The weekend was mostly uneventful, September changing into October. What had happened was that overnight, the entire castle had been decorated to celebrate Halloween. It was a holiday that took place on the 31st, and was largely just like Nightmare Night except for the wandering about at night in costumes for candy. There would be a special feast on that evening, and, as many of my fellow classmates tittered in excitement about, all the sweets one could possibly eat.
But I largely kept to myself those few days, partially out of concern that I'd suddenly be overwhelmed by the emotions of those around me. It turned out that I had nothing to worry about, however. Even when the other girls in my year were talking about Quidditch and boys or whatever, I kept track of how I was feeling... and felt nothing but apathy or annoyance.
It was reassuring. Perhaps it had only been a part of those memories.
On Monday morning, an owl dropped a note into my lap at breakfast. It was from Professor Weasley - she wanted to meet me on the seventh-floor's left corridor at around 3:15pm, by the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. All it said was that it was a secret, somewhere away from prying eyes.
I liked secrets. It was a pleasant enough distraction to think about while going to my classes today.
History of Magic couldn't have ended soon enough. Sebastian, however, seemed to be in a chatty mood, asking me about the lecture he'd fallen asleep five minutes into. I ran through a paraphrased version of it from my memory, since I'd read the chapters beforehand and spent the rest of the class doing other work.
"Ah, so the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards was involved with the International Warlock Convention of 1289," he nodded in confirmation. "Well, that will certainly make writing that two-foot, five-inch essay much easier to achieve."
"Just two feet and five inches? You slacker," I shook my head. "I could write double that, easy."
"Are you challenging me?" he tilted his head, a hint of a smile on his face. "Mind that I've noticed all your hard work in class... but I daresay I still have the better marks between us."
"Please," I scoffed, waving a hand at him. "I haven't gotten anything less than 110% on every test I've had so far."
"Only 110 percent? How quaint," he smirked. "I got 115% on my last Charms exam."
"Now I know you're lying, you daft dolt," I turned around to face him. "There wasn't even that much extra credit on that test!"
"Sure there was... didn't you explain at least three differences between the Summoning Charm and the Seize-and-Pull Charm?"
"Yea? That was almost trivial," I raised an eyebrow. Sebastian grinned smugly.
"I came up with a fourth one. Professor Ronen even admitted he'd never even considered what I'd written down, and was quite impressed by my logic."
It was almost like I heard the needle of a phonograph snapping off in my brain. I stopped walking, blinking incredulously. The thought was just too ridiculous.
What?! No... there's no way...! "I call foul," I grumbled, taking a few larger strides to catch up to him. "I don't believe you for a second!"
"I'll be happy to show you once we get them back," he replied with a confident nod. I couldn't help but stare... if he'd actually scored higher than me on something...
...No. No way in hell was he that smart! Although, I had noticed that reading seemed to be how he spent the vast majority of his free time, at least whenever I'd paid enough attention to see him around. A lot like how I spent my own free time, in fact.
Well... this was new. Someone might actually give me a run for my money, academics-wise. Just the thought of not being the very best in class, alone atop a lofty pinnacle these other mouth-breathers could never touch... it just made me want to try harder. Study more. Gain even more knowledge...
...Knowledge. If there was one thing I'd always have over him, it was the knowledge of ancient magic. It was mine, and mine alone... even if I didn't know much about it myself. And Celestia, did I ever wish I knew more-
"Oi," Sebastian snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Are you listening to me anymore?"
"What, what?" I groused, squeezing my eyes shut and shaking my head once it registered.
"You didn't hear me," he frowned. "You seemed... distant over the weekend. Something happen?" I thought back to the trial, then back to the memories, and the emotions...
...Those damned emotions. Just thinking about them worming their way into my soul like they had drained me. I let out a groaning sigh.
"It's... a long story."
"Seems you've nothing but long stories," he quipped. We reached the tapestry in the seventh-floor's left corridor, an eternal dance of Barnabas trying to direct trolls into doing ballet, and then said trolls bashing his head in with their clubs silently playing out. "And what must I do to get you to tell me about them?" he asked as he leaned against the wall beside the tapestry.
