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Fate Breaker (HP)

Reincarnation. Whatever. I've got a puppy to break out of the dog pound, a baby to cuddle, Weasley’s to make wealthy, innovations to appropriate, a Malfoy to make cry, a house elf to free, an old goat to dethrone, a society to throw into chaos, and a hero to help. Pissing that bitch Fate off will come naturally .XXXXXXXXXX A familiar soul finds themself on their next great adventure.

Raat_Ki_Rani · Book&Literature
Not enough ratings
9 Chs

The Emrys Castle

AUTHOR'S NOTE; Heyooooo. Squeezed out a chapter for you lovely people. The support on this and the entire series has been kinda mind boggling, so really, thx a lot everyone. As y'all know, ya girl is trying to graduate University, so updates are gonna be slow till the semester finishes. Sorry about that ? look for updates on my most recently updated fics if your wondering where the hell I went. I also always reply to comments, so there is that. As always have a good time and tell me how it was. Thx again! ? ゚メル?

XXXXXXXXXX

I stare at the door in front of me, hand clasped around Dora's, her bewilderment just as obvious as mine. Hesitantly, she reaches out and turns the ornate knob of the intricately carved door in front of us.

It swings open to reveal a broom closet, the door slowly closing on its own.

I look at Dora. She looks at me. Then I reach up and turn the door handle. We catch a glimpse of a giant private library with tall, heavy shelves and ancient, leather bound tomes glinting in the light of stained glass windows depicting fantastical scenes before the door softly swings shut again.

Dora looks at me. I look back at her. Then once again, she reaches out and opens the door. And once again, it's a bloody broom closet. This is probally the tenth time we've tested the door and the results have been rather consistent. No matter what, Dora can't open the door to the library. I nearly always open the door to the library, but after testing my intent, I can open the door to the broom closet.

"Huh," I say, watching Dora reach in and pull out a broom. It wasn't even a magical one. Just a dank ass, raggedy old cleaning tool. "Magic's weird. Maybe because I'm the House Head?"

Dora shrugs, her hair a silver color like mine with pink streaks, the girl having decided to match me, much to my pleasure. "Maybe you just have to be an Emrys?" She puts the broom back, the ancient thing falling apart right before our eyes simply from having been touched. I wait for the door to shut before whipping it open again, and for the first time, I step inside, glancing about and bouncing on my toes in excitement. The ceiling far above me seems to be enchanted like that of Hogwarts's Great Hall, the clear summer sky peaking out at me, and washing the room in a warm glow.

I'm struck for a moment by how much has changed since last Halloween. Just months ago I was living my best baby life and trying to potty train myself and now I had a divine mission and a political and cultural revolution in the works.

What even is this, I think, wide eyed at the beautifully carved table in front me, and jeweled knick knacks and ornaments scattered casually about. I hear a click behind me and then panicked yelping, as Dora wiggles the door handle violently in her alarm, the sound of her worried voice and banging audible through the door. I bolt over, pulling it open, and only barely managing to dodge as she spills onto the ground, nearly taking me out with her. She looks up at me from her sprawl on the shiny marble floor, her hair a blazing red. "Oh, Merlin, that was scary. It locked behind you."

"Huh," I repeat again, taking her hand as she gets to her feet so we can explore. The magic, just like in the rest of the castle, was potent, rich and warm. I could always feel it tugging at my chest, vibrating happily when I interacted with certain items and places, guiding me this way and that. It was, in fact, how I found this room. When Dora and I had been adventuring, the tugging had me stopping in front of the unusually boujee door.

Even after Dora had pulled it open, something had urged me to try myself, and low and behold, this was definitely not a broom cupboard. In the few days we'd all been settling into the castle, we've discovered many things. For one, there were more than a few doors designed as shortcuts to other places, making the castle's huge stature make more logistical sense. However, this also led to much confusion because magic castles are sneaky assholes sometimes, and the doors lead to different places depending on how we open the damn doors. For example, we figured out that you can get to the kitchen from the Great Hall by stroking the carving of a Phoenix's tail feathers on a side door, but just opening it will take you to the main entrance hall of the castle. We'd been doing our best to map it all out, but it was taking extensive time, and the poor brownies were having to come rescue someone every few hours when they took a travel door to the wrong part of the castle. Andy thinks it was designed to confuse intruders, and I can't say that I mind the exploration. Suffice to say, I was also more than a little intrigued that she implied the castle was sentient, and really, why shouldn't it be? Many believed Hogwarts was, and Emrys castle was older by centuries. And built or at least expanded on, by bloody Merlin.

