to strike at the child who thought himself a warrior. The goblin's aim was true, he struck at the chest. The speed of a goblin warrior against a human. BlackScar was sure the battle was won.
Against any human, BlackScar was correct, against a English Wizard especially. But this was Harry Potter, the Chosen, the Touched by Death. It was a goblin at speed, and it was not enough. Harry saw the motion and allowed his body to move, as the dagger came for his heart, suddenly there was no heart to strike. There was a suddenly crack as BlackScar's arm snapped, leaving his blade laying on the floor as his arm hung useless at his side.
BlackScar screamed in pain and grabbing the poisoned dagger behind his back with his off hand jumped in rage at Harry.
Harry moved to the side and drew the silver dagger that bore his blood from the test earlier. With a flicker of speed Harry sped forward and BlackScar's throat grew a silver handle.
Harry's blood is not the blood of other wizards, without magic words, without ritual... BlackScar the Betrayer lost his life and his soul. Ancient magick, forgotten in the libraries of Houses long dead. A betrayal claimed before Magic's sight. Into the vessel of silver did life force and soul flow as flesh become stone. Only then did Harry reach out his hand and from the new statue reclaim his blooded silver dagger.
#
The clan of the DeathBird, the clan of BlackScar saw their most powerful and respected member die by magic, although no spell was cast. They did not wait, they did not think. They attacked, forty warriors of blade and blood jumped into the sand and behind them a sorcerer floated down. Landing the sorcerer cast his feeding fireball at the human that killed BlackScar.
Her name was, Jhaelvyll Arabate, she was a death elf, fathered by a vampire to a living highborn drow prisoner. Hated by both sides of her blood, feared by all who know what she is. She had held the Cloak and the Blood Stone. She saw the magic and life flows. Her very blood sang for the Stone was the mark of her father's death, his lifeblood. Her magic sang for she held a Cloak of Death and knew what it was, who alone in all of existence could gift it. Jhaelvyll had watched the fight. What seemed to fast to even Goblins took forever in her cursed sight. She watched the death and the soul claimed, now she saw betrayal doubled as the sorcerer released his fireball. Releasing the Cloak and the Stone to fall she blurred as she jumped in front of the Death Lord. She screamed as the fire stuck and burned through cloth and armor to eat flesh.
#
Harry felt the Cloak float over to him and wrap around his shoulders, then he saw the drow appear before him only to be struck down, taking the fireball meant for him. He caught the lithe female form and looked down at her wound, he saw the magic of the cursed fire fighting with the dark elf's own magic. He was watching her die.
The goblins froze then the cursed fire struck. They grew wary as they saw the cloak form around the boy of its own power, marking it a artifact of great power.
Harry lifted his eyes, they blazed emerald green, the color of the death spell. The All Seeing Eye mark glowing gold and silver, impossible to miss. Harry felt his hot anger slide under the weight of his power and freeze. He opened his mouth and vibrated a name unspoken for many a generation.
#
Behind Harry a human sized glowing silver ankh appeared. From within the silver glow, a hard rock guitar riff is heard. A male voice recognizable as James Potter is heard signing a deep bass.
'Carry on my Son - It will all be dust when you are done'
A female voice carries out of the glow, recognizable as Lily Evans Potter, a soprano strong and high.
'You walk not alone, my beloved son - Death is behind you - Death is beside you - Death is before you'
James's voice carries out.
'Carry on my Son - It will all be dust when you are done'
Lily's voice counters.
'She is of your blood - She is of your magic - You walk not alone'
James's voice comes out again deep and heavy.
'Carry on my Son - It will all be dust when you are done'
A new female voice sang out as a form appears in the light.
'I am Death - No Wealth, No Silver, No Gold - I am Death - called by my brother dear - called by my knight - My name is Death.'
Lily's and James's voices harmonized.
'Carry on My Son - The End is Here'.
