New Beginnings
Chapter 9

Over the next year, the whispers of danger grew drastically louder. The Dark Horde was arriving in full. A veritable armada of Dark Wizards, the Horde was made up of sorcerers from across the European continent ­ from both the civilized and the barbarian lands. The same wizards who would normally ignore or battle one another, united to conquer the Isles. The ships would rendezvous with the scattered remains of the battalion already in the country and together march as one army.

In villages and towns all over the country, the panic was evident. Muggle attacks became more frequent. Hogwarts Castle was filled to capacity with refugees. Lord Ferdiad had fought in many battles, but he was no longer strong enough to stand against an army. Godric was not in the county. Thus even in Hogwarts Castle fear of the Horde was not unknown.

There was one place alone where terror was not felt. In a hidden forest in the north, two women alone tried to prepare a counteroffensive. They too had heard the rumors. Owls arrived by the dozens carrying letters that begged for the aid of Rowena of the Glen and Helga Hufflepuff. Sometimes the owls refused to leave the Glen once they made their delivery, aware of the danger to come. But it was through these letters that Rowena and Helga were able to glean information and trace the movement of the Dark Wizards already in the country and approximate the rendezvous point.

But even two powerful witches, the two most powerful in the world, could not attack an army alone. Days were spent in meditation - gathering strength, following the Horde’s progress, fruitlessly searching for a way to stop it. No solution was found. As the hours passed into days and the Dark Horde’s landing approached, Helga felt desperation for the first time, increased when she saw the same sentiment etched across Rowena’s face. Quite often the tension and frustration was so great that Helga and Rowena could not speak to one another civilly.

The eve before the Dark Horde’s arrival, a mist settled into the Glen. Rowena, her voice cracked and dry, said to Helga, “Now we try again.” She sat down on the ground and closed her eyes.

Helga sat beneath an old oak tree across from Rowena. She felt weary. They would fight the Horde the next day, but so long as there was no way to defeat it, all their years of defending those in need would be futile. As she drifted into herself, she wondered who would protect the land once the Raven had finally died.

She woke up from her trance to see the Glen around her, but it was not the Glen she knew. The air was almost tangible, a thick yellow and orange. Helga blinked curiously. Rowena was no longer sitting across from her. In fact, Rowena was nowhere at all. Helga got up and walked around the Glen. As she moved, she felt the air vibrating around her.

The hut was no longer there. Helga was unsure of herself. She wished Rowena were standing were next to her. Almost before she finished the thought, she saw Rowena in her mind’s eye. Like Helga, she stood motionless and confused at the spot where their hut should have been. Helga felt compelled to move her arm, and saw Rowena do the same thing.

We must be having the same vision, Helga thought. Rowena’s presence vanished from her mind.

There was only silence around her. No winds blew through the trees and Helga heard no sounds of any living creature. The only noises emanated from her slight breaths and her bare feet on the grass.

“What is this?” she whispered aloud. As she spoke a slight quiver went through the trees and the ground rumbled. Helga clenched her fist. Branches fell from nearby trees. Was that my doing, she thought to herself. She clapped her hands together loudly. For a moment there was nothing, but then the large oak tree toppled over. The crash startled her and she ran out of the Glen, so as not to destroy anything else. In her mind, she saw Rowena doing the same thing. The ground shook beneath her light steps.

Helga stepped out of the Glen, but not into the hills that surrounded the forest. She was on a coast hundreds miles away. Taking a deep breath, she stepped upon the rocks that protected the land from the sea. She looked behind her to see the Glen, and she took some comfort in that familiarity. The air around her was still thick, but on this strange shore, it was gray and cold.

Helga watched the sea and felt a sickening unease. There was no wind ­ the sea was dead calm, like a forest pond. Nothing could exist in it. She wanted to scream aloud, but forced a hand over her mouth to stop herself. As she moved her hand, the sea also moved.

As curiosity replaced fear, Helga peered at the water. She stuck her arm out slowly and noted the slight waves that moved through the otherwise calm water. She raised her arm up and the tide rose with her. As she lowered her arm, the water ebbed away from the rocks. Helga jerked her arm up and a violent geyser of water burst through the calm surface. For the first time Helga smiled. She understood. Gently she tapped her foot on the rock beneath her. Stones on either side of her crumbled into the ocean.

Helga heard a laugh. Startled, she looked behind her to see a small, dark-skinned girl lightly draped in flowing, white robes. The girl nodded and smiled at Helga. Then she laughed again and ran into the Glen. Helga watched her disappear. The girl was younger and darker, but she looked almost exactly like Rowena. Helga followed her trail. The moment she entered the Glen, she woke up to find herself still under the old oak tree. Rowena was also waking up from her trance.

“I saw you. Did you see me?” Rowena asked. Helga nodded.

“What do you think it meant?” said Helga.

“We’ve been given the means to defeat the Dark Horde,” said Rowena, her eyes unfocused. “The land lent us its power. That beach is where they’ll arrive”

“I know the spot,” said Helga, “That must be where the Dark Wizards here are headed.”

