Hello, AMagicWriter here. I'm happy to publish a new Chapter of Harry Potter and The Shattered Ring
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The following 8 chapters are already available to Patrons.
Chapter 11 (Bridge of the Fell Omen), Chapter 12 (The Stormveil Castle), Chapter 13 (The Whispering Abyss), Chapter 14 (Dungeons and Dragons' Blood), Chapter 15 (Harry Potter and The Bronze Knight), Chapter 16 (Prince of Death), Chapter 17 (Cursemarked and Unbroken), and Chapter 18 (The Golden and The Grafted) are already available for Patrons.
As they crested the hill, Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. The landscape before him was like something from his worst nightmares – if his nightmares had taken inspiration from a particularly disturbed artist's interpretation of hell.
"Bloody hell," he whispered, watching as a monstrous bird stalked across the crimson landscape. Its head was grotesquely swollen, easily the size of Hagrid's entire body, with pustules of scarlet rot bursting from its feathers. "That's... that's not natural."
"Nothing in Caelid is natural anymore," Melina said softly.
A pack of what might have once been dogs prowled in the distance. Their heads had grown to impossible proportions, jaws distended and dripping with rot, red masses pulsing beneath their mangy fur. One of them turned to look in their direction, and Harry saw its eyes – blood-red orbs with tendrils of corruption seeping from the corners.
"The trees," Harry noted, his voice tight. "They're... bleeding?"
The vegetation, if it could still be called that, seemed to be in constant agony. Red veins pulsed through bark that looked more like infected flesh than wood. What should have been leaves were twisted masses of scarlet growth, reaching toward the blood-red sky like desperate hands.
"Is getting to the Minor Erdtree really worth..." Harry gestured at the hellscape before them, "...all this?"
"We don't need to enter Caelid proper," Melina assured him, pointing to a path that wound down to their left. "The Minor Erdtree stands at the border. We can reach it without venturing into... that."
Harry didn't need to be told twice. He guided Torrent onto the leftward path, trying not to look at the corrupted landscape to their right. Even from this distance, he could hear the sounds – wrong sounds, like the land itself was in pain.
"You know," Harry said as they descended, trying to keep his voice steady, "I thought the Forbidden Forest was bad. But this... this makes Aragog's children look like pet spiders."
"Aragog?" Melina asked, likely trying to help distract him from their surroundings.
"Giant spider. Size of a small house. Had thousands of children who tried to eat me and my friend Ron." Harry shook his head. "But at least they didn't have rot growing out of their eyes."
They rounded a bend in the path, and Harry saw it – the Minor Erdtree. While not as imposing as its greater cousin, it still stood about twenty meters tall, its golden leaves providing a stark contrast to the diseased landscape nearby.
"Well, that's more like it," Harry said, relieved to see something that wasn't corrupted by scarlet rot. Then he noticed the figure at its base. "Of course we have company!"
Standing guard before the Minor Erdtree was what appeared to be a living tree... sort of. It had a vaguely humanoid shape, if humans were made of twisted bark and stood four meters tall. In its hands, it wielded a massive staff like a club, and its "face" – if you could call it that – seemed to be glaring at them.
"That would be the Erdtree Avatar," Melina explained calmly. "A guardian created by the Erdtree itself."
"Right," Harry said, dismounting Torrent. "And I suppose asking it politely to let us pass isn't an option?"
"It's not known for its conversational skills," Melina replied with a hint of amusement.
The Erdtree Avatar proved this point by suddenly charging at them, swinging its staff in a wide arc that would have taken Harry's head off if he hadn't ducked.
"You know," Harry called out as he rolled away from another swing, "I'm starting to think this world has a communication problem! Everything just attacks on sight!"
"Less talking, more dodging!" Melina advised as the Avatar slammed its staff into the ground where Harry had been standing a moment before.
"I'm just saying," Harry continued, sending a blast of grace magic at the creature, which seemed to only make it angry, "a simple 'halt, who goes there' would be nice occasionally!"