"Oh, I dunno... tell me about another secret room of yours in the castle, teach me another dangerous spell, bribe me with money or gifts..." I counted on my fingers. "Then maybe if you're lucky, I'll give you a hint."
"Such a proper Slytherin, you are," he chuckled, shaking his head. I couldn't help but chuckle, too... I had to admit I enjoyed our banter. The subject quickly changed to more lighthearted topics as I waited for Professor Weasley to show up, thinking that whenever she did appear she'd likely tell Sebastian to scram before discussing the promised secret.
However... five minutes turned into ten, which turned into twenty. Growing impatient, I paced back and forth down the short hallway.
Somewhere away from prying eyes... wonder what that could mean? It wasn't until I'd passed by the tapestry for the third time that something happened.
"What in Merlin's...?" Sebastian trailed off, staring at whatever it was I heard to my left. I turned and saw a unassuming door suddenly being uncovered by sliding bricks. It opened on its own to reveal a dimly-lit room full of clutter.
"Huh... that's interesting," I mumbled, coming to a stop. We moved towards the door to peek inside when I heard quick footsteps approaching from down the hall.
"Forgive me," Professor Weasley gasped as she slowed her pace. "The Headmaster stopped me and I- ...Merlin's beard! I see you've wasted no time," her breath caught itself as she glanced inside the newly-revealed room.
"This is what you were going to show me?" I asked.
"Indeed it was... although, I do believe I mentioned this was supposed to be a secret," Weasley narrowed her eyes, jutting her chin slightly towards Sebastian. He only replied with a smirk and a shrug.
"Well, to be fair... I didn't know a hidden room was what you had in mind," I frowned. "I thought it'd be something else you were going to shoo him away from beforehand."
"I suppose you have a point... Very well," Weasley sighed. "I do hope that I will not have to impress upon you the need for secrecy, Mr. Sallow."
"My lips are sealed, Professor," Sebastian grinned. Weasley nodded curtly, then gestured to the door.
"Shall we?"
We followed her inside. The door closed itself gently as I took in the grand scale of the room. It seemed to be as big as the Great Hall, but stuffed to the rafters with all kinds of junk. There were piles of broken furniture from all the rooms of a house, old books and scrolls, chipped bottles of congealed potions, rusting weapons and armor, discarded portraits and musical instruments, a phonograph playing a broken record, cracked cauldrons, vases and urns, old trophies of past glories, ripped and torn cloaks and hats, and empty cages and wooden chests with no keys. Enchanted candles balanced precariously on some of the items bathed the room in a twilight-like dusk.
"What is this place?" I asked, watching a flock of books fly past us, flapping their covers like wings.
"This is the Room of Requirement," replied Weasley, a fondness on her face as she picked her way through a narrow aisle between towers of clutter. "It only appears when one is in real need of it. Ordinarily, a student might stumble upon this room entirely by accident... if ever. I'd only planned to suggest to you how to find it: by walking past that bit of wall, focusing on what you need."
"Ah, is that the secret?" I nodded, following after her.
"A handy secret to know," Sebastian remarked as his eyes danced across all of the useless objects.
"Now, where is Deek...?" Weasley muttered to herself. "He must have sneaked past and gone ahead."
"Deek?"
"The house elf I was speaking to in my classroom on your first day," she answered. "Thought he might help you use the room once you found it."
"Told you she'd taken a shine to you," Sebastian nudged my arm, grinning. I could only shrug in response. We walked down the narrow path for a minute or so before Professor Weasley became preoccupied with a bookbag she'd apparently lost many years ago, sitting on a table and waiting to be found. She shooed us onward while she reminisced, and Sebastian and I continued on in awed silence down the winding walkway. Amongst the total chaos of the room stood a few smatterings of attempted order - A portrait of a sleeping man yelled at us to turn out the lights. Another portrait of a snooty man ordered us intruders to halt, a suit of armor next to it taking one step forward in obedience before clattering to pieces. A random toilet flushed endlessly beside a bathtub, a scrap of parchment beside it denoting the annoyance someone felt when the Room had suggested they needed a bath.