Their voices faded as the light disappeared. The light left a glowing silver ankh hanging from the neck of a most pale human female any have ever seen. Eyes burning emerald matching those of the boy they betrayed, the All Seeing Eye, dark purple lips, pale hands tipped with dark purple nails. Any mundane would call her the poster child for Goth... Yet the goblins knew who this was... Their magic disallowing any deception. Death had come in person to the Justice Arenas.
DeeDee walked up to Harry and knelt at his side, "What is it Harry?"
Harry looked at his oldest friend. "She is meant to live so long. Yet for me, she took a fireball to the belly. Now, she will die, centuries too soon. There must something that can be done. Knowing nothing of me but what her eyes can see. True loyalty did she give to me."
DeeDee smiled down at the young death elf dying in Harry's lap, "What do you say Jhaelvyll. Will you come with me now or stay and serve Harry the rest of your days? Of all the mortals you have the choice to leave now or later."
Jhaelvyll opened her eyes and looked at the female kneeling over her, "I know you Mistress, my blood sings even as it flows away. If I must chose allow me to stay at the Master's side... For if he can call thee and have you answer... Then no mere mage is he. Let me be his as long as he has need of me. As he needs of me."
DeeDee closed her eyes and sighed, "So be it. Harry claim her by your blood as a vampire does. But know this, she is your bodyguard and even Hogwarts can not change that."
Harry looked into the elven eyes in his lap and finding true desire to remain rather then move on, pressed his wrist to Jhaelvyll's lips, he closed his eyes as the death elf sank her fangs into his wrist and feed.
The blood burned through her, she felt the pain fade and strength return. Flesh heal and blood restore. But most of all she saw with new eyes, for the blood of Harry Potter changed her eyes, what where once blood red, became emerald green, those cursed eyes that once saw only the decay of power and time. Now saw life, death and power in a much more useful form. Even so this change was only noticed by DeeDee now. A much more noticeable and for the goblins worrisome change, was watching the white hair of a drow darken to a flowing blood red. Jhaelvyll stopped feeding and kissed the wrist of her Master. There was no way to deny it, Death herself told her that this path lead to be claimed, and yet there was joy and freedom in this. Rising to her feet Jhaelvyll quickly sank to her knees and looked that the true immortals before her.
DeeDee clapped her hands, "All better then. Now before I go, remember you are his weapon and his shield, his eyes and his hands, his ears and his voice." She then stood up and looking around smirked then strumming an air guitar faded away.
Harry rose to his feet and with eyes and mark still aglow looked around. That was enough for those who betrayed, they acted, while the child-lord was low on blood and the vampire too high on blood to be a danger. And so they made another mistake.
As the attack moved forward by instinct Jhaelvyll held out her hand to Harry, "Master".
Harry took the hand and began to move. He danced a death dance. The same art of motion that had killed BlackScar and others before him. So built into Harry by repetition was this act that he never noticed as he drew Jhaelvyll before him, it was not a humanoid that flowed around him but a blood red whip sword. Holding a sword few had mastered the creation of and fewer still the mastery of battle, Harry Potter, danced and in his dance goblins fell. The barest cut of his blood blade drew death as she the sentient sword feed on their souls.
One goblin fell dead missing a hand. Then suddenly Harry was before the sorcerer that cast eating flames, with no time for the magic specialist to react, Jhaelvyll was around his neck and the sorcerer was no more. Harry slide into a squat like stance and suddenly the whip spun around at what was once head level. Of the forty members of the Death Bird Clan, three still stood, masters of the goblin halberd, they had stayed out of range, now they stood alone.
Harry stood up, he held Jhaelvyll's hilt in a reverse grip, allowing the rest of her chain sword body coil around his feet. "Leave your weapons and go, of all your clans warriors you remain. Let the betrayal be paid by the blood already feed to the sands", spoke Harry in the older form of the Horde Tongue, formal and official.
