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Chapter Text

OFFICIAL DECLARATION OF LAW 

TREATY OF NOMAAD 

FROM THIS YEAR ONWARDS

• Nomaad will be ruled by a Council of Royals from each Kingdom. No decision shall be made to be in effect until the majority votes upon it for the sake of the people. 

• The Council shall comprise one representative per one million population from each Kingdom. 

• One Kingdom’s representative in every Council will lead amongst the Council itself. 

• The Council will be made redundant every twenty five years, a new group of rulers stepping up to take the place of representatives. 

• To decide on the representatives, every twenty five years, there will commence a Tournament. Each Kingdom may offer one champion per one million population, chosen by whatever means decided by each Kingdom. 

• The Tournament will comprise of Five trials, testing each core value of leading the Council. 

• Champions will be given points according to how well they do on each trial. 

• Whichever Champion amasses the most amount of points by the end will rule the Council until the time has passed in their reign. 

• Once the tournament has proceeded, the new Council and new rulers of every Kingdom will take effect on the same day in one year. 

• No Champions will be allowed to train beforehand

• Only the Council leader will know what awaits in the trials. 

• Whichever Kingdom's champion is named head of the Council will also receive all land and resources of the neutral Kingdom of Nomaad to do with as they wish until the time has passed on their reign. This excludes abusing power in order to destabilise Nomaad. 

• If a representative on the council dies within the time of ruling, no decisions can be made until a suitable replacement is found. 

SIGNED

Queen Rowena Ravenclaw of  Slythean

King Godric Gryffindor of Everyly

Lady Helga Hufflepuff of Ophelian

King Salazar Slytherin of Addeatia

DATE: 30/6/1506

SIGNED AFTER THE  WAR OF THE CENTURIES

King Merlin of Lunar

King Nicholas Flamel of Dralasis

Emperor Gellert Grindelwald of Ruepen

DATE: 14/12/1647

SIGNED AFTER THE TREATY OF FOUNDING KINGDOMS

Queen Minerva of Peovently

Lord Rosier of Galya

King Riddle of Zannier

DATE: 05/01/1715

Chapter Text

All following words have been translated to modern text by Princess Kilia Potter of Everly, descendant of the Ancient Potter family. This work is an amalgamation of the events of The Elemental Wars, written through the first hand accounts of Prince James Potter of Everly and Prince Regulus Black of Addeatia. Everything that you are about to read is true. Names and true stories have been honored for all Final Champions, in order to preserve the memories of those now passed on. 

οι μύθοι των αστεριών και των ήλιων

LAST ENTRY FROM THE JOURNALS OF THE LATE KING JAMES POTTER 5/02/1785

It’s a funny thing; time.

 I think about it often, in my squalor. And remember, what it used to be. I don’t feel old, certainly not 85, but I guess that’s just the way life passes. I can hear it calling to me often now. Death. Peace. After all this time, I feel ready to go, to leave this kingdom, this continent, my people. I’ve lived a good life. A much longer life than those who deserved to live much more than me. 

To the people of Morlan (but more directly to my grandchildren), I leave this journal. A true and complete account of the Elemental Wars to be distributed throughout kingdoms. To be learned from. 

It is time for everyone to know the truth of who the statues were built of. Why they were built in the first place. The true sacrifices that were made for the war to end. What you learn in this journal will not destroy your image of me, I hope. All of us, all of the champions have lost and sacrificed. And I would not change it, not if I did it again. 

I hope that in generations to come this war will not be forgotten. That each Kingdom still keeps in mind the lessons we learnt in fighting it, and never forget the strength we gained by ending it. 

In time, the statues will crumble, the palaces will become ruin. The names, and the details will be long forgotten. And we ourselves, the Final Champions, will be changed from mere people to heroes. We were not heroes, we were not chosen ones, but time will shape our feats to be those of gods. 

I hope you remember us, Morlan. But once enough time has passed, you may let us go, to be truly at rest. Forgotten, amongst the stars, as we once wanted to shine brightly amongst them. 

• King James Potter

As the carriage rustled through the streets of Nomaad, James stared out the frosted, gold-lined window. Leaning back on the ruby velvet seats, he watched the crowds of people around the carriage. Unlike Everly, the people in Nomaad were of all kinds of ethnicities, young and old, most of them dirty and thin with hunger. James could also see a lot of different eye colours, unlike the shining molten gold that was so common in Everly. His mother, sitting next to him, hissed through her teeth as James caught sight of a small boy on the side of the street, barely six years old, whose arms were as thin as sticks. 

“Mom,” James turned to her, beseeching with his eyes. Effie sighed, placing a hand on his knee. Her golden eyes, identical to James’s, met with James’s father, Monty. His father frowned out the window, his golden crown heavy above his white hair. King Fleamont and Queen Euphmia were the very picture of what royalty should be, both with delicate golden crowns embedded with ruby jewels. Monty was wearing his golden armour, etched with dragon scales and water droplets, carved armor personalized to him as King. A red cape was draped over his shoulders, perfectly highlighting his dark skin and golden eyes. The picture of Everlian strength, even in his older age. Effie was just as old, but still beautiful, her dark hair pulled into a bun with strips of silver amongst the curls. She hadn’t worn her full armour, only the golden feathered shoulder pads over her maroon and scarlet dress. 