I pull Dora along, climbing a set of carved stairs, Shifting stone dragons, crouched like they are guarding the way, bowing their heads in greeting, wings fluttering, and jeweled eyes seeming to stare directly at me. On the second level are more shelves and books, but also a stunning desk with jewels, gold, and wood depicting more fantastical creatures. It was a common motif amongst the Emrys belongings, but dragons were always the most prevalent creature. There was also a nice little window reading nook and a delightfully fluffy looking couch.

I'm in love, I think, drooling a bit at the thought of all the ancient magic I would be able to throw myself into. As we pass by wall, I notice a portrait, and I feel my magic urging me to do something again. I step closer to examine the portrait, and feel my breath catch.

Due to how old the castle is, many of the portraits weren't moving ones. This one was like that, but that wasn't the surprising thing. It was that the portrait was of a person. We had found very few depicting people so far, and never like this. The man was in armor, bloody and bruised, perched on a stone ledge, one knee bent with his arm resting across it. His red cloak billowed in the wind, hair flowing around him, eyes trained into the distance. Vines and flowers climbed the stone structure around him, and it should have looked wring, a warrior, triumphant from battle, drenched in death amongst blooming nature and life. But it didn't. He looked apart of it, the grass reaching for his hanging ankle, a flower in his hand, and a bloody, cracked sword embedded In the round near him was ensnared by creeping vines and vibrant blossoms. My eyes kept falling to the tiny, peaceful curl of his mouth, the light in his eyes. He looked…content. Peaceful.

Dora gasps next to me. "He…he's an Emrys," she whispers, and I whip my head towards her, startled out of my thoughts.

"How do you know that?" I question, nose scrunched in confusion.

"Kamaria, mum said that only the Emrys have hair and eyes like yours." I blink, startled, and sure enough, the man did seem to have hair the same color as mine, although I couldn't quite make out his eyes, trained in the distance as they were.

After a moment, Dora wandered away, back to the stairs, and I decided she would be fine for a bit without me. Let's check that desk, shall we?

Movement catches my eye, and confused, I turn to it, and promptly squeak in shock, nearly losing control of my tiny bladder.

The knight"s head has turned, facing me dead on like some horror movie bullshit. Aw, fuck, I've finally gone crazy. Wait! No, I can see his eyes! And he's grinning!

I sputter, gaping as I take in the way his hair and cloak now flutter in a breeze, and the way the grass sways with it as he hops down from his stone seat.

I open my mouth,planning to call Dora, but the knight raises his finger to his lips, shaking his head, and my teeth click shut. Now insatiably curious, I shuffle closer, the man leaning his crossed forearms just on the other side of the frame. This close up, I can see his face, the gentle look in his silver eyes, and the warm grin that was different from the calm look he had when he was frozen.

So, this is my ancestor, huh? Truthfully, I couldn't say we looked alike outside of the coloring of our hair and eyes, my olive skin and round, mixed feature very different from his angular European ones. But I couldn't help the pleased feeling and the bashful happiness from spreading on my face.

Hr grins back, all mischief and mirth, and whispers something. I tilt my head uncomprehendingly. Aw, damn, I think that's Latin, or old English, maybe. I give the man a sheepish look and shake my head, and he seems to understand, his smile becoming gentle again. Then, gesturing downwards, a door handle apears beneath his frame.

I stare at the dragon head handle, biting my lip, before shaking my head apologetically. "Soon. I'll come back soon." He smiles, and returns back to his spot on the stone. He gives me one last wave and the picture goes still again.

Still feeling light, I check the desk and find most of the papers indecipherable, although the handwriting is lovely. All the papers are carefully positioned as well, like they were left for someone.

I sigh, placing yet another indecipherable text back. "Ima need a translating spell, aren't I?"

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"Hmm, there are spells for translation, but you are too young to use them. The level of magical control required would be like a third year Hogwarts student. It probably won't be feasible for several more years, Dear." I groan in despair, sadly stuffing my face with sausages, terribly disappointed, but not one to let anything keep me from eating good food.