The path narrowed a few minutes later, funneling us forward. There was a veritable mountain of amalgamated furniture parts before us with a small tunnel bored through to the other side, all of it surrounded by a swarm of glowing paper lanterns, floating as though hanging from invisible strings. In the darkness of the room, they were like a graceful cascade of red roses being poured from the heavens, frozen in time.
I breathed in quietly, as though critiquing a work of art. "This is... actually quite pretty. Beautiful, even, especially in all this randomness."
"You're right... beautiful, indeed." Sebastian gazed over to me, our faces bathed in vermillion light.
Adoration. Fascination. Sentimentality. Warmth.
My eyes met his... my entire body prickled with pins and needles. It took me a few moments before I realized the feelings were not quite my own. I quickly broke my gaze and blinked rapidly, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding in.
W-What... this again...? Had I just felt what Sebastian was feeling? What the hell was it?! The sensation was so unfathomably alien to my body, my mind, my very soul - even more so than the emotions foisted upon me in the Pensieve. These were emotions utterly foreign and unknown to me, emotions I had never once felt for anyone before. Emotions I had doubted even truly existed in others.
And yet, despite being so utterly foreign... they weren't terrible to experience. Terrifying, to be sure... but not terrible.
A stifled cough brought me out of my thoughts, back to the task at hand. One after another we crawled through the tunnel and continued on. Finally, after what seemed like an hour straight of wandering, there were noises coming from the other side of an arch formed from detritus. A pale glow like artificial starlight beckoned us through, only to be met with a dented goblet being hucked at my head.
"Hey!" I grunted, ducking to avoid the goblet. From a crate perched above us, the scraggly-haired head of a house elf poked out.
"Oh, there you are," he chirped as he turned to face us, holding a large leather bag in his little arms. "Wait right there, Deek will come to you!" The bag was nearly as large as he was, obscuring his body as he hopped down from his perch and greeted us. Behind me, Professor Weasley had finally caught up.
"Ah, Deek... we've been looking for you," she said.
"Apologies, Professor Weasley. Deek was looking through some of what's appeared in the room since Deek was last here... is this Sunset Shimmer?" his eyes widened as he eagerly approached me.
"Indeed, it is," Weasley replied with an air of pride.
"Deek is honored to meet you!" The house elf bowed deeply.
"Oh... uh... thank you," I blinked. I wasn't sure what I'd done to warrant such a reverent greeting from him, but I wasn't complaining.
"Do I get an introduction?" Sebastian groused. Deek turned to him, though with much less enthusiasm.
"Er... Professor Weasley told Deek that this room was to be prepared for Sunset Shimmer. But Deek is also pleased to meet you, Mr.... um..."
"Sallow. Sebastian Sallow." He glared through half-lidded eyes.
"Pleased to meet you, Sebastian Sallow," Deek reiterated. Sebastian grumbled out a "thanks" and looked away.
"Deek has been a friend since I was a second-year," said Weasley. "We discovered this room together. And, as Deek hinted, we believe that you might be able to benefit from this room like I did. Deek... would you be so kind?"
"Of course, Professor Weasley," Deek bowed again before turning to me. "The Room of Requirement will always be equipped for the seeker's needs. It's Unplottable, so it won't appear on any map. Most happen upon it by accident, if ever."
"So I've been told," I replied. "What do you mean by 'always equipped for the seeker's needs'?"
"Deek has seen students in need of an extra vial for Potions stumble upon the room, filled with them. You seem to have accessed it in its form as the Room of Hidden Things."
"I see... alright. So its 'hidden away from prying eyes', then."
"We were thinking it would be the perfect place for you to catch up on your schoolwork without distraction," said Weasley.
"Oh?" I turned my head. "My own secret homework room?"
"The room can provide you with precisely that," Deek nodded. "Now, focus on what you need... just close your eyes, imagine the room precisely as you need it. The room will do the rest."
