Dark Undercurrents - The Yellow Warlock!!!

15 hours back, midnight

Just as the White Serpent Pirates disapparated from the Azkaban's graveyard, with the help of Lilith, something grand was happening in the 14th chamber; something dark and chilling.

In the cavernous chamber full of despair and death, the 13th pike of sealing crumbled.

The figure, suspended upside down on the block, slid down, falling on the mossy rocks with a thump.

An inhuman groan reverberated in the surroundings.

"Ha... ha!" a snarling, broken laugh followed the groan. "Ha... haha... ha!"

The figure stood up and all the darkness gathered onto it, becoming a black robe. When it opened its eyes, they glowed red.

Lord of Azkaban, the first Horcrux of Herpo the Foul, an Inferi… The dark wizard, Ekrizdis, was free again.

His face was stark white, like a corpse. Here and there were patches of rot behind his cheeks and neck, but the face was relatively clean. His head lacked hair and was marred with scars.

Ekrizdis cocked his head as if he was listening to someone. He fell to his knees. -My Lord,- he hissed, his head down. -What is thy bidding?-

Death's command entered directly into the soul of Horcrux.

-3 years?!- Ekrizdis screamed, filling the dark corners with slithering hisses. -Why must I wait for 3 years, my lord?-

Another command. The Inferi's figure shook as if shocked by a high-voltage current.

-Pardon… my lord,- Ekrizdis whimpered. -Yes. I will need a wand. What must I do meanwhile?-

One word.

Search.

Now that brought out a rotten grin on Ekrizdis' face, his eyes gleaming red. -I understand.-

The Inferi stood up and took a deep breath, even if he needed none. Then he looked up as if he could see through the 13 chambers and beyond them, and his grin widened.

With a crack, he disapparated.

At the same moment, dozens of figures apparated in the graveyard, surrounded by dense fog and coldness.

At the head of this group was Madam Villanelle, her face full of worry… and fear. She was surrounded by 15 figures, wearing dark robes and a white mask. At the top of those white masks, there was a seven-petaled lotus, with each petal colored differently; all colors of the rainbow.

The Order of Immortal Lotus!

"Secure the place!" Madam Villanelle commanded. "Let no one approach this grave."

The figures rushed and began casting spells, concealing the immediate surroundings.

Madam Villanelle took out a white glowing globe and instantly melted into the grave. She exited from the entrance into the circular hall full of Billywigs.

Ignoring the magical creatures, Madam Villanelle spun and eyed the slab of rock which acted as the entrance. The moment she saw the 13 dark marbles and the hilt of a sword embedded there, her face fell, losing all color. "Oh, no! How…"

The Billywigs buzzed, but none approached her. Shockingly, the buzzing felt cheerful, if anything.

With a stupendous hurry, she ran toward the 1st chamber, holding the white globe. The door opened by itself.

Madam Villanelle kept going deeper and deeper, noticing the destruction. With each chamber, the level of destruction shocked her to the core. With each chamber, her heartbeat rose by several times.

But it was only when she saw the craters in the last 3 chambers, one deeper than the other, did she realized how illogical a duel must have happened here.

"Just who came…" Madam Villanelle worded, in awe, anger, and anxiety.

Steeling her heart, and gripping her wand, the reincarnated biblical witch entered the 14th chamber.

What she saw made her stumble back. She had hoped that even if the 13 pikes of sealing had crumbled, the block itself would have been enough to keep sealing the monster.

No. Gone. Everything was gone.

She released several spells, hoping to catch the weakened monster. But it was all in vain, she knew.

The darkest of monsters was released into the wizarding world. And now it was roaming free. Who knew where and upon whom it would unleash its anger?

The dark possibilities of this event unnerved Madam Villanelle, her back drenched in sweat. "Merlin…" she mumbled, gulping. "… I must confer with Merlin."

It was just that Merlin had entered hibernation. By the time he would come out, it would already be over. No. She must not wait and return to Avalon. She must find a way to wake him up.

But first, she must know who were the perpetrators behind all this, for this was no work of a single wizard.

In the back of her mind, one name screamed itself, repeatedly.

Voldemort!

No one else knew about this place, other than Voldemort and Dumbledore. But even the Dark Lord couldn't control or reason with the monster who was sealed here. So they had never been worried about it.

Now Madam Villanelle must rethink their reasoning, preparing for dire consequences, regardless.

Full of anger and concern, the witch returned to the circular hall at the beginning of the chambers. Madam Villanelle gritted her teeth and walked to the center of the hall. With a wave of her wand, a grimoire materialized over her head, black fog seeping out of it like smoke.

The third part of the Daemonologie, In Forme of a Dialogue!

It was part of the legendary book that contained secrets of innumerable magical creatures, demons, and devils.

The grimoire parted from the middle, its pages flapping left and right.

An eerie blue and black glow emanated from the book. In the next moment, all the Billywigs buzzing in the witch's surroundings exploded, becoming smoke.

The cloud of smoke hurled and got sucked into the grimoire.

"Let's see who dared release the monster."

When she had gotten the grimoire, Madam Villanelle had released these magical creatures into this hall, hoping to use them to spy on intruders. She dared not release any remarkable or powerful creature, making the intruders kill it. The dead creature would have become smoke on the spot, alerting the intruders.

A moderately harmful, but non-fatal, magical creature like Billywig was perfect. Who cared about it? Who worried about it? And who feared it?

The grimoire released another puff of smoke, which took the shape of a dark screen. Colors began materializing on the screen and soon the colors gathered, becoming shapes.

The grimoire could show anything seen by the "Billywigs" in the last year.

Madam Villanelle waited and waited, fast-forwarding the images on the screen. Nothing appeared on the screen, though.

How was this possible? She wondered, gobsmacked.

The more time passed, the more her shock intensified. Was it possible? Could someone have cleared all the chambers in a month?

But the last month arrived and almost ended as well.

Now almost horrified, Madam Villanelle planted her eyes on the screen, hoping never to see what was coming next.

But even she couldn't stop the inevitable.

The entrance to the 1st chamber opened on the screen, and a dark silhouette appeared beyond it.

The silhouette stepped forward and entered the circular hall, letting the light of several torches fall upon it.

It was a tall, manly figure, wearing a yellow robe, its face hidden behind the drooping hood.

It didn't as much walk as it flew over the grounds.

Madam Villanelle looked at the yellow-robed figure with bated breath, her face devoid of any color. Then she saw it.

A steely flash. The sword.

The figure took out the Excalibur replica and slammed into the main entrance.

Madam Villanelle felt like the figure had thrust the sword into her, transcending the limitations of space and time, through the screen.

She stumped back, and the screen broke, returning to the grimoire.

Madam Villanelle walked out of the main entrance, appearing in the graveyard. For several moments, she stood there, her gaze lost.

Then she snapped out of it. This was no time for sulking, she knew. This was the time for action. A great evil had been released upon the world.

And things had just taken the worst turn possible.

"Double the security in Azkaban," she commanded. "I want every sleeper active, searching for anything out of place; any hint of dark magic."

Two masked ones bowed toward her and disapparated.

Madam Villanelle took a deep breath and looked down at the grave, knowing that from here the robed perpetrator had exited, not even 15 minutes ago.

One perpetrator. Just one. The destruction she had seen in the chambers. The absurd level of cataclysmic magic.

Only one question remained in her mind, surpassing the danger of Dark Lord Ekrizdis.

One question that roughened her breath.

Who was that Yellow Warlock?

 *************

AN: Break Tomorrow

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