“We can’t, James,” Effie said soberly, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the dirt on the streets. “It’s not our territory. You know how Nomaad works. It’s Riddle’s jurisdiction until this tournament is over.”

“It’s not right,” James sighed, watching an older woman curl up in a doorway, shivering in the cold. 

“There’s nothing we can do, son,” Monty said, his face stone cold. The carriage jostled up the road, James watching up the road as they got closer and closer to the castle. He frowned, watching people’s expressions outside change as they saw the golden carriage. Slowly but surely, a small crowd had formed around the sides of the street, watching the carriage go by and waving. James smiled out the window, waving to citizens as they drove. 

Not a hint of royalty or magic amongst any of them, all the citizens dressed in ragged, thin clothing with dirt on their faces. James knew that there were magical people within Nomaad, but there didn’t seem to be anyone in the crowd who seemed to have power. Magic was mostly genetic, and since it was becoming increasingly contained to just royals, only about thirty percent of the whole population had magic, and even less had a strong gift. Magical people usually had a kind of aura around them, something that people with magic could usually sense. There wasn’t anyone except-

An older man was looking out a window, on the second story of an old wooden building. His long white beard and hair shone in the sun, bright blue eyes shining behind golden glasses. His clothes were less ragged than the others, a dark brown cloak and hood over a lighter tunic. In a flash, the old man met James’ eyes, smiled, then turned away, pulling his hood up to cover his hair as the old man turned away. James furrowed his brow, trying to see where the man had gone, but the carriage had begun to move into the castle, the thick sand coloured brick walls obscuring the view of the decrepit houses of the city. The large black gates of the tournament grounds slid shut after their carriage slipped past, the sound of the thick iron sliding into place loud enough that James could hear it even through the door of the carriage. 

Finally, gods. It was by no means a short ride from Everly, especially since, unlike some of the other kingdoms, Everly had no native magical creatures to use to get around. James did not doubt that the champions and rulers from Ophelian would be arriving on their Griffins, and according to rumors, the two champions from Addeatia might be arriving on their Kingdom's elusive wryvens. Everly used to be home to dragons, but they had been wiped out in the War of the Centuries. Oh, and of course, depending on who the champion was from Ruepen, they may have wings, as some did in Ruepen, although most had been moved down to the lower social circles within the kingdom, often servants or slaves. Wings, like magic in the other kingdoms, were genetic. The more powerful your parents were, the more likely you were to be strong in power. James was pretty sure that at least the two champions from Addeatia would have parents who had been strategically married together to produce powerful children. 

The carriage finally rumbled to a stop after a few minutes of driving within the tournament grounds, and James unlatched the door, opening it to let the warm Nomaad air sweep across his face. They were in a large courtyard, where James assumed that they would train. It was simple, but large enough for several carriages much larger than the Potter’s, with a towering willow tree in the corner. He breathed in a sigh, stepping down from the door and letting the wind soak into his skin. His power surged to meet the air, weaving through it, ready to be moulded to his will. Turning, James helped his mother down from the carriage, a twinge of sadness hitting him. His parents would be staying for the tournament, but after the induction ceremony, they would be removed from the grounds to wait in a Nomaad encampment until a winner was decided, to ensure no unfair play. 

“Well, it seems like we are not the first to arrive,” Monty said, a wide grin spreading over the King’s face. He nodded to the corner of the courtyard, where two women were speaking. James recognised one as a Queen, her long dark hair coiled behind a gold crown. Her long teal and purple robes were furnished with peacock feathers and gold details that shimmered in the light. James followed his Father as they walked over to the Queen. James smiled, bowing down and kissing the underside of the woman’s wrist, an Everlian sign of respect. “Minerva,” Monty said, nodding. Queen Minerva smiled back, her green-gold eyes glistening like a cat’s as she watched James. 

“Minerva, it’s been too long,” Effie smiled, embracing the woman. “James, this is Queen Minerva, from Peovently. Minerva, this is my son, Prince James of Everly.” Ahh, Peovently. It was a new kingdom, formed into existence with the updating of the Treaty of Nomaad. It was a new sanctuary, Queen Minerva being the first ruler of the all-female kingdom. She had decreed that no man would ever step foot in the kingdom for any reason, as it would be a sanctuary for any woman, especially those who had faced abuse at the hands of a man. 

“James.” Minerva nodded, her face sharp. She gestured to the woman next to her. “This is the Peovently champion, Lily Evans.” Evans. Because Peovently had no men, their champion could not be a daughter, and would instead be chosen by the Queen. And James could see why Lily had been chosen. She was beautiful, with bright green eyes and long eyelashes, with a pale, freckled face that seemed to radiate kindness. Her hair was a bright, stunning red with twines of gold that shimmered in the sunlight, and she wore blue silk robes that moved in the wind like waves in the ocean. Without any obvious indicators like golden eyes, James could not tell what Kingdom she was originally from, although the pale skin suggested Galya. 

“Hi,” James grinned, extending a hand to Lily. “I’m James, from Everly.” Lily smiled prettily, holding her hand out for James to kiss. Although she seemed fine, there were shadows in her eyes as she surveyed James, but he decided not to press. 