The Avatar responded by raising its staff, causing golden light to rain down around them like deadly precipitation.
"Oh, so you can use grace too?" Harry complained, diving behind a rock.
"Harry," Melina's voice carried a note of fond exasperation, "perhaps focus on the fight?"
"Right, right," Harry muttered, charging his sword with holy energy. "Tell me, does this thing have any particular weaknesses? Besides a severe lack of social skills?"
"Fire," Melina suggested. "Its bark is particularly susceptible to burning."
Harry grinned, an idea forming. "Fire and holy magic? Now that I can do."
He channeled both grace and his own magic into his blade, causing it to glow with golden flames. The Avatar paused its assault for a moment, as if confused by this new development.
"What's wrong?" Harry taunted, spinning his blazing sword. "Never seen a wizard before?"
The creature roared – or made a sound as close to roaring as a tree could manage. Harry and the Erdtree Avatar circled each other. Harry summoned the ethereal blue blade of the Carian Greatsword, the spell he'd learned from Ranni's scroll. The spectral weapon materialized above his head, its magical edge humming with power.
"Let's see how you handle this!" Harry brought the magical blade down hard against the Avatar's staff. The impact created a resonating boom that echoed across the battlefield.
The Avatar stumbled back, clearly confused by the nature of the magical weapon. It had likely never encountered sorcery combined with grace before. Its wooden features twisted in what might have been bewilderment.
Harry's smile quickly faded as the Avatar slammed its staff into the ground.
The air above suddenly filled with golden light – dozens of sharp, luminous projectiles materializing in a deadly constellation. All thirty points of light oriented themselves toward Harry like arrows ready to strike.
"Oh, that's not good," Harry muttered, quickly gathering grace into his palms. He formed several orbs of golden energy, feeling the power pulse between his hands.
The Avatar's attack launched first, sending all thirty spears of light hurtling toward Harry. At the same moment, Harry released his barrage of grace orbs. The two attacks met in mid-air with a deafening explosion, filling the area with golden smoke and magical residue.
Harry didn't waste the opportunity. He charged through the smoke, another Carian Greatsword forming above him. The Avatar barely registered the attack in time, bringing its staff up to block.
"Got you!" Harry shouted as his magical blade connected with the staff. There was a moment of resistance, then the spectral edge cut clean through the wooden weapon, splitting it in two with a resounding crack.
Harry raised his sword for a final strike, but something unexpected happened. The Avatar dropped the broken pieces of its staff and fell to one knee before Harry. Its wooden mouth moved, producing sounds that seemed ancient and incomprehensible – like the creaking of old trees in a storm.
"Melina?" Harry asked, keeping his sword ready but hesitating. "What's happening?"
"It's speaking in the Old Tongue," Melina appeared beside him, her eye wide with surprise. "It... it's asking what you desire. You've proven yourself worthy in combat."
Harry remembered their conversation about the Erdtree's guardians and their precious cargo. "The Golden Seed," he said clearly, looking at the kneeling Avatar. "An asshole told me it can strengthen my connection to grace."
The Avatar's wooden face shifted in what might have been understanding. With deliberate movements, it raised one gnarled hand to its chest. Harry watched in fascination as the guardian's fingers plunged into its own wooden body, right where a heart would be in a human. There was a sound like breaking branches, and the Avatar withdrew its hand, holding a softly glowing object.
The Golden Seed pulsed with warm light, like a star cradled in wood. The Avatar extended its hand, offering the seed to Harry with what seemed like reverence.
"That's... not how I expected this fight to end," Harry admitted, carefully taking the seed. It felt warm in his hands, almost alive, thrumming with the same energy he felt when using grace.
The Avatar remained kneeling, its broken staff lying forgotten on the ground.
"Should we... help it?" Harry asked Melina, gesturing at the broken weapon.
"Its purpose was to test those who seek the seed's power," Melina explained. "You proved worthy not just through strength, but by showing mercy when you could have struck it down. It will return to the Erdtree's essence now, its duty fulfilled."