As the three remaining goblins thought about Harry's offer, Jhaelvyll was aware in her weapon form, she marveled at the the power the flowed through her. First the Blood of Harry Potter that had feed her, then his magick as he held and wield her. Finally the goblins that had died at her edge, some by cuts that should never of been fatal to a magical being, she felt their souls feed her and empower her. Deep within she knew, her life had changed, she was claimed, always a danger for one like herself, but she was claimed by one so far beyond mortal understanding that his very touch made her a soul drinker, a legend of the drow and vampire.
The goblins attacked with their halberds, moving as one they struck from three directions. Against the whip sword their action should be more then enough.
Yet Harry moved quickly. He slide the hand holding Jhaelvyll's hilt back while running a magic infused hand on the links of the blade. Jhaelvyll felt the change, suddenly what was once a whip sword now stood firm a full bastard sword in Harry's hands. Suddenly Harry moved forward at full inhuman speed, that insane speed that allowed him to kill a master vampire allowed him to simply not be where the halberds were, and the blood sword sank into the belly of one of the attackers, claiming life and soul.
The still standing goblins looked behind themselves and froze. In freezing they died for Harry grew tired of playing this game. Drawing his Jhaelvyll out of the dead goblin and spun, taking the heads off before releasing Jhaelvyll.
#
Harry stepped forward his hands down at his sides, palms out facing the leaders of the horde and asked in the ritual wording, "Are there any other who by deed or word betrayed the trust of the House Potter... Or may I and my Blade leave the sands, my honor satisfied?"
Behind Harry, as she fell Jhaelvyll reformed into her elven form, she seemed to just appear kneeling, where Harry had released her hilt. The visual that would most disturb a nonGoblin is all the blood flowing in the arena sands seemed to be drawn to her and disappear under her knees. As she knelt a silver cloak like Harry's appeared around her and the young death elf bowed her head.
#
Lord Gringotts himself stood up. "Lord Potter, you faced the arena following our own rules and won. Then a clan betrayed the Clans of the Horde and without being asked or calling on the Horde, you enacted Justice as goblins would. When the half vampire, defended you, by taking the Demon Flame, shielding you with her own body. You could have called all of Gringotts in forfeit, instead you showed that you were growing weary of mortal limits, and called for The End." Lord Gringotts closed his eyes and bowed his head, as did all the goblins in the arena zone. After a few moments, the Lord of all the Horde continued, "At your request the End, she who shall be Last, showed you how to rise the half vampire to your service." He paused then spoke again, "If that was not enough, you showed that your blood is the legendary blood of the Fey-born. We the goblin nation, the Horde, welcome you as the Clan-Lord of the House you have vanquished. We name you Elghinnz'hins, Lord of Death Bird, what would you have us do with the bodies of the dead, with their children and the females of the lost clan?"
Harry blinked for a moment then answered, "Give me a few moments to remember my options, so that all may in honor be dealt".
The Master of the Goblin Horde nodded his head and sat down. Much would be decided dependent of this young lord's answer, it was honorable to allow him some time to think and perhaps call on those who knew more then he.
Harry turned and walked over to the vampire elf girl. He squatted down and spoke softly, "Jhaelvyll? Do you have any idea how I should answer?"
Jhaelvyll lifted her eyes and smiled, "Master, you have three major choices, have them killed to feed the horde just as these betrayers will, enslave them either to yourself or to another goblin who does have your trust, or finally acknowledge them as a cadet clan under your headship. Food, Slaves or Family, these are the goblin options." Jhaelvyll grinned, "Oh course, at your power level you can ignore goblin law and do what you will... Their lives are yours, as are these dead bodies on the sands."
Harry sighed, "That is what I thought thanks, if I speak with the matron of the clan, will the rest follow?" The death elf thought for a moment and then nodded.
Harry turned and walked toward Lord Gringotts, "I require the presence of the Matron of Death Bird. As for these already in the sands, let the betrayer feed the Horde. So I have Spoken."
Lord Gringotts grinned and nodded, "So it is spoken, so it is done." Quickly he sent a young goblin page to get the Matron, while sending warriors to collect the dead goblins. "Come sit with me while we wait for the Matron of your clan Elghinnz'hins."