“Ah, my favourite rulers!” A voice called from the edge of the courtyard. James glanced back to see one of the few rulers he had actually met before entering the courtyard. As Lunar was one of Everly’s biggest allies, James had met King Lyle a few times before, along with his son, Prince Remus. James had always assumed that Remus would be the champion for Lunar, and although the official choices for the champions were never shared beforehand, James could see he had been right. Remus grinned widely at him, and James met his hug as the two collided. Remus was wearing a long jacket of dark brown velvet, embroidered with golden threaded vines and moons, with matching pants and a small golden crown in his messy brown hair. Three scars crossed his face close to one of his chocolate brown eyes, something that James had never asked him about, and Remus had never told him, even in their long nights spent on the roof of one of their palaces watching the stars as their parents had meetings. Remus was also the only person whom James knew for sure what he was getting into in regards to magic. As the champions were secret, so were the potential champions and royal children's power forms. Even princes like James had their power forms hidden from the kingdoms from their birth, excluding, of course, the trainers that got them through the basics of handling their magic. It was forbidden within the rules of the tournament for champions to be trained beforehand, although that meant for kingdoms where the champions were selected instead of born, they naturally had a bit of an advantage. Remus’s magic manifested in a powerful form of telekinesis, his dark blue-purple power, the shifting colour of the night sky, able to lift and manipulate the objects around him just like James could manipulate the wind. 

“Potter,” Remus grinned, breaking apart from James to ruffle his hair with a wolfish grin. 

“Lupin. Looking splashy. New suit?” 

“Sure. New cape?”

James grinned, spinning his ruby cape around him flashily. 

“Boys,” Effie said sharply, her change in tone cutting through the air and stopping Monty and Lyle’s chatter. James followed her gaze up, and his blood chilled. Circling above the courtyard were two Griffins, and above them, two massive Wryvens. The rulers on top of the creatures seemed to be talking, the creatures circling one another before the Griffins broke off, spiraling down towards the courtyard. “Looks like our friends from Ophelian and Addeatia have arrived.”

Addeatia. James pinned his eyes on the silver and blue Wryvens, who were continuing to circle and wait until the Griffins landed. Addeatia and Everly had been at odds for a long time, since even the first formation of the kingdoms. Recently, there had been no direct opposition between the kingdoms, but instead, Zannier had been the biggest threat, with King Riddle in control of Nomaad; recently, his grip had tightened in a way that the other nations could not ignore. But James had always been curious about Addeatia, after all, it was right next to Everly, with its towering pine trees and heavy snowfalls. The kingdom was notoriously secretive, though, and its kingdom border was reinforced with magic-infused ice to never melt or break unless under incredibly high magical pressure. James had never met anyone from Addeatia, even though they were bringing two champions due to their huge population. It was odd that the Ophelians had been talking to them for so long, as an extremely neutral Kingdom, it was strange for them to be conversing so heavily with Addeatia, which, alongside Zannier and Ruepen, was very much considered a darker, more dangerous kingdom. 

The Griffins touched down, their golden and white feathers shining in the sunlight as they landed. The King and Queen of Ophelian were on one, a beautiful dark dark-skinned couple wearing long white robes and golden  wheat-like crowns. On the other Griffin was a woman and many large saddlebags of items for the royals’ stay. The woman hopped off the Griffin, her white sleeveless tunic and pants embroidered with the same golden vines and leaves that her crown was, sitting on her dark pin curls. She turned her dark, slanted eyes towards Remus and James, then smiled, heading over. Upon her arms were golden bands, curling vines that ended in bunches of small flowers. She smiled harshly, more of a grimace, as she looked both Remus and James up and down. 

“Princess Mary of Ophelian. Uh-uh, let me guess,” she said, pointing her finger at the boys as Remus opened his mouth. “You don’t need to tell me. Prince Remus and Prince James. Lunar and Everly.” Turning her eyes to Lily, she smiled, raising a single thick eyebrow. “You, I don’t know, but I’d like to.” Lily exchanged a smile with a similar danger, something that didn’t quite feel right on her kind face.

“The notion is reciprocated. Lily Evans. Peovently.”

“You were talking to the Addeatian champions,” James asked, casting his eyes to the sky. He met Mary’s eyes, an unspoken question passing to her. 

“I was,” Mary said slowly, her brows furrowing. Now that the Griffins had moved to under the covered part of the courtyard, the wyverns were landing, large, deadly beasts with three-foot-long claws and scales each the size of James’s hand. Dismounting from the stormy blue wyvern were two people, a man and a woman, and dismounting from the silver one were two young men, both looking like they couldn’t have a care in the world. Mary moved closer to James, speaking quietly as she pointed to the rulers. “That’s King Lucius, with Lady Walburga. King Lucius is married, but he’s young, and his wife, Narcissa, hasn’t produced an heir yet, so he had to pick his extended family for his champions. That’s Lady Walburga, his wife’s aunt. She’s got a lot of sway in Addeatia, there was a lot of dispute when Lucius inherited the throne over her husband, Orion. And that,” Mary sighed. “Sirius and Regulus Black. Sirius is the older one; he’s twenty-five, but Regulus is only a year younger. As far as I know, Sirius has been trying to get out of Addeatia for a long time, so he’s probably thrilled to be a champion just so he can get out. Regulus, however… If either of them win, it’ll be Regulus. He’s fucking  deadly, I heard he’s killed with his magic before.” 