As if on cue, the Avatar's form began to dissolve into golden light, particles floating upward like luminous leaves in a breeze. Before it completely disappeared, it made one final sound – less like creaking wood and more like a peaceful sigh.
"Well," Harry said, looking at the Golden Seed in his hands, "I suppose there's hope for communication in this world after all. Even if it takes cutting someone's weapon in half first." he added, remembering Artan and his group of soldiers who decided to side with him and against Godrick.
Melina smiled, shaking her head. "You have a unique way of making friends, Harry Potter."
"Hey, it worked with Artan and Alexander too," Harry pointed out. "Though the latter was less fighting and more... pushing."
Harry held up the Golden Seed, examining its soft glow. "So... what exactly am I supposed to do with it?"
"You eat it," Melina said, her voice light and teasing.
Harry stared at her, waiting for the punchline. When none came, his eyes widened. "Wait, you're serious?"
Melina's giggle echoed in the air. "Long ago, before the Shattering, there was a proper ceremony to absorb a Golden Seed's power without actually consuming it. But that knowledge is lost to us now." She glanced toward the distant horizon. "The secret lies in the capital, at the foot of the Erdtree itself, but..." she trailed off.
"But we're not ready for that yet," Harry finished, looking down at the seed. "Of course we're not. And of course I have to eat it. Because nothing in this place can ever be normal, can it?"
"Says the wizard who just defeated a tree guardian with a magical sword made of starlight," Melina pointed out.
"Fair enough," Harry sighed. He lifted the seed to his mouth, hesitating just a moment before taking the first bite.
The taste wasn't what he expected. Instead of the woody flavor he'd feared, it was surprisingly sweet, with a warmth that spread through his mouth like liquid sunshine. It reminded him somewhat of Honeyduke's finest chocolate.
"This is... actually quite good," Harry said, taking a second bite with more enthusiasm.
By the third bite, he was wondering why he'd been so hesitant in the first place. The warmth had spread from his mouth throughout his entire body, like drinking a perfect cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, but magnified a hundredfold.
He devoured the rest of the seed eagerly, and as he swallowed the final bite, something extraordinary happened. His entire body began to glitter with golden light, grace flowing through him like a river of power. It burst from him in a brilliant display, causing Melina to step back, though she was smiling.
The surge of energy was unlike anything Harry had experienced before. It was similar to the first time he'd held his wand at Ollivanders, but deeper, more profound. The grace within him felt stronger, more responsive, as if a door had been opened wider.
As the golden light faded and his appearance returned to normal, Harry flexed his fingers, feeling the enhanced power coursing through him. "That was... intense."
"The Golden Seeds are direct gifts from the Erdtree," Melina explained. "They strengthen one's connection to grace itself."
"I can feel it," Harry nodded, summoning a small orb of grace to his palm. The light came easier now, more naturally. "Though I still think there should be a less... dietary way of doing this."
"Perhaps we'll discover the old method in the capital," Melina suggested.
"Along with everything else we need to find there," Harry added. "At least now I know what to expect if we find another seed. Though I do hope the next guardian is a bit more reasonable. Maybe we could start with a conversation next time?"
"In my experience," Melina said with an amused smile, "the guardians tend to prefer their traditional greeting of 'attack on sight.'"
"Brilliant," Harry muttered, mounting Torrent again. "You know, between the talking jars, the tree people, and having to eat magical seeds, I'm starting to think this place makes the wizarding world look positively mundane."
As they rode away from the Minor Erdtree, Harry could still feel the seed's power coursing through him. It was strange to think that just minutes ago he'd been reluctant to eat it. Then again, strange had become rather normal since arriving in the Lands Between.
"At least it tasted better than Polyjuice Potion," he mused aloud.
"Poly-what?" Melina asked, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"Oh, that's a story you'll want to hear," Harry grinned, launching into the tale as they rode onward, leaving the golden leaves of the Minor Erdtree and the blood-red sky of Caelid behind them.