Harry nodded and fixing his cloak climbed out of the arena over the wall as a goblin would rather then move to the gate like a man. Behind him Jhaelvyll flowed to her feet and followed, always within easy reach, though she did not believe her skills would be needed anymore among the goblins.
Harry sat with Lord Gringotts and was soon joined by Lord Gold and Lord Silver. Many a goblin watched this child-lord who sat as an equal with the ruling clan of the Horde. Soon a old female goblin bent with age walked toward them encircled in younger female goblins who while green and brown skinned look more elfin then the males. As the old matron moved toward the table, Jhaelvyll appeared standing in front of Harry, her body a shield for her master.
The old matron stopped and waited, Lord Gold introduced her to Harry, the old goblin matron bowed deeply as did the females with her, "As the Clan Master decided how our clan ends?"
Harry spoke softly, replying in the common tongue of the goblins, "Grandmother, give me the most skilled daughter of the clan to guide my accounts, on your honor tell me that our gold will grow and our vaults will fill with platinum. Do this and I give you my word, every daughter of Clan Death Bird will be a daughter of Potter and all houses which call me Lord. Every youngling of a daughter of Death Bird will be a youngling of my House. Can you in Honor tell me so?"
The old goblin cried silent tears, of all the endings that the stupidity of her sons could have caused, this is the best possible. Even goblins know of the House Potter, goblins knew where the Potter Blood came and each house to join. By having Clan Death Bird be the goblin clan of Potter, her family will be royal, her daughter will be able to openly love the suitor that has been visiting. Only a mating bond with the direct line of Gringotts, Gold or Silver would give equal status. She quietly replied, "Young Master, honors us so. I will find the daughter of the clan who is most skilled in the work of the bank. Your will be done... Call your house elf so we can bind with blood our bond and know who will be your agent among us, as I know you will not always be able to come in person."
Jhaelvyll giggled softly and spoke aloud, "My dear matron, my Master has no need for a house elf. I am his to command, his action, find your daughter or join your own blood to mine. But know this, his blood flows in me, I will feed into dust, any who dare betray the Master of Death Bird."
The goblin females took a step back as the matron whispered "Jhaelvyll Arabate". They knew now that any hint of betrayal will be dealt with harshly if the Master's mercy is not invoked. For the first time knowing fear.
Harry spoke softly vibrating his words making them seem to roll around in the heads of those who hear him, "Matron be warned, you speak to my seneschal, the one so bound to me that she acts in my place."
The matron called one of the other females to hold out the blood bowl, she then cut her palm and allowed the blood to flow into the bowl. Jhaelvyll cut her own palm and let her blood flow into the bowel. Harry stood up and walked over to the young goblin female holding the bowl, he drew the dagger with which he killed the first betrayer BlackScar and cut his own palm, "So it is done by word and by blood." The blood in the bowl boiled until all that was left was a crismon metal ingot.
After a bit more conversation between the females of Death Bird, the Lords of Gringotts and Harry, Harry and Jhaelvyll left the bank to shop the alley.
The Death Elves. A child of a elf mother and vampire father, the mother is not embraced as a vampire until after the birth. Most common with prisoners of war. As the vampires and the drow appear to be in constant wars of dominance for the same resources, Drow Death Elves are the most common of this hybrid breed.
- A journal attributed to Rowena Ravenclaw
#
She watched the energy around her, to her cursed eyes even the youngest goblin decayed and grew strong again only to cycle through again. If even the vampires appear to decay to her... What then these mortal though long lived creatures. Sighing she looked around. Being a Death Elf female, made her an outcast both among the vampires of her father and the dark elves of her mother's house.. As soon as she was old enough to leave home. She travelled the Underdark and found the Goblins of London a decade ago.