James nodded, frowning. It was well known that Addeatia intensively trained their champions before sending them to the tournament, no matter how illegal that may be. King Lucius was a severe-looking man, in a black cape with pointed shoulders, his long platinum blonde hair flowing down his back. Lady Walburgalburga was dressed in a similar fashion, albeit in a dress, her dark hair streaked with white in a tight bun. James was just about to ask Mary where she was getting this information when his eyes slid to the champions, and his heart stopped. 

Leaning against the Wryven’s wing were two of the most attractive men James had ever seen. Remus, judging by the way his throat hitched, seemed to feel the same. 

The shorter man was grinning widely, bracing his arms above his head and basking in the sun, his silver satin shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal a glimpse of a tattooed chest, and tight pants laced in silver snakes. His hair was dark, long and slightly curled, lying over his shoulders and falling across his face gracefully. James had to assume he was Sirius. The rebel son. He was hot, no doubt about that, with a kind of dangerous aura, especially as he turned towards them and his bright blue eyes glittered in the sun like flickering flames, running a hand back through his hair, but James’ eyes were drawn to the other champion. 

Regulus. His eyes were like shards of glass, the palest silvery-blue as they slid towards the group and locked onto James’. 

He was the most beautiful man James had ever seen. Not handsome. Beautiful. Like a star, or a jewel. Something hidden but shining.   

All pale skin and meticulously styled dark curls, Regulus wore a deep black suit, and unlike Sirius, there was no embroidery on any of his clothes, making him look extremely dangerous. He wore several silver rings on his long fingers, and a small silver ornamental snake was curling around his wrist. 

“How do you know all this?” Lily asked Mary softly, her green eyes also pinned on Regulus. 

“Ophelian is a kingdom of trade,” Mary said. “And information is a powerful form of payment.”

Remus sniffed, and James broke eye contact with Regulus to follow Remus’s eyeline to where Sirius had stepped away from the Wryven and was making his way over to them. He walked with impressive swagger, hands in his pockets. 

“Lord Black,” Mary said as he approached, grinning at him. 

“Princess…?”

“Mary, from Ophelian.” 

“Ah, of course. Ophelian. I knew I recognised the wheat crown.” 

Mary smiled, her eyes narrowing as she sized Sirius up. He grinned, turning to Remus, Lily, and James. 

“And you all?”

“Lily Evans,” Lily said, “From Peovently.” 

“Remus Lupin, Lunar.” Remus said, smiling in a way that showed his sharp canines. Sirius winked at him. 

“I’m James Potter,” James said. “From Everly.”

“James!” Effie called, waving her hand to gesture towards him towards the exit of the courtyard. The rulers were beginning to move inside, towards the main building where the barracks and some training rooms were.  

“From Everly?” Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Well, it looks like you’re my new best friend.” He grinned, a real grin this time, and James grinned back, unable to help it. 

“Sure thing, Black,” James said, knocking Sirius’s shoulder with his own. The group started to follow the rulers into the stone building, light filtering in through the window slats. The rulers headed into a room off to the left, through dark, heavy doors, shutting them behind them. 

“Our dorms are up ahead,” Lily said softly, gesturing to the hallway before them. James glanced at the door through which his parents had disappeared, then back at the hall. Sirius was smirking back at Regulus, who was reluctantly following them. “We should find them.”

“Alright,” Remus said. “It doesn’t look like they’ll be coming out anytime soon. Probably having an informal council meeting as we speak.”

“Sounds like my parents,” James grinned, following Lily down the hallway. Sirius laughed, falling into step with James. 

“So, James. How’s Everly? I’ve only ever been a few metres from the place, despite my best efforts.” 

“Your best efforts?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said bitterly. “Apparently, that wall is as impenetrable from the inside as it is from the outside.”

“Ah,” James said, his grin widening. “That makes sense.”

“Come on, boys, your bunks are-” Mary stopped, staring at the single door at the end of the hallway. “Huh. It looks like there’s only…” Mary pushed open the door to show a huge, stone room. There was no decoration and only small windows at the very top of the ceiling. Thirteen small single beds were placed in perfect formation around the room, each with a trunk at the end and simple grey bedding. 

“I guess we’re all together,” Remus sighed. 

“Dibs!” Sirius yelled, leaping onto the bed in the furthest right corner. Silently, Regulus slunk over to the bed on the closest left corner, as far from Sirius as he could get. Lily and Mary walked to the other right corner, finding a pair of beds and sitting on them, claiming. James sat upon the bed next to Sirius, who grinned up at him widely. Remus claimed the bed below Sirius, a wolfish look in his eyes. The air swept around James, through his hair and across his skin. Subtly, James shaped the air with his hands, moving it over the bedspread to sweep off the dust and move it to the floor. Awkwardly, Remus swept the dust off his bed, then turned towards the other silent champions. 

“Well, this feels… personal,” Lily muttered.  

“I can help with that,” Mary grinned, standing. “There are five girls, right?”

“I think so,” Remus said. 

Mary raised her hands, focusing on the space between the beds. Slowly, a rumbling grew in the ground, dust stirring, and the beds clattering. James’s eyes widened, watching as the stone from the ground burst upwards, forming a wall between the girls and James, Remus, and Sirius. Remus yelped, jumping backwards off of his bed as the wall broke the edge off of his bed. The walls hit the ceiling, shivered, and then held, making a permanent separation between the now small rooms. James was now sitting in a small room with three full beds and Remus’s, which was missing the backboard. Four beds and a doorway that led to a continuation of the hallway. 

