107 Freedom of Flight
"NIEVE!" Harry shouts as he and Kali return from Britain, back to the treehouse where the demon horse of darkness incarnate and maybe also death awaited him... Too much? Probably... Regardless, he quickly ran and intercepted the horse with a hug, jumping up and wrapping his arms around its neck as it releases a low pleasant grumble.
"How are you girl? Have the servants been treating you right? You haven't felt anything off after the ritual?" he babbles after scrambling up onto her neck and petting her bird-like snout.
Nieve snorts and shakes her head, causing her pitch-black mane to slap him straight in the face. She continues to wave her head around while trotting in a circle, leaving green fiery imprints of her hooves on the ground.
"Why are you never this excited when we meet, Master?" Kali 'moodily' inquires.
"Because Nieve's awesome!" he retorts, prompting the Thestral to pridefully raise its head, "Besides, I can ride her-, and I'm not letting you princess carry me."
"Oh master, there's more than one meaning to the word 'ride', I'll display it for you in the near future." she lasciviously promises. "Why don't you take your steed flying? I'll prepare us for our journey to Italy in the meantime."
He nods, "Come on Nieve, show me how fast you can go!"
Nieve rear back and whinnies before launching herself forwards, reaching eighty miles an hour so quickly that Harry was barely able to hold on to her neck. Then, she leaps into the sky, her large black wings flapping and forcing them high up into the air. "WOOOOOOAAAAHHHHH!!!"
Harry had almost lost his enthusiasm during his first broom flying lesson, but it was apparent to him that that wasn't a true representation of it. Despite barely holding on for dear life during the acceleration, once he stabilised and sat comfortably on Nieve's back the sensation of freedom was astounding.
Some quick spells kept the wind off and the cold away, allowing them to ascend even above the clouds, allowing him to see the treehouse and much of the landscape in his territory. Was it weird that he felt the sudden urge to jump?
"Hey, Nieve, wanna play tag?" he asks before pushing himself backwards and into freefall.
"Hahahaha! This is sooo fucking cool!" he screams as he plummets to the ground below. He manoeuvres himself around to look up, spotting Nieve running through the air to try and recover him.
He cackles and manipulates the wind around him to speed off in another direction, prompting the Thestral to snort out green flames in irritation and follow, wings flapping hard.
"You're so slow! Come on!"
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Kali and Nanthisk stare at the sky as two black dots circle each other, seemingly uncaring as they get closer and closer to the ground... "I am feeling less willing to help him acquire flight..." she remarks.
"Flying isss overrated." Nanthisk declares.
"Maybe, but you likely think the same for walking. Snakes truly are the most pitiful of species."
"What use are legsss, we are jussst as fassst as the ressst of you."
She shakes her head, "Live in your fantasies, I will not hold you in contempt of it. I would also seek absolution if I were you." she says before walking away.
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The next morning Harry was up and bright-eyed at sunrise. Today they'd be heading to Italy, but before that he'd be paying a visit to their captured mountain troll. He'd been planning to experiment on it but that'd been set back after he'd planned the vacation.
The troll itself had been imprisoned in the centre of the village in some stone stocks inscribed with demonic runes to keep it in place. The thing was too big to keep inside any of the current buildings, and Kali wasn't letting the smelly bastard live in the tree house, plus the servants needed access to it to help take care of it.
Sure, the few Imps running around that he'd stolen from Hogwarts could do it instead, but they were more useful in helping look after magical plants, animals, etc. The servants could feed the troll and shovel its shit.
"So, has it been any trouble?" he asks but pauses and looks at Panya who had her hands wrapped up in bandages. "Did it bite you?"
"Ah, no..." she shakes her head, "I made a mistake watering one of Mistress' plants and she ordered me to clean the beast's manure with my hands. We did not know it was toxic to the skin..."
Harry shrugs at that, "So it's your fault, got it. As for my original question?"
"It struggled the first couple of days, but it's given up now." she states, anxiously rubbing her bandages hands together.
He idly nods and approaches it, he tries to cut at its leg with a dagger he'd taken from one of the tribesmen but it's barely about to pierce the skin. With that failing, he summons some roots from the blood oak his treehouse was built and manipulates it into a short, strong, sharp knife.
A slash at the troll's leg later and blood runs, spattering against the floor as the wound almost instantaneously heals... So the wizards weren't lying, high magic resistance, strength, and an incredible healing factor, these things would've taken over the earth if they weren't just so fucking stupid.
"Hear that you big oaf?" he looks up at the drooling troll, "You're stupid but you have your uses. Survive til the summer and I'll have more time to spare you. Well, 'spare' isn't the right word."
His current thoughts were to inject its blood into some of the servants to see the effects, if they don't immediately die then the next step would be grafting its flesh onto them... At best he could create magically resistant warriors with wolverine-like healing factors... At worst some people would die, but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make.
He snorts to himself at the thought.
The troll grunts at him, "Humie..."
Shrugging, Harry stabs the white wood dagger into its leg and looks to Panya, "Leave it there, so if its body will push it out or not." he says before exiting, headed to Kali so they could apparate to Italy.