She heard of a human mage demanding a trial by arena. This attracted alot of attention and she came to see the fight as well, curious if there was a human mage that could be good in a nonmagical duel. Suddenly the energy around her changed. There entered someone who stood real to her cursed eyes, even his cloak did not decay. And now she knew what had no fear of goblins. Young he may be in human years, probably just entering Hogwarts or a second year, and yet he was beyond the Wizards and Mages... A Master of Death...
Harry entered the arena following the goblin sorcerer. A tall dark skinned elf walked up to Harry. "Death Lord, if you will allow I will hold your cloak and stone.", she said in the tongue of the dark elves.
Harry blinked, "A drow female, here?... how interesting." Harry removed his cloak speaking in the an language none could recognize. He then removed the chain with the blood stone. Handing both to the odd drow female, Harry then followed the sorcerer into the battle circle.
#
Faced with the goblin warrior who believed himself the owner of the treasures of Harry's bloodline. Harry relaxed his hold on his internal magic.
BlackScar drew his blade and moved forward to strike at the child who thought himself a warrior. The goblin's aim was true, he struck at the chest. The speed of a goblin warrior against a human. BlackScar was sure the battle was won.
Against any human, BlackScar was correct, against a English Wizard especially. But this was Harry Potter, the Chosen, the Touched by Death. It was a goblin at speed, and it was not enough. Harry saw the motion and allowed his body to move, as the dagger came for his heart, suddenly there was no heart to strike. There was a suddenly crack as BlackScar's arm snapped, leaving his blade laying on the floor as his arm hung useless at his side.
BlackScar screamed in pain and grabbing the poisoned dagger behind his back with his off hand jumped in rage at Harry.
Harry moved to the side and drew the silver dagger that bore his blood from the test earlier. With a flicker of speed Harry sped forward and BlackScar's throat grew a silver handle.
Harry's blood is not the blood of other wizards, without magic words, without ritual... BlackScar the Betrayer lost his life and his soul. Ancient magick, forgotten in the libraries of Houses long dead. A betrayal claimed before Magic's sight. Into the vessel of silver did life force and soul flow as flesh become stone. Only then did Harry reach out his hand and from the new statue reclaim his blooded silver dagger.
#
The clan of the DeathBird, the clan of BlackScar saw their most powerful and respected member die by magic, although no spell was cast. They did not wait, they did not think. They attacked, forty warriors of blade and blood jumped into the sand and behind them a sorcerer floated down. Landing the sorcerer cast his feeding fireball at the human that killed BlackScar.
Her name was, Jhaelvyll Arabate, she was a death elf, fathered by a vampire to a living highborn drow prisoner. Hated by both sides of her blood, feared by all who know what she is. She had held the Cloak and the Blood Stone. She saw the magic and life flows. Her very blood sang for the Stone was the mark of her father's death, his lifeblood. Her magic sang for she held a Cloak of Death and knew what it was, who alone in all of existence could gift it. Jhaelvyll had watched the fight. What seemed to fast to even Goblins took forever in her cursed sight. She watched the death and the soul claimed, now she saw betrayal doubled as the sorcerer released his fireball. Releasing the Cloak and the Stone to fall she blurred as she jumped in front of the Death Lord. She screamed as the fire stuck and burned through cloth and armor to eat flesh.
#
Harry felt the Cloak float over to him and wrap around his shoulders, then he saw the drow appear before him only to be struck down, taking the fireball meant for him. He caught the lithe female form and looked down at her wound, he saw the magic of the cursed fire fighting with the dark elf's own magic. He was watching her die.
The goblins froze then the cursed fire struck. They grew wary as they saw the cloak form around the boy of its own power, marking it a artifact of great power.
Harry lifted his eyes, they blazed emerald green, the color of the death spell. The All Seeing Eye mark glowing gold and silver, impossible to miss. Harry felt his hot anger slide under the weight of his power and freeze. He opened his mouth and vibrated a name unspoken for many a generation.
#
Behind Harry a human sized glowing silver ankh appeared. From within the silver glow, a hard rock guitar riff is heard. A male voice recognizable as James Potter is heard signing a deep bass.