“Holy shit.” Sirius breathed, eyes wide as he ran a hand down the new wall. Remus blinked at it, then turned to James. 

“I guess Mary’s power manifests Earth,” 

“Yeah.” James breathed. Fuck. An earth manifester who was clearly powerful. James was powerful, yes, but had only received basic handling training. He had nowhere near the amount of control that Mary had just used. She had also clearly been trained somewhat more than James, and would be hard to beat. James wasn’t sure if any other kingdoms respected the treaty value that said no training before the tournament. Remus was a different matter. James knew he had gotten extra training, but his power had a lot to do with his mental state, and was very internally destructive if left unattended. If Remus didn’t keep a tight grip on his magic, he could kill himself from the inside out.

Sirius leapt off his bed, striding out of the room and into the hallway. Remus and James glanced at each other then followed, making it into the hallway in time to see Sirius turning into where the girls’ room now was. 

“You’re an Earth manifest?” Sirius exclaimed, eyes spreading widely. 

“Yeah,” Mary said, her eyes narrowing dangerously. 

“A damn powerful one at that,” Lily grinned, offering Mary a high five. Mary took it, smiling. 

“Is this the girl's room?” A soft voice said from the doorway. James turned to see a pale, short girl standing in the doorway. Her long, white-blonde hair fell down her back in gentle waves, pinned with hairclips to show her light freckles and pale green eyes. Her round cheeks were slightly pink, and her slender eyebrows had a rather soft look of constant surprise. She was dressed in a style that James recognised, a traditional Galya dress of white opal silk with silver vine and flower detailing along the waist. She wore a matching silver circlet upon her hair and several silver bangles around both wrists. “I’m Pandora. From Galya. Wow, did you do these walls?” 

Mary smiled, holding out a hand to beckon Pandora. 

“I did. Hey.” 

Pandora smiled, taking Mary’s hand and sitting delicately on the bed next to hers. Pandora was gripping Mary’s hand tightly, her eyes slowly beginning to glow with white light. 

“Woah. Woah, what are you doing?” Lily said, standing abruptly. Pandora didn’t answer, her eyes shifting around the room as if she was looking at something none of the rest of them could see. Silently, Pandora took a deep breath, then blinked, the white light vanishing from her eyes. 

“Sorry,” Pandora smiled softly. “I’m a seer, and whenever I touch someone it’s just kind of automatic.”

“What?!” Sirius yelped excitedly. “That’s insane! So can you see all of our futures?” 

“Not quite,” Pandora said, her eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings. “It’s like… when I touch someone, I can see their immediate future. Only a few minutes. And I can’t change that. If I touch you and I can see the next few minutes there is nothing I can do to change it.”

“So if you touched my arm and saw I was going to die…” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“There would be nothing I could do to stop it,” Pandora said softly. “But in general terms… I can see hundreds of futures, some less predominant, and some stronger and more likely. Little decisions and changes change a lot.”

“That sounds… tiring,” Lily said slowly, her green eyes scanning over Pandora’s face.

“Sometimes,” Pandora said, brushing her hair back. “Sometimes yes, but I’ve gotten used to it.”

James leant against the wall, the bricks digging into his back. His head against the stone, James sent the wind skittering amongst the floor, moving the girls’ skirts and stirring up dust. He twisted his fingers a tiny bit, sending a soft, warm breeze into the other, third room where Regulus was. James let the wind dance in the room, feeling it move through everyone there, and smiled.

Chapter Text

The dining room was cold and dark, which was just how Regulus liked it. Everyone who had arrived so far was sitting, eating a grand dinner with their kingdoms, who had come in from the meeting room to call their champions for food. There were four long tables across the length of a spacious room, with a large stained window at the end, allowing multicolored shapes and lights to filter across the room. It was uncannily like the way light sparkled through ice, which was the only thing keeping Regulus calm at the present moment. 

“Regulus, are you listening?” His mother’s cold voice cut into his head like a vise. Regulus could feel his mother’s magic probing at his mind, pressing against his mental walls. 

“Yes, mother,” Regulus drawled, picking at his food. Every place setting had been set when they walked in, with bowls and platters of food from every kingdom in the middle of the tables. Regulus hadn’t taken much; he didn’t need a lot, just a few scoops of rice from Ophelian and pieces of warm, sauce-covered chicken. 

“I expect you to win this competition,” Walburga said, her eyes drilling into his head. “Your kingdom expects you to win this competition.”

“Wow, Mom,” Sirius snorted, digging into his chicken leg like a dog. “Thanks for the faith in me.”

“Your role here is not to win,” Their mother snarled. She grabbed Sirius’s wrist, digging her nails into his skin. “Stop eating your food like a dog boy, or you’re coming back to Addeatia, tournament or no.”

Sirius frowned, tearing his wrist away and leaving red lines of blood across his skin. Walburgalbulga smiled sharply, then began to talk softly to Lucius. Regulus looked away from Sirius, scanning the rest of the room. All of the kingdoms that had already arrived before the bedroom were of no interest to Regulus, as he had already analysed them. Ophelian, Everly, Lunar, and Peovently. Uninteresting. 