“We should meet them,” said Rowena.

The two women went inside the hut briefly to gather their weapons. They did not speak to one another, each woman lost in her own thoughts.

They were about to leave the Glen, when Helga said, “Rowena, did you see the girl too?”

Rowena caught her breath. She closed her eyes and nodded.

“Was that…?”

“I think so,” said Rowena after a pause. “She looked like you.”

Rowena said nothing. The two women vanished from the Glen. A cold wind blew through the trees as if to punctuate their departure.

For years, wizards of the Dark Horde had lived in the Isles trying to conquer from within, thereby preparing the land for the invasion of the great armada. Their kinsman, the Parselmouth, Salazar Slytherin, summoned and unified the Horde. When he called, the Horde, by the code of blood and honor, had to answer. He planned the conquest, calling for an advance invasion, in order to destroy the protectors who would stand against the full Horde when it finally arrived. That meant the destruction of Hogwarts Castle. But from the beginning the plan had been disastrous. The surviving wizards tried to rebuild their strength by conquering towns. It seemed easy enough, and Slytherin gave his approval. But something odd occurred, something even the Parselmouth could not explain. A mysterious force stood in the wizards’ way. As soon as a Dark Wizard found the right town and began his conquest, he was defeated and rendered powerless. More and more of the Horde was brought over to aid their brethren, but they too were defeated. Now magical dungeons across the countryside were filled with alien Dark Wizards.

But that night in a camp on the coast, the mood was joyful. The unconquerable armada was arriving the next day, and they, the survivors would join them. As one force, they would enslave the people of the land. The first target would be Hogwarts Castle, the site of their initial humiliation. The wizards excitedly planned in detail how the Gryffindors would be tortured and killed. The fires burned and they sang songs in praise of their common ancestor, Herpo the Great ­ creator of the Basilisk.

They thought they were safe in that camp, in the company of each other, away from human knowledge. But when the fires rose and the ground shook, they remembered the battle at Hogwarts and understood how unsafe they truly were. There was no warning this time and the attack was far more vicious. Those not engulfed by fire, swallowed by the earth, or dragged screaming into the sea, were shot dead by arrows or by a spear that circled and struck like a hawk. Within an hour, not one man was left alive.

Afterwards, two women crept into the camp. Both wore only hooded travel robes to protect against the cold. As they assessed the carnage around them, the one with a quiver slung over her shoulders turned to the other and said, “Now we wait.”

The other woman leaned on her spear and nodded. Together they sat down by a dying fire.

As dawn broke out over the coast and the sun bathed the land in orange light, Helga felt a flicker of impatience. Whatever was to happen, she did not want to wait for it. Luckily, she did not have to.

“They’re coming,” said Rowena, staring out into the sun.

Helga could not see anything other than water. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Rowena, “They’re far away, but I can see them. They have weather wizards controlling the winds and the ships are moving quickly.”

“Do we attack now?” asked Helga.

“No,” said Rowena, “They’re not close enough yet.”

Helga watched the sea. The water’s ominous calm unnerved her. She wanted to end the battle now. Looking up again into the distance, she saw the first ships sail over the horizon. They were moving quickly. Each one was as tall as a tree and longer than a dragon. More and more ships came into view until the entire armada was visible.

“There must be enough ships for a thousand wizards,” gasped Helga. Rowena said nothing.

Each ship was dark brown, almost black, and bore a silver sail marked with a green serpent, the Beast of the Evil One. There were no visible oars. Rowena was right, magic winds guided them.

“Now!” shouted Rowena. Both women stretched their arms up toward the heavens. In the distance, the ships completely stopped. The sea’s current ceased to move. The wind had died.

Rowena arched her back and shot an arrow toward the closest ship. Normally, even on her best days, the arrow would fall lengths short of its target. But the wind picked up the arrow and carried it toward the ship. Helga watched as the arrow turned downward toward the deck. Her arrow sank the ship as effectively as a catapult’s boulder. Rowena shot more arrows up into the sky and more ships sank under her furious onslaught. Helga clapped her hands together and geysers of water burst up from underneath the ships, capsizing them.

Helga heard the screams of panic from the ships that sank and those that did not. She heard the murmuring of spells and knew the wizards would soon find a way to recall the winds and continue the invasion. She refused to let that happen.

Taking her spear, she made her way into the water. She turned her spear upside down and forced it into the water-eroded rock. A small burst of foam rose up at her feet and headed out toward the invaders. Rowena fired arrows into the white crest, and with each hit the rapidly expanding wave grew until it became a massive tsunami that engulfed all but the few ships on the periphery of the armada.

In panic, the wizards aboard the remaining ships finally regained control of the winds. But rather than continue the invasion, they retreated back into the horizon.

Helga and Rowena watched the ships until they were safely out of sight. Wordlessly the two of them made their long way back toward the Glen, unaware of a scant few local wizards and witches who witnessed the defeat of the Dark Horde.