'Carry on my Son - It will all be dust when you are done'
A female voice carries out of the glow, recognizable as Lily Evans Potter, a soprano strong and high.
'You walk not alone, my beloved son - Death is behind you - Death is beside you - Death is before you'
James's voice carries out.
'Carry on my Son - It will all be dust when you are done'
Lily's voice counters.
'She is of your blood - She is of your magic - You walk not alone'
James's voice comes out again deep and heavy.
'Carry on my Son - It will all be dust when you are done'
A new female voice sang out as a form appears in the light.
'I am Death - No Wealth, No Silver, No Gold - I am Death - called by my brother dear - called by my knight - My name is Death.'
Lily's and James's voices harmonized.
'Carry on My Son - The End is Here'.
Their voices faded as the light disappeared. The light left a glowing silver ankh hanging from the neck of a most pale human female any have ever seen. Eyes burning emerald matching those of the boy they betrayed, the All Seeing Eye, dark purple lips, pale hands tipped with dark purple nails. Any mundane would call her the poster child for Goth... Yet the goblins knew who this was... Their magic disallowing any deception. Death had come in person to the Justice Arenas.
DeeDee walked up to Harry and knelt at his side, "What is it Harry?"
Harry looked at his oldest friend. "She is meant to live so long. Yet for me, she took a fireball to the belly. Now, she will die, centuries too soon. There must something that can be done. Knowing nothing of me but what her eyes can see. True loyalty did she give to me."
DeeDee smiled down at the young death elf dying in Harry's lap, "What do you say Jhaelvyll. Will you come with me now or stay and serve Harry the rest of your days? Of all the mortals you have the choice to leave now or later."
Jhaelvyll opened her eyes and looked at the female kneeling over her, "I know you Mistress, my blood sings even as it flows away. If I must chose allow me to stay at the Master's side... For if he can call thee and have you answer... Then no mere mage is he. Let me be his as long as he has need of me. As he needs of me."
DeeDee closed her eyes and sighed, "So be it. Harry claim her by your blood as a vampire does. But know this, she is your bodyguard and even Hogwarts can not change that."
Harry looked into the elven eyes in his lap and finding true desire to remain rather then move on, pressed his wrist to Jhaelvyll's lips, he closed his eyes as the death elf sank her fangs into his wrist and feed.
The blood burned through her, she felt the pain fade and strength return. Flesh heal and blood restore. But most of all she saw with new eyes, for the blood of Harry Potter changed her eyes, what where once blood red, became emerald green, those cursed eyes that once saw only the decay of power and time. Now saw life, death and power in a much more useful form. Even so this change was only noticed by DeeDee now. A much more noticeable and for the goblins worrisome change, was watching the white hair of a drow darken to a flowing blood red. Jhaelvyll stopped feeding and kissed the wrist of her Master. There was no way to deny it, Death herself told her that this path lead to be claimed, and yet there was joy and freedom in this. Rising to her feet Jhaelvyll quickly sank to her knees and looked that the true immortals before her.
DeeDee clapped her hands, "All better then. Now before I go, remember you are his weapon and his shield, his eyes and his hands, his ears and his voice." She then stood up and looking around smirked then strumming an air guitar faded away.
Harry rose to his feet and with eyes and mark still aglow looked around. That was enough for those who betrayed, they acted, while the child-lord was low on blood and the vampire too high on blood to be a danger. And so they made another mistake.
As the attack moved forward by instinct Jhaelvyll held out her hand to Harry, "Master".
Harry took the hand and began to move. He danced a death dance. The same art of motion that had killed BlackScar and others before him. So built into Harry by repetition was this act that he never noticed as he drew Jhaelvyll before him, it was not a humanoid that flowed around him but a blood red whip sword. Holding a sword few had mastered the creation of and fewer still the mastery of battle, Harry Potter, danced and in his dance goblins fell. The barest cut of his blood blade drew death as she the sentient sword feed on their souls.