Papa, being the incredible dad that he is, gives me one of his own sausages to make me feel better. It was becoming a bit of a tradition for the Tonks', Papa, and I to eat meals together, and we have started taking this time to share information and update one another on the work being done. On days that the weather was nice, like today, we'd taken to doing so on the various balconies around the castle. The stone canopy of this terrace, attached to the Family Tower, the largest of the seven towers, was providing shade from the summer sun, but the brownies said that its enchantments could make it seem as if the space is open to the sky. The view from any of these balconies would steal your breath away. We were so high up that we could see thick, lush greenery melt into the glittering waves of the sea, and gentle breezes would bring the scent of the woods and sea salt. Even I, with my dull and blurred eyes, felt shivers from the vibrancy of it all.

I frown, glancing about the table and all the various dishes our magical servants had prepared for us, before snatching a cinnamon pastry. In the short time we had been here, Andy had started reviewing tons of political and legal stuff with Ted's help, some of it utterly ancient due to my title having been dormant for so long. They were trying to make sure no one could take the perks I had, and that involved many a dusty books. Additionally, they had started working on Sirius's case.

When we had filled Andy in, using my Seer abilities as an explanation, the witch had been fucking furious. The books and fandom had not exaggerated about the intensity of the Black Madness. Seeing such a normally refined and composed lady absolutely lose her shit was unsettling at best and petrifying at worst. Andy had raged, her magic whirling wildly around her and breaking things in her fury as she snarled and spit venom at damn near everyone, be it the aurors, the ministry, Sirius, or herself. Papa had to actually remove Dora and I from the room after a pair of ornamental swords went flying.

Sirius, having been the only other Black who wasn't a Voldemort/ dark faction memeber, was Andy's closest remaining family member. Hell, he was one of the only Blacks left at all, the war having utterly devastated the family lime. Andy blamed herself for not looking more into Sirius's arrest. Of course, she and her family having been in hiding, were still in hiding actually, and without political power, there was little she could do for him, but she still felt like she abandoned her little cousin. She was inconsolable for nearly two whole days. Then one morning, she marched herself to breakfast, Ted at her side and an aura like steel. I found myself morbidly excited to watch her tear through anyone that stood between her and freeing her "baby cousin", never mind that Sirius was nearly 24 years old.

Unfortunately, it didn't look like getting Sirius out was going to be anywhere near as quick as I hoped. Yes, I could have Andy call for a trial, and they would have to give him one. That wasn't the difficult part. Most likely, with veritserum or a pensive, Sirius would go free no matter what, the light and gray factions would make sure of it on principle alone. Hell, many houses would back us just to be in House Emrys Le Fey's good graces.

The issue was the custody of one Boy-Who-Lived, something that will undoubtedly come up immediately after Sirius's trial concludes.

Sirius has been in Azkaban for nearly a year, and while that wouldn't matter in most custody situations, Sirius being the legal godfather and innocent, but this was the well-being of Harry James Potter in question. Not only the Savior of the Wizarding World, but the heir to an Ancient and Noble house. A wealthy and prominent one at that. The Dark Faction Houses will want him for the wealth and glory as well as to hurt or turn him to the Dark side. The Light Faction will want to raise him or do whatever Dumbledore wants, which probably means throwing him back with the Dursleys. And the Grey faction… are unpredictable. Even though they were mostly neutral, things were getting dicey for them towards the end of the war. They might just challenge for custody of Harry just for his seats in the Wizengamot and prestige.

In order to make sure Sirius gets custody and Harry isn't snatched away and treated like everyone's favorite chew toy, we had to start networking. Essentially, before Sirius's trial we needed allies, houses with votes that will vote to allow Sirius custody when it inevitably goes to a vote on the excuse that Sirius is mentally unfit. Andy and I were making a list of houses to approach, one of the most important being the Longbottoms, because although Nevile's parents were crippled like canon, (and damn did I feel guilty about not being able to stop it), Lady Alice Longbottom was Harry's legal godmother. That means Dowager Longbottom, Nevile's Gran, had claim to him. Ultimately, she was going to be our biggest ally or obstacle.

Let's hope Dumbledore doesn't interfere, because he could make everything collapse like a house of cards.

I eat the fruit Dora passes me when her mum isn't looking, pitying the girl who really hates bananas for some reason, much to Dora's eternal relief. I tilt my head, catching the sound of waves crashing on the shore even though it should be impossible from this distance. This sucks. I have all these cool magic books, but I won't be able to read them for years. What good is knowledge I can't use? Damn this puny toddler body! If only I could use the spell without having to use my own magic- Oh? There's an idea.

