Thoughts of Avada

[Professor Robbie Ruberagon]

Professor Ruberagon was standing by the Ruberagon pit looking deep into the abyss that few could explain the meaning of. He often did this out of a need to clear his mind more then anything else. He watched the red glare with fascination and after a while found that he could not look directly at it for a moment longer if he tried.

He moved his gaze away from it and started inspecting the aged walls of the fortress. They didn’t look a day older then when he was a student of the Ruberagon House. He remembered what it was like to be a student in the school; things had certainly changed since then. For one thing, there were a lot more fights between the houses. Robbie knew his father encouraged it immensely and wondered why this time should be any different.

On separate occasions Robbie had cursed, hexed, and mildly injured almost every Ameraid student in his grade. His father could not be happier about it, though Amberly Ameraid, whom he had expected would go off at him, decidedly remained quiet. One time he had even heard her telling her own students off for not knowing what to expect and being prepared for the counter.

These days were quite different though. While competition remained between the houses, Robbie barely saw fights in the halls. He was pleased for it though. The more he thought about his youth the more he disliked a lot of the things he did, and the more he looked forward at the future and all the things he would need to do, and the people he would need to apologise to.

And then of course it struck him. Most people from his childhood were dead. Longevity had its prices. He always knew that being his father’s son would allow him some sort of longevity; he was never prepared for the impact though. He ran through a list of names in his mind as he thought about I;

‘Melinda Constantine… dead, killed by Avada…”

‘Cameron Boot… dead…. Also killed by Avada… ’

‘Bartholomew Delaware was also dead, but that was not Avada… at least it was never proven’

He thought on this for a moment, ‘Methros Harris, Aldoran Meekalow, Benjamin Timms, Alouisious Erkmine’ all of them were dead, and all of them victims of Avada. Things had certainly changed. The last victim of Avada was Mezentius Fumbleknot, and that had been seven years ago.

This unsettled him. Perhaps he would need to do some investigating on the matter. Not that he was eager to see more death, but it just did not seem likened to the Guild of Avada to be so dormant. Perhaps it was the calm before the storm.

[Lucius Sinister]

Lucius moved out of the darkness. He was standing by the wall lookng over the edge of the fortress and into the abyss that surrounded it. The pit was good enough for most people when it came to having something to look at while attempting to draw your mind out of the shadows to thoughts you normally would not linger upon in the presence of others.

Lucius’ choice had been upon, and always been upon the darkness that surrounded the fortress. The pit itself was on something of an elevated courtyard balcony. Vast enough, the walls of it were also nearly six foot high and you could not climb over them. You could always, however, lean against them and stare out to things beyond that which a Ruberagon would normally be mesmerised in.

This was what Lucius had been doing.

His attention peeked when Professor Ruberagon II moved out nearer to the pit. Lucius did not bother try to hide himself as he knew the Professor, whom was also his distant cousin, would not appreciate it. And so Lucius remained as still as he had been, shrouded in darkness but visible enough not to warrant being attacked by his own kin.

Lucius wondered as he stood, what things might go through the head of a man in his cousin’s position. Son of the Lord of Ruberagon, and a man of title in his own life. A man once named a murderer, a dark wizard, a fiend. A man with as many mysteries as a founder; possibly more. Lucius had always admired him subtly. He thought his cousin knew it, he would never verbalise theses thoughts.

He stood there considering his relative as he leant against the wall of the fortress. He looked once more out into the darkness beyond and then back towards the pit, taking a step forward as he did. He let his step hit the stoned surface with an echoing impact that would let his cousin know he did not attempt to sneak upon him.

“”A thought is worth an age cousin,” he said to him as he noticed how deep in thought his cousin appeared to be. He didn’t dare ask him outright what he was thinking, though he thought this might be the most subtle and perhaps polite invitation to do so without seeming like a prying busy body. Lucius had a curiosity that was never sated. This was true to be said about him with every person. He always wanted to know the business of others.

“But an age of thought is worth nothing, unless it results in something it would not have without the thought,” Lucius said as he stepped closer to the pit, just close enough to see the glow, but not too close.