One goblin fell dead missing a hand. Then suddenly Harry was before the sorcerer that cast eating flames, with no time for the magic specialist to react, Jhaelvyll was around his neck and the sorcerer was no more. Harry slide into a squat like stance and suddenly the whip spun around at what was once head level. Of the forty members of the Death Bird Clan, three still stood, masters of the goblin halberd, they had stayed out of range, now they stood alone.
Harry stood up, he held Jhaelvyll's hilt in a reverse grip, allowing the rest of her chain sword body coil around his feet. "Leave your weapons and go, of all your clans warriors you remain. Let the betrayal be paid by the blood already feed to the sands", spoke Harry in the older form of the Horde Tongue, formal and official.
As the three remaining goblins thought about Harry's offer, Jhaelvyll was aware in her weapon form, she marveled at the the power the flowed through her. First the Blood of Harry Potter that had feed her, then his magick as he held and wield her. Finally the goblins that had died at her edge, some by cuts that should never of been fatal to a magical being, she felt their souls feed her and empower her. Deep within she knew, her life had changed, she was claimed, always a danger for one like herself, but she was claimed by one so far beyond mortal understanding that his very touch made her a soul drinker, a legend of the drow and vampire.
The goblins attacked with their halberds, moving as one they struck from three directions. Against the whip sword their action should be more then enough.
Yet Harry moved quickly. He slide the hand holding Jhaelvyll's hilt back while running a magic infused hand on the links of the blade. Jhaelvyll felt the change, suddenly what was once a whip sword now stood firm a full bastard sword in Harry's hands. Suddenly Harry moved forward at full inhuman speed, that insane speed that allowed him to kill a master vampire allowed him to simply not be where the halberds were, and the blood sword sank into the belly of one of the attackers, claiming life and soul.
The still standing goblins looked behind themselves and froze. In freezing they died for Harry grew tired of playing this game. Drawing his Jhaelvyll out of the dead goblin and spun, taking the heads off before releasing Jhaelvyll.
#
Harry stepped forward his hands down at his sides, palms out facing the leaders of the horde and asked in the ritual wording, "Are there any other who by deed or word betrayed the trust of the House Potter... Or may I and my Blade leave the sands, my honor satisfied?"
Behind Harry, as she fell Jhaelvyll reformed into her elven form, she seemed to just appear kneeling, where Harry had released her hilt. The visual that would most disturb a nonGoblin is all the blood flowing in the arena sands seemed to be drawn to her and disappear under her knees. As she knelt a silver cloak like Harry's appeared around her and the young death elf bowed her head.
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Lord Gringotts himself stood up. "Lord Potter, you faced the arena following our own rules and won. Then a clan betrayed the Clans of the Horde and without being asked or calling on the Horde, you enacted Justice as goblins would. When the half vampire, defended you, by taking the Demon Flame, shielding you with her own body. You could have called all of Gringotts in forfeit, instead you showed that you were growing weary of mortal limits, and called for The End." Lord Gringotts closed his eyes and bowed his head, as did all the goblins in the arena zone. After a few moments, the Lord of all the Horde continued, "At your request the End, she who shall be Last, showed you how to rise the half vampire to your service." He paused then spoke again, "If that was not enough, you showed that your blood is the legendary blood of the Fey-born. We the goblin nation, the Horde, welcome you as the Clan-Lord of the House you have vanquished. We name you Elghinnz'hins, Lord of Death Bird, what would you have us do with the bodies of the dead, with their children and the females of the lost clan?"
Harry blinked for a moment then answered, "Give me a few moments to remember my options, so that all may in honor be dealt".
The Master of the Goblin Horde nodded his head and sat down. Much would be decided dependent of this young lord's answer, it was honorable to allow him some time to think and perhaps call on those who knew more then he.
Harry turned and walked over to the vampire elf girl. He squatted down and spoke softly, "Jhaelvyll? Do you have any idea how I should answer?"