"Hmm..." I closed my eyes, my mind a blank slate. My own secret room... what do I want it to look like...? An image appeared in my mind and I focused on it, tuning out Sebastian's startled yelling and what felt and sounded like an earthquake. I could hear pieces of junk falling from the piles and crumbling into nothing, massive whooshes and thunks and thuds that started out close by, but gradually moved further and further away. The stale air cleared itself and smelled fresh and empty, and light turned my eyelids from eigengrau to ember red.
Upon hearing awed whispers from the others, I opened my eyes, gasping at the sight. The room had transformed into the interior of my very own palace. Pale yellow marble lined the walls, floors and ceiling, my Cutie Mark enlarged and emblazoned in the center of the floor, matching a similarly-shaped skylight twenty five feet above our heads. Brilliant, flowing silks in marigold and scarlet were draped from the ceiling, starting from the points of the sun in my Cutie Mark and looping downwards to decorative balconies that sat in the centers of the upper walls. Between them all were shelves of books upon books, just begging to be levitated down and read. The lower walls were lined with banners displaying my Cutie Mark, mirrors and candlelit sconces, the light reflecting all around me in ethereal prisms. Various pieces of furniture - chairs, desks, a potion-brewing station and all its equipment, a potting station beside three long rows of empty raised garden beds, gardening tools, a practice dummy and a large clock much like the cabinet to the Undercroft, but painted in my colors - all sat neatly arranged on the floor, ready and waiting for use.
But that wasn't all. An opening to the left led us down a short staircase, where a decently-sized living area was located. The walls and ceiling were the same yellow marble, but the floor on one half of the room was covered in thick, rich crimson carpeting. A king-sized bed covered in fluffy comforters and pillows the colors of sunset lay between two floor-to-ceiling-length windows of golden stained glass, flanked by heavy crimson curtains. A large, circular rug with my Cutie Mark sat in front of the bed, and a mahogany dresser and a luxurious chaise lounge sofa with matching coffee table sat on opposite ends of the walls perpendicular to it. The other half of the living area was separated by folding screens depicting a glowing sunset over an empty beach, and kept concealed an ensuite bathroom. A bathtub of solid, carved amber, clear like honey and large enough for four people to lay comfortably in, sat against the far end of the bathroom against another trio of massive stained glass windows, rainbows forming in the cracks and crevices of the giant gemstone. There was also a separate shower to the bathtub's right, along with a personal sauna made of pure cedar that conformed to the available technology in this world (I chuckled as the others stared at it in utter confusion, wondering just what the hell it was), and along the opposite wall was a counter and sink with a mirror, space enough for eight fluffy towels in shades of cinnabar and all my toiletries, a teakwood bench to sit on and the toilet.
I smiled proudly. This was the ultimate study space for me, the ultimate retreat... goddesses willing, I would never have to share space with those vapid, annoying girls in the shared bedroom ever again.
"You've given yourself quite the canvas to work with!" Professor Weasley breathed, filled with wonder by my imagination.
"I must admit... I'm feeling quite jealous that this is your room." Sebastian let out a small sigh.
"I'm honestly amazed the room let me modify it to this extent," I admitted as I glanced around, admiring my handiwork. "Thank you very much for telling me about this place, Professor!"
"You're most welcome, Miss Shimmer," Weasley nodded before turning towards Sebastian. "Now, while Sunset is inside this room, I'm afraid you will not be able to make any changes yourself, Mr. Sallow. You will have to wait until she leaves before you are able to create a room of your own."
"Understood," replied Sebastian.
"Then, I'll leave you to it. This is your space, now," Weasley turned back to me. "Use it wisely."
"If you require any assistance, do not hesitate to call upon Deek," the house elf said before he and Weasley made their way up the stairs. Sebastian and I followed after them and watched as they left the room.
"...I suppose this is where I might find you from this day forward?" asked Sebastian.
"Oh, yea. I ain't leaving this place for anything," I smirked.
"Then I'll just have to slip in when you're out for a meal," he sighed, plopping down on a nearby chair. "...Then again, I doubt I could come up with a room as grand as this one. How did you come up with it?"