Evan had arrived next, an old friend of Regulus’s on account of Galya being the only kingdom that, because Galya was extremely peaceful and a source of the oracles’ prophecies, Regulus had been able to visit. Evan and his twin, Pandora, were nice. Pandora was a bit of a kook, but she had the purest soul Regulus had ever met, so they had become close fast. Evan, however, was and would always be Regulus’s oldest friend. They had met when they were young and had spent many an hour running through the trees of Galya. Evan was the only person who knew Regulus was gay, and Regulus was the only person who knew Evan was the same. They had told one another after Regulus finally trusted Evan enough to show him his magic, and Evan had done the same, casting beautiful illusions throughout the air in many different colours, and then proceeded to vanish before Regulus’ eyes. 

Though they were both gay, neither Evan nor Regulus had ever felt any semblance of attraction to one another, which they had agreed on very solidly after telling each other how they felt. It wasn’t that Evan wasn’t attractive, with his height, his pale skin, short light blonde hair, pale blue-green eyes, and slim build, he was good-looking, but Regulus had never had a thing for him. He supposed they had known each other too long. And Evan had a bit of a crazy kink that Regulus just couldn’t fit.  

Since Evan, only one other kingdom had arrived, a single girl who had strolled in as if she owned the place, dressed in a long brown coat and a matching triangular hat, with knee-high boots and a white shirt and corset. Her hair was scruffy and shoulder-length, a kind of light blonde that was not as light as Pandora’s but not quite as dark as the pure gold strips in Lily’s hair. Regulus was also pretty sure that she was wearing charcoal around her electric blue eyes, which was damn iconic, and there was a pretty knife in her belt that he had been eyeing since she arrived. She was from Dralasis, the smuggler kingdom, where pirates roamed the seas. She was alone; no ruler came with her, but she claimed to be there on behalf of the Pirate King, so the rulers hadn’t questioned it. She had already, shockingly, revealed how her magic formed, sending small lightning bolts in between her fingers every time she fidgetted. It amazed Regulus how many competitors had already revealed how their magic manifested. One of the girls was an earth manifestor, this new one was lightning, and Pandora had already shown the others her vision gifts. Regulus knew Evan’s ability to turn invisible or spin illusions, and he obviously knew Sirius’s twisting fire magic almost as well as he knew his own. 

So Sirius, Evan, Pandora. Lily, Remus. Two girls he didn’t know the names of… and James. 

James Potter. The prince of Everly. Regulus’s born arch nemesis. Oddly, someone Regulus had seen before, although he was only now realising that it had been him. It was years ago, maybe three? Regulus had been beyond the wall in the dead of night. Of course, Sirius had never been able to figure out how to get past the magical barrier, but for Regulus, it had been simple; he had found a crack years prior. He had been exploring the mountains of Everly on the back of his Wryven, a small navy-blue-black scaled creature that Regulus had named Fatum. Perched on the cliff top across from the Everly palace, Regulus had been watching the lights of the castle flicker off as the night grew onward, studying the castle layout, when someone had appeared on the top balcony of the turret. It had been a young man, around Regulus’ age, with olive skin that shone in the moonlight. His hair was dark, windswept and messy, and Regulus had been able to dimly see glasses framing his face. Now, as Regulus stared at James, he drank in every detail that Regulus hadn’t been able to see all those years ago. James had golden, circular glasses that hid bright golden eyes with just the right amount of green and brown flecks in them. With a strong cheekbones, a straight nose and long fingers, James was fucking hot. And his smile? Gods be damned, Regulus was having a very hard time keeping his eyes off of him. 

Regulus ate a mouthful of the rice, washing it down with a drink of his ice water. There were only four champions who hadn’t arrived yet: two from Zannier, one from Slythean, and the last from Ruepen. They were the three kingdoms that Regulus knew Lucius and his mother were waiting for, Addeatia’s biggest allies. King Riddle of Zannier ruled over the Council of Morlan and had been running background deals with certain rulers for years. Lucius, along with the rulers of Slythean and Ruepen, Queen Bellatrix and King Rodolphus, had agreed to join the small alliance within the Council, using their sway to attempt to create a majority within the group. Queen Bellatrix and King Rodolphus had been in love, crazy, manic love, for years now, and Regulus knew that the Pirate King’s elusive nature and disguised identity were all that was stopping them from killing him and conquering the territory between their kingdoms. Well… speaking of which…. 

Queen Bellatrix of Slythean and King Rodolphus of Ruepen strode into the hall, Bellatrix wearing a huge black and green crown over her curls and a long, tight black dress with a huge mermaid style skirt at her ankles, the fabric made of what looked like black panther skin. She was widely known as a formidable fighter on the battlefield, one of the three sisters that had been raised in Addeatia. Bellatrix had married the old king of Slythean, before he had died within a month, leaving her as the sole ruler of the kingdom. Her sister, Narcissa, was King Lucius’s wife. There was a third, but Regulus supposed she wasn't relevant enough for him to know her. Sirius and Regulus hadn't interacted with them much, no matter that they had grown up technically cousins. King Rodolphus also had a large black crown on, only the gemstones draping down over his stony, sharp face were blood red rubies. He wore many heavy rings and a black, smooth suit complete with tails. Around Rodolphus’s waist was a slim, jet black snake, curling and slowly moving throughout Rodolphus’s clothes as a kind of sick belt. Regulus noted a large keyring on his snake with many large silver keys attached to it. Also coiled on the snake, Regulus saw with a flicker of disgust, was a black leather whip with a large metal tip, something that would easily cut through skin with enough force. 