Later
Harry and Melina materialized at the Gatefront site of grace, the familiar golden light fading around them. The first thing Harry noticed was the silence – a wrong kind of silence that made his skin crawl.
"Something's not right," he muttered, then his eyes fell on the bodies scattered across the road. His heart plummeted. "No, no, no..."
He broke into a run, recognizing faces he'd come to know over the past weeks. There was Edwin, who'd told jokes around the campfire. Clara, who'd taught him about the different types of smithing stones. All of them, people who'd chosen to stay and help others rather than continue serving Godrick.
"Check for survivors!" Harry called out to Melina, his voice cracking as he moved from body to body. Each one was cold, their eyes vacant. Some bore horrific wounds, others looked like they'd been torn apart.
Then he heard it – a weak cough.
"Andre!" Harry rushed to the fallen soldier, cradling his head. The man's armor was crushed inward, blood seeping from multiple wounds. "Hold on, just hold on."
Harry summoned the power of the Minor Erdtree. The golden tree grew three meters tall from the ground, golden light flowing from its branches into Andre's broken body. The wounds began to close, flesh knitting back together.
Andre's eyes fluttered open, his breathing raspy and labored. "They... they took them..."
"Don't talk," Harry urged, continuing to channel healing energy. "Save your strength."
But Andre grabbed Harry's wrist with surprising force. "Listen!" he coughed, blood staining his lips. "The weak... they killed the weak ones. Said we weren't... worthy of the graft."
Harry's blood ran cold. "Graft? You mean?"
"Godrick," Andre wheezed. "His men... they took Artan and Roderika. Our best fighters too. Said they'd make... fine additions to their lord's collection."
Melina placed a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry... the healing isn't enough. He's lost too much blood."
"No," Harry poured more power into the healing, but he could feel Andre slipping away. "There has to be something—"
"Potter," Andre's voice was barely a whisper now. "Save them. The Stormveil Castle. That's where they take... the grafting materials."
Harry felt tears burning in his eyes. "I will. I promise."
Andre managed a weak smile. "You're a good lad. Better than... this cursed land deserves." His grip on Harry's wrist loosened, and his eyes grew distant. "Maybe... maybe grace will find us again in the next life..."
His hand fell away, and Harry felt the last breath leave Andre's body.
For a long moment, Harry knelt there, holding his fallen friend. The golden light of healing faded, useless now. Around them, the bodies of those who'd dared to defy Godrick lay silent under the afternoon sun.
"They didn't even give them a chance to fight back," Harry said quietly, his voice tight with rage. "They just... slaughtered the ones they deemed weak."
"Godrick's obsession with strength knows no bounds," Melina's voice was heavy with sorrow. "He grafts the limbs and bodies of the powerful onto himself, seeking to become ever stronger."
Harry stood slowly, his hands clenched into fists. Golden grace energy crackled around him, responding to his anger. "They trusted me. They stayed here because I promised them they could make a difference, help people instead of serving a monster."
"Harry—"
"And now Artan and Roderika..." he trailed off, remembering how Roderika had spoken of her fear of Godrick, how Artan had sworn to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.
"The Stormveil Castle is difficult to navigate," Melina warned. "And Godrick's forces are far stronger than these raiders. We need to be prepared—"
"No," Harry cut her off. "No more preparing. No more waiting until we're ready." He looked toward the looming silhouette of Stormveil Castle in the distance. "They're alive right now, waiting to be... to be cut apart and grafted onto that monster. Every minute we wait is—"
His voice broke, and he had to take a moment to steady himself.
"I know you want to help them," Melina said softly. "But rushing in without a plan—"
"I have a plan," Harry's voice was cold. "I'm going to walk through Godrick's front gate. I'm going to find every person he's taken. And then I'm going to show him exactly what happens when you hurt people under my protection."
"The gate is heavily guarded—"
"Good." Grace energy continued to crackle around Harry, and now his own magic joined it, the two powers intertwining in response to his fury. "They can tell their lord I'm coming."