"Call it... 'aspiration'," I replied, swiping my hand over the cool marble walls.
"Well, you certainly aspire to something great. It's like a palace in here!"
"That was the idea," I chuckled.
Admiration. Excitement. Fondness. Wishing. The emotions suddenly hit me like a carriage. Thankfully he was looking away, not noticing me flinch at the sensation... although it was lesser than what I had experienced before. I could actually work through these emotions without them overwhelming me.
He's... impressed. Very impressed. And... I think... The sense of wishing puzzled me for a moment. Given that I knew he fancied me...
"...Feel free to drop in anytime. Hell, without someone coming in to tell me when it's time to go to class, I just might stay in here forever." The words slipped out of my mouth before I even realized it. I sucked my lips into my mouth and bit down after the fact.
...Did I mean to say that?!
"An open invitation?" Sebastian smiled genuinely. "I think I just might take you up on that."
~
The rest of the school week was uneventful. I spent all my spare time in my new Room, setting up everything I'd need for my studies. The raised garden beds were soon filled with various Herbology plants, all charmed with Herbivicus for extra rapid growth so I had plenty of ingredients to work with at my Potions station. After arranging all of my reagents on a nearby set of shelves, I brewed potion after potion until I'd created at least one of every kind in my textbook, arranging those on a different set of shelves. The books that had appeared on the shelves near the ceiling were all textbooks and supplemental books from the seven various years, arranged by year and subject. Though it was nice to have access to them all without needing to go to the Library, only a few of them were all that useful.
And, true to my intentions, after dinner Monday evening I went straight to my dresser in the shared bedroom, gathered everything from it into my pocket dimension and returned to my palace. A mahogany desk with many drawers materialized in the living area beside the dresser, where I offloaded and arranged everything to my satisfaction. I grinned as I surveyed my new home within the school, feeling pleased and at ease.
Someday... I'd have a palace just like this of my very own. But for now, this would do nicely.
Thursday afternoon, Sebastian made good on my offer and wandered inside, wanting a quiet place to study another book he'd "borrowed" from the Restricted Section. Every so often I'd glance over his shoulder to see if the book was worth reading myself, and every so often he'd call me over to ask for my opinion on the meaning of a sentence or paragraph. After a few hours of this it seemed to me that this was a book about the theoretical ethical considerations of using Dark magic, explaining how even the worst of the Dark Arts could be ultimately used for lawful, good reasons.
The conversation the two of us had about the book once he'd finished it lasted long into the night... we seemed to be in perfect agreement. Magic was simply a tool to be used, neither good nor evil by itself. And, of course, the more one knew about the Dark Arts, the better one could prepare and protect themselves against them. Honestly, it was so refreshing to talk with someone who thought like I did, who wasn't afraid to shy away from the hard truths and play devil's advocate. Where had this boy been all my life?!
~
Saturday, I decided to test my luck and headed to Hogsmeade. That elderly goblin might've been in the Three Broomsticks again, doing whatever it was he did there. And, if not, then perhaps I could at least ask Sirona about him - he had to have been a unique enough customer that she'd know who I was talking about.
Bartenders knew all kinds of things... you just had to say the right words to get them to spill their secrets. Though the tavern was packed when I walked inside, the barkeep in question was busy washing tankards behind the counter.
"Hello there, Sunset. Nice to see you again," Sirona welcomed, smiling softly as I sat down.
"Hello Miss Ryan," I replied. "I, uh... wanted to ask you something."
"Sirona, please," she waved her hand gently. "What can I do for you?"
"Well..." I considered my words carefully, for the maximum probability that I would get what I needed. "...First, though, I wanted to thank you again for your help with Rookwood and Harlow the other day."
"I was happy to help... those two are nothing but trouble. Glad you and Sebastian were here when they found you."
"Indeed. Um... do you happen to remember that goblin that left right before they came in? Lodgok, I think his name was."
"Ah, yes," she nodded, a glint in her eyes. "He's a friend."
Yes! "I thought so. Where'd you meet him?"