"Andy! Is there a translating artifact?" She startled, before beginning to ponder.

"Not that I'm aware of, Dear. People tend to just use the spell." I sneer, disgusted. Lazy ass wizards only making things work at the bare minimum efficiency and never innovating shit-

I growl, glaring furiously at my eggs. "You know runes? Andy? Ted?"

"Uh, sweetheart, we both took runes, I suppose. I nearly got my masters in it, but I'm not sure-" Ted admits, and I whip my head up, a maniacal laugh slipping past my lips.

"We make it! Then, we sell it in my company!" I cackle, trying to slyly steal Papa's coffee.

"What company?" Papa blurts, to bewildered to notice the coffee heist under his nose. Just a bit of that sweet, sweet heavenly nectar.

"Yes, what company?" Andy asks, smoothly taking the coffee from my grubby little hands, much to my despair. Moms and their all seeing eyes are apparently cannon for any and all universes. This some bullshit-

"The one I'm making. Haven't named it yet," I shrug, pouting at the patronizing vibes headed my way. "Stop. I'm serious, you lot!"

"And how would this device work, Sweetheart?" Ted asks indulgently. I huff, but call Willow, asking for a pen and paper.

Quickly, I scribble a pair of thick framed glasses, and then notes. Honestly, I didn't know a lot about runes except that they were kind of like coding. Admittedly, I didn't know shit about how computers actually worked either, my vision always having made it too difficult to bother with what I discarded as inaccessible for someone with my disability to dabble with, but I understood the basics of both. Certain symbols in a certain order creates a certain effect in the program or enchantment, as I'd learned from the books we bought in diagon alley. So, all a translating device would really need is to anchor an existing translation spell, or several, with the intent of translating the words seen through the glasses lenses. Many runes anchored pre existing spells, so why would this be difficult?

Popping out of my seat, a totter over to the two magical adults as my dad watches with interest, and I shoot him a grin, pleased that he is by far the least dubious of them all, having gotten used to me doing unlikely things by now. It felt like support, something I was learning to relish in this life.

I watch Ted's eyes grow wide as I explain, using my rudimentary knowledge of runes, and find myself amused. Andy is staring blankly at what is essentially a child's crayon drawing, but in ink, her cup of tea halfway to her mouth. I take advantage of her daze to steal back Dad's coffee and head back to my seat, slurping gleefully.

"Merlin's… uh…" Ted pauses, clearly uncertain what to say while actually in Meelin's ancestral home. I don't have that kind of shame though, and since he's the ancestor Lady Magic stuck me with to revive the Emrys, and Le Fey, bloodlines, I think I'm entitled to be as ridiculous and crass as I'd like. Especially since, while I'm not upset about being Kamaria Emrys Le Fey, it is clearly going to be a complete pain in my ass.

"Merlin's mancave!" I provide cheerfully, watching Papa spit take his coffee, (Oi! I wanted to drink that! Wait, when the hell-), before the table erupts into hilarity. I smile, happy to see my new family in good spirits, and I could tell that's what the Tonks' family was becoming. I was more then okay with it

"M-Merlin's mancave! As the Princess commands," Ted wheezes in between his booming chuckles, shaking his head. As the table settles back down, Dora still giggling from the floor where she collapsed in her mirth after toppling from her chair, Ted grins at his wife, who is doing her best to stifle the evidence of her own amusement. "Well, Kamaria isn't actually wrong. The design is entirely feasible, and not even particularly difficult if we are just anchoring translating spells. I'm sure there would be a market, and if there is something like it out there, it's either too complicated for mass production or unpatented."

Andy nods, reaching over to pat my head, impressed. "Yes, I agree. Looks like we made a good decision to become the vassals of this house. The future looks bright."

I beam, just as excited to have them.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I believe we will introduce you to the Dowager Longbottom first," Andy states, carefully braiding the top of my hair back from my face and pinning it. "Which is why we will be starting etiquette lessons today. You too, Dora."

Dora groans and face plants on my bed before letting gravity drag her over the edge to starfish on my plush fur rug, making me snicker. "But, Muuuuuuuummm-"

"No, buts, Nymphadora," Andy ignores the way Dora hisses like an angry cat at the use of her first name. "From now on, the Tonks represent House Emrys Le Fey. Acting in a disgraceful manner could hurt Kamaria and the House."