Jhaelvyll lifted her eyes and smiled, "Master, you have three major choices, have them killed to feed the horde just as these betrayers will, enslave them either to yourself or to another goblin who does have your trust, or finally acknowledge them as a cadet clan under your headship. Food, Slaves or Family, these are the goblin options." Jhaelvyll grinned, "Oh course, at your power level you can ignore goblin law and do what you will... Their lives are yours, as are these dead bodies on the sands."
Harry sighed, "That is what I thought thanks, if I speak with the matron of the clan, will the rest follow?" The death elf thought for a moment and then nodded.
Harry turned and walked toward Lord Gringotts, "I require the presence of the Matron of Death Bird. As for these already in the sands, let the betrayer feed the Horde. So I have Spoken."
Lord Gringotts grinned and nodded, "So it is spoken, so it is done." Quickly he sent a young goblin page to get the Matron, while sending warriors to collect the dead goblins. "Come sit with me while we wait for the Matron of your clan Elghinnz'hins."
Harry nodded and fixing his cloak climbed out of the arena over the wall as a goblin would rather then move to the gate like a man. Behind him Jhaelvyll flowed to her feet and followed, always within easy reach, though she did not believe her skills would be needed anymore among the goblins.
Harry sat with Lord Gringotts and was soon joined by Lord Gold and Lord Silver. Many a goblin watched this child-lord who sat as an equal with the ruling clan of the Horde. Soon a old female goblin bent with age walked toward them encircled in younger female goblins who while green and brown skinned look more elfin then the males. As the old matron moved toward the table, Jhaelvyll appeared standing in front of Harry, her body a shield for her master.
The old matron stopped and waited, Lord Gold introduced her to Harry, the old goblin matron bowed deeply as did the females with her, "As the Clan Master decided how our clan ends?"
Harry spoke softly, replying in the common tongue of the goblins, "Grandmother, give me the most skilled daughter of the clan to guide my accounts, on your honor tell me that our gold will grow and our vaults will fill with platinum. Do this and I give you my word, every daughter of Clan Death Bird will be a daughter of Potter and all houses which call me Lord. Every youngling of a daughter of Death Bird will be a youngling of my House. Can you in Honor tell me so?"
The old goblin cried silent tears, of all the endings that the stupidity of her sons could have caused, this is the best possible. Even goblins know of the House Potter, goblins knew where the Potter Blood came and each house to join. By having Clan Death Bird be the goblin clan of Potter, her family will be royal, her daughter will be able to openly love the suitor that has been visiting. Only a mating bond with the direct line of Gringotts, Gold or Silver would give equal status. She quietly replied, "Young Master, honors us so. I will find the daughter of the clan who is most skilled in the work of the bank. Your will be done... Call your house elf so we can bind with blood our bond and know who will be your agent among us, as I know you will not always be able to come in person."
Jhaelvyll giggled softly and spoke aloud, "My dear matron, my Master has no need for a house elf. I am his to command, his action, find your daughter or join your own blood to mine. But know this, his blood flows in me, I will feed into dust, any who dare betray the Master of Death Bird."
The goblin females took a step back as the matron whispered "Jhaelvyll Arabate". They knew now that any hint of betrayal will be dealt with harshly if the Master's mercy is not invoked. For the first time knowing fear.
Harry spoke softly vibrating his words making them seem to roll around in the heads of those who hear him, "Matron be warned, you speak to my seneschal, the one so bound to me that she acts in my place."
The matron called one of the other females to hold out the blood bowl, she then cut her palm and allowed the blood to flow into the bowl. Jhaelvyll cut her own palm and let her blood flow into the bowel. Harry stood up and walked over to the young goblin female holding the bowl, he drew the dagger with which he killed the first betrayer BlackScar and cut his own palm, "So it is done by word and by blood." The blood in the bowl boiled until all that was left was a crismon metal ingot.
After a bit more conversation between the females of Death Bird, the Lords of Gringotts and Harry, Harry and Jhaelvyll left the bank to shop the alley.
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