Chapter 14: Hogwarts

Within minutes, aberrant steps became the sole noise plaguing the void-like atmosphere. No child dared speak nor produce even a whisper in fear of somehow upsetting the almighty figure who could oh so easily rob them of their destined birthright.

Their final parting with their parents had a sort of sombre affliction attached to it, though not in a sense one would expect. They did not mourn their sudden departure from home, but rather it was as though they were beginning to regret choosing to follow a woman who would sympathise with a lesser being such as Herne.

Few wished to redact their placements among the school though they knew such a desire would ultimately go unanswered, for they had already promised themselves to the mystical castle. Herne's final departure from the picket fence of parents didn't go unburdened by the strange atmosphere the teen's actions had created. When he spoke to Hengist, thanking the man for all he had done, his benefactor didn't even spare him a word of kindness but rather a sidelong glance of pity that the child simply couldn't comprehend.

Still, such actions were a fragment of the past for the child who now walked a destitute path. There was no cobbled pavement to guide his way nor any trodden-down avenue of grass for him to follow. Every step the boy and, by extension, the group as a whole took was new. They were the trailblazers, forced to set the path that others would follow.

The biting fresh summer air nipped at every piece of the child's exposed flesh, staining it a soft shade of peach pink while his nose began to softly drip fluids like a broken faucet. A pantomime of shadows stretched across the emerald fields the group trekked through, their actors the very trees that swayed with every passing gust of wind. At the same time, their bodies forced them to become the audience blockading their exit with their topiary form.

Helga stood at the front, her form and atmosphere completely unbothered by the mass's closeness to the umbral woodland. Her jolly smile remained a permanent fixture upon her otherwise graceful face, she had tried, and all be it failed to start a conversation with the anxious swarm of juveniles that meandered behind her many times. However, all her queries ultimately earned a reception of silence.

Few beams of light managed to seep through the shawl of leaves that danced softly with the sky's resplendent ballad, staining the world around Herne with an ultimately monochrome setting. He could faintly spy the outline of the two children that lingered before him, though that was as far as the forest would let him see, any further, and they would become a shapeless mass of black abducted by the umbral curtain of gloom that festered within the murky plain.

The group's formation relied upon this fact, if one were to stop and lose their place amongst the chain, they would simply end up a part of the scenery, consumed by the eternal miasma of darkness, never to be found again. Though the children didn't have to worry about such a traumatising outcome, for they had their partner by their side, a second pair of working eyes that would operate when theirs did not, they had to place their trust in the one next to them, an action Herne had no difficulty partaking in though one his partner showed utmost reluctance to, for the teen did not stand by the child's side but instead lingered a great many paces behind him, as though stalking him, waiting for Herne to fall out of line and join the mass of murky green.

With time the soft tune of gently brushed grass transformed into something more cynical, more foreboding, the spare few lights that god had graced with the ability to cleave through the curtain of leaves fell dull, and darkness claimed the land. The harsh crackle of broken twigs left to die from their progenitor crunched underfoot. No grass caked the coarse dirt underneath, barring the group's connection to the earth. It was as though life was simply not permitted to exist upon their solemn trek. A subtle sense of anxiety encroached upon all spare for Helga and, oddly, Herne, who had already experienced worse and did not fear such a light scare.

A mass of hands brushed through the collective's pockets, creating a sound that could rival the movement of the trees that now danced not a light step but rather a spine-chilling waltz. The children needed their wands, the sole thing that would renew their pride and mood no matter how dreary the situation may seem. They needed the feeling of control their gift permeated them with. And sure enough, when their fingers found their way around the hilt of their wooden utensil, their once ragged, panicking breaths fell still. Their eyes which were on the verge of glazing over now shone with a fiery light of determination, a vendetta against the darkness which they quickly enacted upon, creating a swarm of luminous bulbs that appeared conjoined to the tip of their wands.

They could now see the tortuous landscape that was previously veiled, shrouded by a curtain of mystery, and their fear was no more. The surroundings, now dyed in a pale white light akin to the luminous grace of the moon, could be said to be oddly charming. Small insects pillaged the soil underneath, afraid of the mystical stimuli that looked to expose them to their enemies while the sound of distant steps fell still.

The rest of the trip illuminated under such charms was without issue though still none dared break the invisible seal of silence the children had placed upon themselves. That was until the world around them began to change, and their journey became a lot more cumbersome. Their steps that previously fell against flat ground now battled an incline. It started off mild in stature, taking little more than an extra ounce of effort out of the otherwise energetic children. However, within minutes, it quickly turned into something infinitely more fatigue-inducing. Large steps were needed to even make the slightest bit of progress up the acclivity.

Heavy breaths became commonplace amidst the group of otherwise unfit wizards filling the air with a sweltering heat as beads of sweat seeped into every piece of one's uniform. If the venture continued at such a pace, the collective of juveniles would have surely called for a break. In fact, they were on the very precipice of doing just that when they froze, for light once again returned to their monochrome world, though this time it hadn't been through a hard-fought battle against the skyline but rather stood waiting endearingly at the end of an outcove, a brush of birch and oak wood trees that formed a perfect arc.

Once again, life filled the decrepit children's dreary bodies, renewing their vigour tenfold. They had an objective, a place to walk to.

Immediately their steps that were once lethargic and reluctant to the idea of continuing the trek broke into an abruptly nimble flurry of agile motions. They no longer cared for the concept of groups. It was every man for themselves as they dashed up the hill ignoring the boisterous laughter of Helga, who too joined in on the parade of footsteps with a light jog.