Melina was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. But first, we should give them proper rites." She gestured to the fallen.
Harry's anger softened slightly. "You're right. They deserve that much."
They spent the next hour gathering the bodies, laying them to rest with as much dignity as they could manage. Harry used magic to dig the graves, while Melina spoke ancient words over each one, commending their souls to the grace of the Erdtree.
As they finished with the last grave – Andre's – Harry spoke quietly. "I thought... I thought I could give them a better choice. A chance to help people instead of hurt them."
"You did," Melina replied. "They chose to stay here, to protect travelers and aid those in need. That was their choice, freely made."
"And they died for it."
"They died free," Melina corrected. "Not as slaves to Godrick's madness. That matters."
Harry looked at the fresh graves, then at the castle in the distance. "It's not enough."
"No," Melina agreed. "It's not. But saving Artan and Roderika – that would honor their sacrifice."
Harry nodded, his resolve hardening. "Then let's go show Godrick what happens when he takes people we care about."
As they prepared to leave, Harry took one last look at the graves. The setting sun cast long shadows across the freshly turned earth, and somewhere in Stormveil Castle, his friends waited in darkness.
"Hold on," he whispered. "I'm coming."
They set off toward Stormveil, leaving behind the silent graves of those who'd dared to dream of a better world.
Godrick wanted to see true strength? Harry would show him exactly what that meant.
Past The Outer Gate
Harry and Melina approached the first gate of Stormveil Castle atop Torrent, whose hooves clicked against the stone path. Ten of Godrick's soldiers stood in formation, their armor gleaming dully in the fading light. At the far end, a massive crossbow was mounted, its enormous bolt aimed directly at Harry's chest.
"Last chance," Harry's voice carried across the courtyard, cold and clear. "Stand down. Abandon Godrick. Or die."
The soldiers exchanged glances before breaking into mocking laughter.
"Big words from a dead man," called the soldier manning the crossbow. The massive weapon released with a thunderous twang, sending its deadly projectile hurtling toward Harry.
Time seemed to slow. Harry's hand shot out, fingers closing around the massive bolt mere inches from his chest. The laughter died instantly, replaced by stunned silence as Harry casually tossed the bolt aside.
"How did he—" one soldier began, but his words choked off as he looked up.
Fifty points of golden light had materialized above Harry's head, hovering like deadly stars. Without a word, without a gesture, Harry released them. The soldiers barely had time to scream before the explosions began.
The courtyard erupted in a series of golden detonations, each blast throwing bodies and armor through the air. The massive crossbow shattered into splinters, its wooden frame unable to withstand the onslaught of grace magic.
When the light faded and the smoke cleared, only blood and torn bodies remained. The stone walls were scorched with golden residue, and pieces of the crossbow smoldered on the ground.
"Harry," Melina's voice was gentle but firm. "This rage... it won't bring them back. It won't undo what happened at Gatefront."
Harry didn't respond. His eyes were fixed ahead on the tunnel that led deeper into Stormveil's approach. Torrent seemed to sense his rider's mood, pawing at the ground nervously.
They rode forward, entering the long, dark tunnel. Their passage echoed off the stone walls, and the air grew colder the deeper they went. When they emerged, they found themselves facing a natural land bridge – a narrow strip of earth spanning a terrifying drop into nothingness.
No railings, no supports, just a precarious path suspended over an abyss. The wind howled through the gap, carrying the distant sounds of Stormveil Castle.
"More soldiers will come," Melina warned, still trying to reach through Harry's cold fury. "We need to be strategic about—"
"Let them come," Harry interrupted, his voice quiet but hard as steel. "Let them all come."
"You know," Melina tried one last time, "when I first met you, you told me you wanted to understand this world, to help make it better."
"I do," Harry replied, his eyes never leaving the castle ahead. "And sometimes making things better means removing those who make them worse."