Stalking behind Bellatrix was a stunning woman with dark ebony skin and long intricate braids that fell down her back like a waterfall. Her face was severe and pristine, with full lips and a sharp jaw. Objectively… stunning. She wore a tight pair of pants and ankle-high heeled boots, with a puffy-sleeved white shirt underneath a brown and green vest. Stopping behind Bellatrix, she stood, sinking into one hip as her dark, slender eyes surveyed the room, landing on the pirate girl. Slythean was a kingdom encased in jungle, so it made sense why the girl had a large bow carved in vines and trees over her shoulder and a golden quiver of sharp arrows in her belt, each arrow tipped with multicoloured parrot feathers. 

“Ah, Lucius,” Bellatrix purred, her and Rodolphus heading over towards them. Regulus caught Sirius’s eye, shaking his head in warning as Sirius frowned. The three sat down at the table, the new girl sitting right next to Regulus and turning her cat eyes onto him. “No Cissy?”

“The courtyard doesn’t fit more than two wryvens,” Lucius drawled. 

“I’m Dorcas,” the new girl said, smiling at Sirius and Regulus in a way that made Regulus instantly wary of her. “From Slythean. You two must be the Black brothers.”

“Sirius,” Sirius smirked. “I’m the handsome one.”

“I’m Regulus,” Regulus said, sighing as he rubbed his forehead in annoyance. He turned his eyes to Rodolphus. “Where’s your champion, your Majesty?”

“Interested in the competition, Black?” Rodolphus crooned, raising his eyebrows as he slipped his fingers around a golden wine goblet, raising it to his lips to drink. 

“Just want to see if there’s any familiar faces, Sir,” Regulus smiled, trying his best to keep his cold hatred out of his eyes.  

“Oh, well, I doubt my champion would be familiar to you, Black,” Rodolphus smirked. “He’s a fallen, a slave. But he was the strongest in the competition, so I brought him along. A perfect breeding, can you believe it? One of the ladies of my court, a manifestor, was ‘seduced’ by a slave man, so now the bastards got power as well as those disgustingly dirty wings. He’s still chained to the chariot. Oh, don’t worry,” Rodolphus said, misinterpreting Sirius’ disgusted face for fear. “I brought a pair of manacles he’ll wear throughout the tournament.”

Regulus’ stomach churned. Slavery was frowned upon in every kingdom except Ruepen, where it was actively a part of their society. Their land was originally home to a race of angels, humanoid in everything except for their large feathered wings, different from angel to angel. It was somewhere in the War of Centuries when manifestors invaded Ruepen, using their power to overrun and occupy Ruepen, keeping the angels, which they nicknamed ‘the fallen’, as slaves. The ideal still continued to this day, no matter how much Galya and Everly protested the conditions. Fallen were kept in horrific conditions, chained and beaten by owners, and in extreme cases, their wings were damaged or cut off entirely to stop protest, even though it was widely known that a fallen could only live so long after damage to their wings. As far as Regulus knew, it was against the law to ‘contaminate’ manifestor blood by producing children with the fallen, but evidently, there were still some that slipped through the cracks. As King Rodolphus didn’t have any heirs or any younger privileged family, like Bellatrix as well, he had to choose a champion, and it seemed he did the basic strategy of having whoever was strongest, or last standing after a fight, chosen. It was nothing of honour to be a champion for somewhere like Ruepen, no matter if you won, you would only be a puppet for Rodolphus. 

“Good,” Regulus said slowly, returning to his food in an attempt to escape the conversation. Sirius, however, wasn’t as subtle. 

“So you really aren’t going to bring him food?” Sirius snapped, fixing his fiery gaze on Rodolphus. 

“I think that’s my decision to make,” The King said slowly, danger simmering in his gaze. “Seeing as he’s my champion and all, Black.” 

“Sirius, apologize,” Walburga said, fixing her eyes on Sirius in demand. Regulus watched as his brother winced, no doubt their mother was dragging invisible claws across his mind. “Now.”

Sirius sat stubbornly, his mouth firmly shut. 

“Sirius,” Walburga said, practically snarling at her son. 

“Sirius,” Regulus said softly, catching his brother’s eyes in plea. Sirius sighed dramatically, tipping his head backwards. 

“Fine,” he said, speaking as he stood from the table, letting a few flickers of flame wreath their way through his fingertips. “I’m sorry, Rodolphus. I’d heard rumours, but I guess you’re every bit as iron-gripped as the stories suggest.”

Only Regulus seemed to realise that Sirius was being sarcastic. But his brother walked away before any of the rulers caught on, discreetly flipping the table off as he went. Regulus placed his fork down on his plate, his appetite gone, as Sirius promptly sat down next to James and his family, picking up and joining in their conversation. 

A cold silence grew at their table. 

---

Regulus was in the middle of setting up his bed to sleep when Evan appeared, falling softly onto the bed he had claimed, next to Regulus’. 

“I can see your mind working,” Evan said quietly, his pale eyes scanning over Regulus’ face. “What do you think?”

“About what, Evan?” Regulus sighed. “My bed?”

“Alright, sarcastic,” Evan said. “The competition, no shit.”

“I don’t know,” Regulus said. “Sirius was an ass at dinner. What do you think?”