Dora pops her head up over the edge of the bed like a gopher from a hole, and I have to bite my cheek to keep from bursting into laughter. "I don't want to hurt Ria! I want to help her! But… what if I'm bad at it? I'm not good at remembering which spoon to use and stuff like that!"

Andy hums, her aura soft and loving and I shamefully shove my jealousy down. So this is what motherly love feels like, huh? "My dears, while I will be teaching you those things, and I'm sure you will both do fantastically, that part of etiquette is the least important." I tilt my head, frowning in confusion at her. She gives my hair one last adjusting tug before seating herself on the rich blue and silver duvet next to me, beckoning Dora to join us before tucking us both under each of her arms. "Etiquette is not just a bunch of little things rich people like to fuss over," she laughs at my skeptical side-eye. "Okay, yes it is, but more importantly, it's the weapon on the battlefield of lords and ladies." Oh, ho, now I'm intrigued.I wasn't the only one either.

"What do you mean, Mother?" Dora asks curiously, her hair going purple.

Andy curls her red painted lips. "High society is a battlefield, my Dears. You have to dodge barbed words hidden in silken compliments, and parry questions you don't want to answer all while looking like you aren't breaking a sweat. If someone senses weakness of any kind, they will do their best to take advantage, by any means necessary. I will teach you to look strong and persuade people to do your bidding. I'll teach you how to command a room and gain the respect of all that meet you. I'll teach you how to find friends and allies to achieve any goal you put your mind to, and how to use others' vulnerabilities against them. This is what it really means to be a lady."

I stare at Andy's sharp smile, baffled, terrified, and in awe. …Morgona's cankles, I really lucked out. Thank you, Lady Magic for guiding me to the scary, but badass Andromeda Black Tonks.

"I wanna be you when I grow up," I tell my proxy honestly. She tosses her head back, barking a laugh, and I'm reminded of the resemblance between her and Sirius. She gives me a fond squeeze.

"I want you to be better," Andy tells us. "How have you been settling into your new rooms, Princess?"

I nod, ecstatic. "I love them. I thought Papa should take the master suite, but he said he didn't need the space and I should have it as the magical Head of House, especially with the Ward Room next door."

I gaze around us, excited despite having already spent plenty of time in here. Papa and I lived in the Family Tower, the tallest and central tower, while the Tonks' lived in a different tower, one closer to the giant, and not hidden, library. My room was at the very top, large and circularly shaped. It was themed with dark wood and starry nights, a popular theme in the castle, with tapestries and paintings on whatever walls weren't taken up by lovely windows that peered out across the island's grounds. And dear gods, it was a glorious sight. It was undoubtedly the most beautiful place I'd ever seen in any life, and I doubted anything would ever compete with it, in this life or the next.

"Yes, that might be for the best in case of an emergency, since only you can put the castle on the defensive. His suite is only just down the stairs, anyway," I nod, climbing into the awesome hanging swing where I often ended up sleeping, even the canopied bed was positively lovely. "I imagine you also have the best view from that private terrace of yours, lucky girl."

Well she isn't wrong. I can't believe I actually get to live here.

Dora climbs into the swing with me, giggling as she makes it undulate precariously. I pass her a pillow and she makes herself comfortable. Andy summons herself an armchair and settles herself next to us, clapping her hands once for our attention. "Now, we shall start with the basics today. The quicker you can master them, the sooner we can start making allies and introducing you two to people."

I frown. "I don't think we should let people know I'm the Lady of House Emrys Le Fey. We should just pretend I'm the heir. We should also hide my blood status for a while."

Andromeda shifts, her aura telling me she is taken aback. "And why is that, my dear? I'm not against it, but I'd like to hear you're reasoning."

"I don't want anyone thinking they can take custody of me, even though I'm emancipated. Although I have you as my proxy, you don't have political clout on your own to subvert a challenge. Just in case, I want to pretend I'm the heir and that my "mother" is the head of the family," I smirk, finally finding the words to articulate the feeling that's been nagging at me. "When the truth eventually comes out, we'll weaponize it. A muggleborn princess born of squib lines. The pureblood supremacist might just up and die from the shock of it."

Dora shrugs, "Not sure how that would work, but it sounds fun. Like a prank. Let's do it."