"I've known him for years. We met when I was waiting tables here as a student, well before I bought the place. He was cordial enough, but we weren't friends, then... His mistrust of wizardkind ran deep."
"You're friends now, though?" I asked.
"We are. Hadn't seen him in years when he came in a few months ago, but he recognized me instantly," Sirona smiled wistfully. "...More than I can say about some of my own classmates. Took them a second to realize I was actually a witch, not a wizard."
I blinked at the sentiment... once I'd wrapped my head around it, though, I let it go with a tiny shrug. None of my business... good for her.
"Not all goblins are like Ranrok and his Loyalists... Lodgok is as worried as the rest of us about what's been going on."
Ah, there's the information I needed. "Is that so? In that case, I'd like to have a chat with him."
"I assume your interest is to do with the rumors I've heard about Ranrok working with our friend Rookwood?" Sirona cast me a knowing gaze. I nodded firmly. "You might find him doing business at the Hog's Head. He's a trusted metal trader."
"Perfect," I grinned, already standing up from my seat.
"You should mention that we spoke... he can, understandably, be wary of witches and wizards. Even ones as young as you," she suggested. "That said, if you're looking for information on Ranrok to help rein him in, you'll find an ally in Lodgok."
"Good idea," I nodded. "I'll be sure to do that."
"If you find him, please give Lodgok my best," she called after me as I left the tavern. "I don't know what you've done to make such powerful enemies, but please... watch your back."
It took me a few minutes to find the Hog's Head tavern, at the end of a rather dim and dingy street in the southwestern corner of Hogsmeade. Even the door seemed to exude a sinister, sordid feeling, feeling oppressively solid. Once it swung open, I was struck by the stench of stale beer-soaked carpets, tobacco smoke and general uncleanliness.
Eww...
My eyes swept through the sparse crowd, resting on the white head of someone short and stumpy. The goblin in question was sitting alone at a table, his back to a smoldering hearth. Ignoring the gaze and snorts of the enchanted warthog trophy above the bar I walked over to him, cringing as I felt the bottoms of my shoes squeaking and sticking to the floor.
"Can I help you with something?" Lodgok grumbled as I took a seat at his table. He was nicely dressed in a white corduroy shirt and brown leather apron, with a red-orange scarf tied around his neck underneath.
"You can," I replied. "Sirona said I might find you here."
"She did, did she?" His demeanor relaxed, but only a little. "Did she send you with news?"
"News? No, I'm here to ask you about Ranrok," I shook my head. Lodgok's eyes narrowed, but soon widened in recognition.
"Now I remember!" he gasped, shaking a finger. "The Three Broomsticks... day of the troll attack! You're the student he's after."
"That's right. I'm Sunset Shimmer," I said. "And I need to know what he and his Loyalists are planning." Lodgok opened his mouth to speak, but closed it as his eyes narrowed again.
"Let's say I did know... why should I trust you?" he asked. Hmm... good question.
"Well..." I glanced away, thinking of the words I needed, "...Sirona trusts me. She thought our interests were similar, and that we might be able to work together."
"Hmm..." Lodgok pondered for a few moments. "...Well, if Sirona trusts you... very well," he rolled his shoulders. "I may know of something that could help us both... A way to get Ranrok to confide his plans to me."
Perfect. "Go on," I nodded.
"Years ago, a heinous witch stole a sacred goblin relic. Rumor has it that it now rests in her sarcophagus, in a tomb accessible only by wizardkind. Ranrok and I had a... falling out... a while back. The relic could well repair the chasm between us." I frowned at his mentioning of a rocky relationship between himself and Ranrok, wondering what on earth he'd meant by that. Could this just be a trap?
...Well, even if it was, I'd be ready for anything... and this Lodgok would sorely regret lying to my face. "Is that all? Sounds easy enough... fine, I'll get you your relic in exchange for information about Ranrok."
"We will have to trust each other," said Lodgok. "I, that you will not abscond with the relic, and you, that I'll share what I learn." I raised an eyebrow... despite his grandfatherly appearance, he was also quite shrewd.
"Do you know where this tomb of hers is?"