Herne could spy the light growing in volume to an almost blinding degree. He had joined in on the abrupt race more out of instinct than willing. Herne didn't wish to be left behind, the sole victim of the darkness. No, he strived to be part of the collective, a member of wizardkind, so when his body crossed the impromptu finish line that marked the border between dusk and dawn, his figure did not stop. His feet continued to push ever onwards until suddenly…he froze, for his gaze had caught sight of something simply gargantuan in nature. An all too close visage of new stimuli for his befuddled brain.

The land before Herne had all but levelled, now consisting of little more than a mild alleviation in the soil, and it was upon the flattened plane that such a structure rested, for what Herne stood upon was not a mound of dirt in the form of a hill, but rather a cliff, one's whose edge now propped up in clear view. And it was atop such a cliff that the bastion stood strong for what lay before Herne was a building. Neigh, calling it a building would be blasphemous, a fools way of downplaying the monument that stood dauntingly before them.

It was a castle, an acropolis of stone, one that seemed to glow with a dull grey light. Countless dauntingly tall pillars and spires lined the circumference of the earthen creation, randomly appearing in the most wondrous places that could only be sustained via magic, for gravity had given up on its fruitless battle.

A narrow bridge made of the same mystical stone existed in the distance and stood upon deep supports that joined the structure to the far-gone ground underneath. It connected the castle to another point that it otherwise would not be able to reach. A myriad of roofs, all painted in the same wondrous turquoise colouring, gave hints as to the structure's seemingly infinite amount of subsidiary-like buildings that plagued the royal space. The cliff's side remained in full view of the child, its glistening rocks appearing as sharp as the most refined flint; it fought for dominance against a pristine blue lake that glittered far below, the colour of which seemed purer in hue than the very sky above.

The place oozed an aura of absolute nobility and wonder. It entranced all those who were lucky enough to gaze upon its magnanimous form, a fact that not only Herne fell victim to, for with one brief look to his side, the child managed to spot a flurry of individuals just like him, all of whom found themselves lost, their gazes distant and fixed upon the exquisite structure.

"Haha! I'm sorry to announce, but I can't just let you all stand there and gape all day, or we'll be late!" Helga's voice bellowed, her plump form that once loomed in the backdrop now forced into the foreground in a successful attempt to disrupt the entranced children, breaking them free from their self-imposed state of entrancement. "Though you don't need to worry, you can admire the architecture all you want, just after the first day." She continued much to the group's poignant interest as she took the lead once again, her gait significantly bouncier than before.

The group, now a unified mass of children, followed in the bountiful women's oversized footsteps. Their gazes fixed upon the ever-nearing construct, they moved with bated breaths, enthralled by the nearing stone structure until, eventually, the once-distant figure of a castle became something all too real, for now, they did not eye it from a distance, but from right up close.

The group stood upon a cobbled flooring made of the most refined stones. Encrusted with the steaming drops of dew, the carpet of rocks seemed to positively glitter under summer's fresh light granting one the illusion that they were standing upon a sea of gems. Four statues stood in the foreground, all of which occupied one corner of the grandiose landscape.

From the east stood tall an immaculate sculpture of a lion who stood on its hind legs, its maw fixed open as if to consume the rising sun. Its entire body was painted a pure white, making it look like the structure was not carved from rocks but rather ivory. In its mane of flowing hair was encrusted the letter G, while in its claws glimmered a faint red light courtesy of the coated rubies.

To the west lingered the beast's opposition, a snake that looked to be made of obsidian. Its many coils gave one the illusion that it was ready to pounce at any given time, an illusion made all the more threatening courtesy of the serpent's agape mouth that did not even attempt to obscure its many fangs. A pair of radiant emeralds glimmered in place of the serpent's slit eyes while upon its tongue was pressed the letter S.

Perched atop a hanging to the north sat the third creation, a bronze eagle whose wings remained unfurled as if about to take flight. An embossed R lay plastered upon the feathered predator's left underwing. Its metallic claws dug into the stone creation they festered upon while two of its many feathers possessed a sapphire radiance, while to the south lingered the final guardian, burrowed halfway into the stone flooring with its head resting atop the soil was a badger, its colours no different from that of its kind as if to prove it was content with what it was and did not need the added splendour the other creations oh so sought. Its form had not been tampered with, no stones forced upon it, though upon the flooring before it rested the scraps that the creature had refused, topaz rocks glimmered gently under god's radiance, reflecting off its see-through surface and upon the mammal's face as if to tempt it with the idea of consuming the gems all the while a faint H could be spied resting atop the beast's forehead.

Still, none from Herne's group noticed the intricate guardians that protected the castle from any beast that dwelled within the four cardinal directions; instead, their gazes rested unanimously upon the creation that stood dauntingly before them. A true testament to both the nurturing and defensive nature of mankind, it was a door, a vast behemoth of oak wood that looked to be able to house giants.

Split down the middle, it seemed inconceivable that such an object could even be opened by human hands. Embraced by an iron frame that seemed to grow like flowers from their initial seed, the door structure was without rival. In the middle of the behemoth, stretched across both planks, was a huge metal embossed H, partitioned by the school's four token mascots. It left no mistake who this castle belonged to.

"The first of its kind in all of Britannia, Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry welcomes you. Your new lives begin here!" Helga stated as the gargantuan structure began to turn on its hinges, inverting in upon itself.