“They’re interesting,” Evan said, mulling it over carefully. “I guess-”

The sound of chains filled the hallway, stopping him short. Rodolphus entered their small room, smiling cruelly as he spotted Regulus. 

“Ahhh, Prince Black. I’ve got a roommate for you.” In Rodolphus’ hands, to Regulus’ disgust, was the end of a chain which he tugged on, leading into the small room a large dark-eyed man, bound at the hands by large black chains. “Barty, say hello.” The dark-eyed man, who looked to be around Regulus’ age, stayed silent, eyes pinned on Rodolphus. “Come now, Barty,” Rodolphus snarled, exposing his teeth. “Don’t make me punish you again.” Begrudgingly, the angel turned to Regulus and Evan, speaking in a low, quiet voice. 

“I’m Barty.”

“I’m Evan,” Evan said, his eyes wide as he took Barty in. “And this is Regulus.” 

Regulus said nothing, eyes scanning over Barty. He was taller than even Remus, with long eyelashes covering black, silver flecked eyes. He had a strong jaw, and dark hair alongside a muscled pale body. And of course, curling around his body was a pair of massive wings, dark feathers as long as three feet forming the edges, while long points at the top of his wings almost reached the ceiling. He was hot, something Evan clearly seemed to agree with by the way he was checking the man out, but held no visible signs of what his manifest held. Regulus was disappointed; he had heard that sometimes the fallen displayed hints in their wing pattern regarding their power. 

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you here then,” Rodolphus said, holding out a small silver key from his belt. He unclicked the chain from Barty’s shackles, leaving him in just the manacles, before leaning into Barty’s face, whispering into his ear. “Now, boy, remember our deal. You lose, your mother dies. Got it?”

Barty nodded slowly, his expression not doing a great job of hiding how much he wanted to rid Rodolphus of his skin. Regulus was honestly impressed with how well Rodolphus was missing the danger right in front of him, but bowed respectfully to the King as he left the room, the chain jangling behind him as he left. Barty stayed standing, surveying the two empty beds. Eventually, he selected the one below Regulus, sitting down in silence. His manacles scraped across the metal bed frame, a horrible screeching noise that had Regulus speaking before he even realised he had opened his mouth. 

“I can get those off of you.” 

Barty slowly turned his head towards Regulus, who was cursing himself for the lapse in control. The angel’s eyes were dark and piercing, fury turning the room warm. 

“Are you mocking me?” Barty’s wings twitched slightly, the dark feathers rustling. Regulus shook his head, holding a hand out for Barty to place his manacles in. 

“He can do it,” Evan said softly, expression reassuring even as he frowned at Regulus. “I’ve seen him do a similar thing before.” It was true, he had. Once. In Galya, when they had snuck on late at night into Ophelian territory to attempt to steal a pair of gryphons. They had been younger, and stupid, but Regulus had managed to break the chains on a pair of gryphons before they had been spotted and had to run. 

“They’re magic,” Barty said, a slight quiver in his voice. Regulus frowned, and beckoned for Barty to hold out the manacles. The angel slowly raised his arms, and Regulus hovered his hand over the cold metal, letting his magic seep through the mechanics of the shackles. As far as he could tell, there was a simple containment spell on the guards, something that would be effective in stopping Barty’s magic from being used but was not very resistant to any form of magic externally. Regulus focused the icicles of his magic and placed his hand on the metal, letting frost and ice seep through the material, forcing its way through every crack and small chip into the core of the metal. Barty gasped, eyes widening as ice grew over the metal. It must have been extremely cold, and as Regulus twisted his fingers, the ice cooled to temperatures of inhabitable frozen nature. 

“Evan,” Regulus muttered softly, not taking his eyes off of Barty’s hands. He would have to be very careful with this, otherwise Barty could be in danger of losing his hands. “There’s a dagger in my boot. Get it out.”

Evan leant by him, and Regulus could feel his dagger being extracted from his boot as he concentrated on maintaining the arctic temperature throughout the already cold material. 

“Got it,” Evan said. 

“You see the large crack through the middle?” Regulus asked, watching out of his peripheral vision to confirm Evan’s nod. “Stab it when I tell you to.” Evan nodded again, and Regulus took a deep breath. Concentrating, he plunged the temperature even deeper, focusing on not letting the frost from spreading onto Barty, as his power was urging him to do. “Three, two, one…” Regulus hissed. “NOW!”

Evan plunged the dagger into Barty’s manacles, twisting the blade into the thick material. With a flash and a massive crack, the manacles shattered, falling to the ground in chunks that glowed faintly purple. Immediately, Regulus drew back his hand from above Barty, slamming the door to his power shut. Evan sighed, flopping back onto his bed dramatically as he chucked the dagger back onto Regulus’ bed. Barty stayed sitting, his arms out and a strange expression on his face. Slowly, he rubbed his pale wrists, where they were red and scarred. Regulus felt sick as he stared at the thick scars along his wrists. The idea of anything marring his body…. Barty looked at Regulus, his eyes filling with gratitude that made Regulus vaguely uncomfortable. 

“Thank you,” Barty whispered, looking at Evan as well. “Thank you.” 

“You owe me,” Regulus muttered softly, making Barty bark a laugh. 

“Sure I do Frosty.” 

Barty lay down, turning over and wrapping his wings around himself, shielding himself entirely from Regulus and Evan’s vision. The two shared a bemused look before they too, settled down to sleep.