"Follow me," he nodded, plunking a few Galleons down on his table as he stood up. Nobody paid us any heed as we left the tavern. We walked in silence until leaving Hogsmeade to the west, careful not to say or do anything to attract attention to ourselves.
"So, what's this relic you want me to get you?" I asked once we were traveling down a narrow path in the hills outside of town.
"A valuable heirloom known as the Helmet of Urtkot," he replied. "The witch considered herself a collector and purchased the helmet as a trinket... she cared not what pain she caused the goblins."
"How so? Sounds to me like that was a normal business transaction. Why'd they sell it to her if they didn't want to?"
"Goblins believe that the rightful owner of any object is its maker, not its purchaser," explained Lodgok. I couldn't help but recoil at the thought... if that was how they considered ownership of anything, then how in Equestria could they even do business with anyone? Even themselves?
"Really? That seems... counterintuitive," I remarked.
"The differences between our kinds are myriad," he nodded. "...It may surprise you to know that I do not believe those differences to always be insurmountable. It is the reason I find myself traveling with you to this tomb today." While I tried to reconcile in my mind how the term caveat venditor seemed to mean nothing to his kind, Lodgok soon led us up some stone stairs just in front of the tomb. Large blocks of stone were arranged like pillars in a circle just in front of the entrance... looking at the ground, I could see fresh footprints in the dirt, leading both in and out.
Hmm...
"I wish you luck retrieving the helmet," said Lodgok. "As a wand-carrier, you should have an advantage. Before you set off, do you have any questions?"
"A couple," I frowned. "Why do you think this helmet will get you in good with Ranrok?"
"The Helmet of Urtkot is an ancient and storied relic, forged during a time of unity among the goblin clans," he explained. "It inspired greatness... that is, until it was no longer ours. Then it became something else - a symbol of what has been lost, of all that wizardkind has taken from us. Reclaiming it would mean a great deal to goblinkind... and to Ranrok. He would be grateful to me, should I return it."
"I see..." I mulled over this bit of history. So that's why Ranrok wants to rebel... I put the thought aside for the time being. "Second question... why can't you go in?"
"The tomb has been charmed to prevent goblins from entering," Lodgok said as he moved his hand towards the open entrance. It stopped once he reached the threshold, as though held back by a faintly-glowing force. "Goblinkind would have retrieved the helmet long ago if that wasn't the case."
"Okay," I mumbled, convinced. "One ancient helmet, coming right out."
"I do hope our alliance proves fruitful," he sighed lightly as I stepped inside. "Again, I wish you luck."
The entrance led to a tunnel lined with stacked stone bricks and wooden support beams, twisting its way deep into the side of the hill. Torches lit themselves as I made my way deeper, eventually finding myself in the antechamber before the crypt. The ground suddenly began to shake as I approached, and I gasped as a skeletal hand tore itself out of the packed earth, reaching for the sky, soon joined by many others. Together they slowly clawed the rest of their bodies out of the ground, rendering it soft and unstable as quicksand.
A hot shiver raced down my spine. These things were Inferi - nigh-invincible dead bodies brought back to a facsimile of life through necromancy. Only Dark wizards and witches were crazy enough to learn the complex rituals necessary to create one, let alone bind their mindless wills to do their bidding... naturally, magic of this sort was outlawed almost as soon as Celestia had taken the throne over a millenium ago, practitioners sent straight to Tartarus if caught.
And, naturally, if I ever came across such spells... I wouldn't mind learning them. Just to know.
The good thing was that Inferi were extremely susceptible to fire. One good Confringo ricocheting around the room took care of the lot of them, their bodies catching fire like kindling and burning to ash within seconds. Once I was sure that they had all been dealt with, I carefully trudged my way through the disturbed ground and entered the witch's crypt.
A grimace formed on my face. I had expected a witch such as this one to have been buried with all her riches and possessions, but only a few dusty Galleons remained sprinkled around the floor. The sarcophagus itself had been pried open, a large crack breaking the lid in two at its foot. I approached it, my wand alight with Lumos, finding nothing but an old skeleton inside and the fresh corpse of a stranger lying against the tomb on the other side.