Melina fell silent, recognizing that no words would pierce the armor of Harry's determination now. The boy who had shown mercy to the Erdtree Avatar was still there, but buried beneath layers of grief and rage.
Suddenly, they were on their feet again. The blue motes of light that had been Torrent scattered in the wind, leaving Harry and Melina suddenly exposed on the narrow bridge and on their feet.
"Torrent? Why did you—" Harry began, but a resonant voice from above cut through his words.
"Foul Tarnished."
They looked up to see a figure materializing in golden light atop one of Stormveil's towers. The wind whipped Harry's cloak as he squinted against the glare.
"In search of the Elden Ring," the figure continued, its voice carrying an ancient weight. "Emboldened by the flame of ambition."
Before Harry could react, the figure launched itself from the tower. Despite its size, it moved with impossible grace, descending through the air like a predatory bird. It landed before them with enough force to shake the bridge, throwing up a cloud of dust that the howling wind quickly dispersed.
Harry found himself staring up at a being that defied easy description. Standing at least three meters tall, its form was both regal and grotesque. Its face might once have been human, but now bore the marks of something else – thin, wooden veins pushing through the skin like roots seeking sunlight.
In its hand, it held what appeared to be a simple wooden staff, though its pointed end gleamed with deadly promise. The being looked down at Harry with an expression of complete detachment, as though regarding an insect that had wandered into its path.
"Someone must extinguish thy flame," it declared. "Let it be Margit the Fell!"
"Margit," Melina whispered, her voice tense. "The Fell Omen. Guardian of Stormveil Castle."
Harry shifted into a defensive stance, grace energy already gathering around his hands. "I don't have time for this. People are dying in there while we talk."
"Ah," Margit's voice carried a note of something almost like amusement. "The arrogance of youth. Thou thinks thy cause just? Thy purpose noble?" He tapped his staff against the bridge, and suddenly it blazed with golden light. "How many just causes have I seen fall here? How many noble warriors have I sent to their rest?"
"I'm not like the others," Harry declared, though the bridge felt increasingly narrow under Margit's towering presence.
"No," Margit agreed, surprising him. "Thou art worse. A child playing at war, thinking grace and magic make thee special." His free hand raised, and golden light coalesced into a massive sword of pure energy. "Thy kind are all the same – young fools who mistake power for wisdom."
"And what wisdom is there in serving Godrick?" Harry demanded. "In helping him torture and mutilate people?"
Something flickered across Margit's strange face – was it anger? Sadness? "Thou speaks of things beyond thy understanding. I serve not Godrick, but order itself. Without guardians like myself, every ambitious Tarnished would storm these walls, bringing more chaos to a land already broken by it."
"Order?" Harry laughed bitterly. "Is that what you call letting a monster cut people apart and graft their bodies to himself?"
"The grafting is..." Margit paused, and for a moment his imperious mask slipped. "Regrettable. But better one monster we know than the countless ones that would take his place."
Melina stepped forward. "The world is changing, Fell Omen. The old order you protect is already dead. It died with the Shattering."
"Then I shall stand guard over its corpse," Margit declared. "Better that than the anarchy thou woulds't unleash." He raised both weapons, golden light blazing around him. "Now come, Tarnished. Show me this flame of ambition that burns so bright."
The wind howled through the gap between them, carrying the distant sounds of Stormveil's alarm bells.
"Last chance," Harry said quietly. "Step aside. Let me pass."
"Thou still does not understand," Margit shook his head. "I cannot step aside. I am not merely a guardian – I am the boundary between order and chaos itself. To let thee pass would be to betray everything I have stood for through countless ages."
"Then I will kill you," Harry raised his hands, grace and magic swirling together. "I made a promise to people counting on me, and I intend to keep it."
A sad smile crossed Margit's strange features. "At least thou art honest in thy conviction. Perhaps that makes thee nobler than most who come this way." His weapons blazed brighter. "But nobility alone will not save thee."
"Put these foolish ambitions to rest," Margit intoned, ready to strike.
Harry's response was simple: "Not today."
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