Andromeda grins, something that looks positively fiendish and bloodthirsty. "Very clever. I'll speak to your fathers about logistics. Now, for today…"

XXXXXXXXXX

I pry my eyes open, tired as hell, and peer around the room, lit only by the moon and stars peeking through my windows. Groaning, I drag myself out of bed, and into a robe. I've been trying to go back to the secret room behind the sneaky portrait I found with Dora for several nights, but keep falling asleep before I get the chance to sneak away. It's just about the time I'm stuffing my second foot into a slipper that I realize I could have just asked Willow to wake me up, cuz Willow ain't no snitch. Well, to be fair, since I'm the person the brownies are bonded to, none of them could snitch even if they wanted to.

The realization sends my toddler brain into a frustrated meltdown. I silently, but with the utmost wrath, spend the next few minutes hurling stuffed animals and pillows around the room, before burying my head in fluffy blankets and screaming into them.

Toddler tantrum over, I collect myself, wipe away some embarrassing tears of frustration, and head to the Ward Room. It is directly connected to mine and houses all the ward stones in the property. The walls glow various colors, refracting light bouncing off jewels and carved runes in the walls. On the other side of the room is a single door. I've been calling it the Master Travel Door. Unlike the other Travel Doors, which have a few set locations it changes in between, this one can go anywhere based on intent. It makes sense considering it's connected to the master suite.

Pressing my palm to the door, I think of that strange door, sometimes leading to a broom closet and other times to that private study. Take me there. Please, I need to go there.

There is a flush of warm magic, like stepping inside a cozy house after hours in the bitter cold winter wind, and the door under my fingertips changes into the one I remember. With a twist, I dart inside, findinding myself amongst towering bookshelves and beautiful trinkets again, this time lit by the night sky and the golden glow of candles. Excited, I head to the stairs, the small stone dragons once again tipping their heads in acknowledgement. I stop briefly to run my hand over the top of one of their heads, and I could swear it leaned into my touch, like a scaly, spiky cat.

After a few more pats each, just to be fair, I make my way to the portrait. The gentle warrior is already waiting for me, leaning on the frame again, and when he sees me, his mouth curves into a wide smile, eyes scrunched from the force of it. He says something again, but I still don't understand, much to my sadness, but he just nods, and that same door handle appears once again. I reach for it, but pause.

Pointing at myself, I state, "Kamaria." I point at him, tilting my head. Once again, he beams.

"Balinor," he says, hand on his chest. I bounce, happy to have my ancestor's name.

"Balinor," I repeat, and then, with a wave, I turn the knob and pull the door open. The door is heavier than most of the others in the castle, but it swings open with a bit of struggle on my part, revealing…some seriously sketchy ass stairs. The single candle is doing jackshit to illuminate the way ahead. It looks like a fucking passage way to hell.

Holding the door open I peek back over the other side of it, shooting Balinor a horrified look. "Seriously?" He tosses his mane of silvery hair back as he lets out a body shaking laugh, clearly amused by my terror. Eventually, he settles, and flicks his hand in the universal sign for, "Shoo, go on, then." I narrow my eyes at the still snickering knight. "Fine. But if this leads somewhere I don't like, I will come back and set your ass on fire. Don't think I won't!" And with that, I press myself to the wall and carefully start my descent.

To my relief, more candles along the wall light up as I get further along, dim light revealing smoothe stone. It was the first wall in the entire castle that I'd seen so far that was so plain. No tapestries or paintings or even runes and carvings. There wasn't even paint.

After too many fucking stairs and 2 breaks, I make it down, and the second I step off the last step, there's a whoosh, and light temporarily blinds me. Wincing and swearing at the spike of pain in my light sensitive peepers, I stagger, and end up sitting in the last step as I try to blink the haze from them.

It takes me too long to realize the haze is the light reflecting off the literal treasure trove in front of me. I gape, seeing the sparkle of jewels and the glow of gold and what looked like priceless artifacts of all kinds.

"What the fuck? I knew the Emrys were rich, but what the fuck? A vault?" I'm genuinely too bewildered to feel awe struck as I scoop a ruby the size of an egg off the ground. I literally could have paid off my college debt with this thing in my past life and it's just chilling on the floor in a fucking castle. Exasperated, I chuck the thing at the giant pile in the middle, causing a small sparkly avalanche.

Only the treasure doesn't stop moving.

I watch, adrenaline spiking once again as something rises from the center, frozen in fear as the figure towers near endlessly towards the far off ceiling.

And then, in a low, rumbling voice, it speaks.

I don't think anyone could blame me for responding by screaming my lungs out. What the hell else are you supposed to do when you meet a bloody talking dragon?

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