Damn... someone got to it before I did. There was a rather distinctive ring on the stranger's finger, resembling an Ashwinder snake. After grabbing it I turned around and left as quickly as I could manage, nearly tripping over the uneven ground. Lodgok peered through the entrance as he heard me approach.
"Did you find it?" he asked.
"No... someone got to the tomb before we did. I did find this, however," I frowned as I handed him the ring. He studied it for a few moments, his face falling.
"Damn... Ashwinders got here first! We need to get it before Rookwood uses it to further ingratiate himself with Ranrok!" he hissed. "I saw one of their campsites not far from here, but I fear you must go in alone... my fighting days are behind me."
The Ashwinders are with Rookwood, huh? "Just point the way," I smirked. Lodgok motioned for me to duck down as he tiptoed to the edge of the hill, then pointed downwards. I could just see the tops of their tents peeking out from the canopy of short trees.
"Get to that helmet before Rookwood does, or we will lose our chance at any leverage - no matter how small - with Ranrok!" he groused. "To think those wretched thieves have their hands on such a relic..." If he had any other complaints I couldn't hear them, already Disillusioned and halfway down the hill. I could hear enraged and panicked shouting as I drew closer, and upon reaching the camp I snickered finding a group of wizards surrounding and casting madly at a troll... and the troll was winning. A couple of the wizards had already succumbed to its club, their mangled bodies lying limply over some crates a couple yards away.
For a moment I wondered if I even needed to join in the fight. While they were all distracted I crept into the largest tent, finding what seemed to be the helmet in question sitting prominently in the center of a desk. Far too small for my own head, it was elaborately crafted from a metal that gleamed like silver, trimmed with gold and inscribed all over in a language I couldn't read... probably Gobbledegook. Two deep red gemstones were placed on the hinges for the faceplate, surrounded by tiny diamond cabochons.
One of the wizards screeched especially loudly, before it was suddenly cut off by a guttural noise. The helmet in my grasp, I snuck out of the tent and back around it so I was out of sight, quietly got my broom out of my pocket dimension, cast Disillusionment on it and flew away, back to Lodgok. He jumped in surprise as the helmet seemed to float in front of his eyes before canceling the charms on myself.
"Here we are... I'm assuming this is it?" I smirked proudly. Lodgok's eyes lit up as he recognized what he was seeing.
"That's it... well done! This is sure to impress Ranrok!" he cheered, gently taking the helmet from my hand. His tone changed to one of deep reverence. "The helmet shines even more brightly than I had imagined! The etchings, the contour of the profile... remarkable! You did the thieves a service by recovering it - I know many a goblin who would have killed for it."
"Glad its out of my hands, then," I replied with a grin, holding up my hands.
"Thank you... this is sure to earn Ranrok's trust! I will take it to him immediately... it may distract him from his search."
"His search?" I asked quickly. I knew he was looking for me already, but this seemed to imply that Ranrok was also looking for something else.
"It, uh... is merely an inkling," Lodgok stuttered. "...You have impressed me greatly, Sunset. I am glad that I trusted you. We shall speak soon, but best to keep our arrangement quiet for now... Many will not believe that our aims might possibly be aligned." I gazed down at the little goblin with a raised eyebrow, trying to spy any hidden, ulterior motive his body might betray.
Hope. Amazement. Longing. Excitement.
But I couldn't see any hint of betrayal... nor could I feel it. He was legit.
"...Very well. Do let me know when you've found something I can use," my lips thinned.
"I will. Farewell, Sunset," he waved, turning to leave. I watched as he toddled off back down the path, towards Hogsmeade, unable to shake the niggling feeling gnawing at my mind.
In the end, however... I figured that if he really had ulterior motives, if he was planning on betraying me, I would've sensed it. It would seem that my exposure to ancient magic meant I could now sense the emotions of everyone else, and glean whatever information I could from their deepest, most intimate secrets.
For now, I would simply have to trust him. Exhaling in resignation, I teleported myself back to Hogwarts for the evening.