"Journey to the Muggle World" pt2
"These are the ruins of this ancient kingdom," said Einar, observing the crumbling remains of what was once a castle. They had just arrived via a Portkey, the fastest—and technically cheapest—way to travel long distances in the magical world.
The place they had landed was known for its connection to the legend of King Arthur, though nowadays only time-worn stones remained, barely standing. However, its location gave it a majestic air, a melancholic beauty that endured despite the decay. They were at Tintagel Castle.
"Yes… Tintagel Castle is a medieval fortress located in Cornwall, United Kingdom," explained Hermione, flipping through a book on magical history. "It's famous for being linked to the legend of King Arthur. According to Geoffrey of Monmouth, Arthur was conceived here when Uther Pendragon, with Merlin's help, took on the appearance of the Duke of Cornwall to be with Igraine. It's also connected to the story of Tristan and Isolde. And beneath these ruins, there's a cave that legend says was home to Merlin himself."
Einar scanned the area with a piercing gaze, alert for any magical signals, hidden traps, or enchanted artifacts. He found nothing… for now.
Meanwhile, Harry, Mr. Granger, and Sirius silently observed the distant mountains, enjoying the view.
After a while, everyone scattered to explore. Einar descended into the cave said to be Merlin's home, but found only damp stone. No trace of magic. He returned to the ruins, bored. He was about to give up when he felt a faint magical tingle in a forgotten corner of the wall. A tiny rock, seemingly ordinary, was drawing him in.
He cautiously approached and examined it. It was an old magical trigger. Upon touching it, one of the ruins behind him changed. Where there had been nothing, a massive stone appeared, as if it had been there for centuries… and embedded in its center was a sword, entirely silver, glowing with a soft magical light. Words were engraved on the hilt.
"Whoso pulleth out this sword shall be proclaimed by right King of England…" Einar read aloud.
He looked at it for a few seconds, grabbed it effortlessly, and pulled it out. There was no resistance. He examined it with disinterest and, after a pause, placed it back in its place.
"Mmm… it doesn't even have a good edge. Even a common iron sword would be more useful," he remarked, clearly disappointed.
Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione, who had witnessed the scene from afar, stared at each other, speechless. They had just been discussing how Excalibur wasn't the same as the sword in the stone. But seeing how casual it all was, they shook their heads, deciding maybe they imagined it.
After that, they visited a few more ruins across England, but Einar found nothing worthwhile… until the final stop.
Stonehenge.
As soon as they arrived, Einar stopped in his tracks, eyes locked ahead.
"A gate to Oblivion?" he whispered, more to himself than to the others.
No one understood what he meant, but he immediately walked toward the stones, examining them fervently. However, not sensing any magic, his enthusiasm faded.
"Looks like a gate to Oblivion… more mundane than I expected. Though perhaps I'm mistaken," he added seriously, inspecting each stone carefully.
Thanks to the Portkeys and good planning, they visited all of England's major ruins in just two days. They still had time before returning, so they decided to take advantage and travel to Egypt.
Traveling wasn't hard: you simply had to go to the Department of Magical Transportation at the Ministry, pay a few galleons, and request an international Portkey. Within minutes, they were in Egypt, under a blazing sun and an immense sky.
It was there, among the desert sands, that Einar finally felt his boredom begin to fade. They were exploring a pyramid protected by ancient runes when, unintentionally activating a hidden mechanism, a magical trap was triggered.
In an instant, they were transported to the depths of the complex, inside an underground chamber.
"Finally… something interesting," murmured Einar, smiling for the first time in days.
Einar opened his magical bag and pulled out several sets of enchanted leather armor, tossing them precisely to each member of the makeshift exploration team. Without wasting time, he handed a second magic staff to Mr. Granger, imbued with controlled fire spells, and distributed enchanted daggers to the others.
"Gear up. There's magic in the air… and it's not recent," Einar warned gravely, his golden eyes flashing as he picked up arcane traces invisible to the rest.
With the Spellbreaker shield secured on his back and a sword at his hip, he took the lead with a determined stride.
Click.
The dry sound made them all freeze. Everyone turned to Harry… who had just stepped on a loose slab. A low rumble echoed from deep down the corridor. A massive stone ball began rolling toward them at crushing speed.
The others backed away in panic, their faces filled with fear, but Einar only sighed. He turned his back to the group, adjusted the shield on his back, and drew a runic warhammer.
When the sphere was close enough, he struck it with a devastating blow, shattering it into fragments.
"Let's keep going," he said calmly, as dust still floated in the air.
…
"Watch out, Dad!" shouted Hermione, firing an explosive curse at a mummy that tried to bite her father. Mr. Granger, sweaty but excited, spun his staff clumsily but enthusiastically, roasting giant spiders.
Harry and Sirius fought back-to-back, blocking and countering the mummies lunging at them with sickle-like weapons. A few meters away, Einar watched attentively, evaluating the team's performance.
A mummy leapt at him from the side, but Einar simply turned and punched it. The impact reduced the undead to a cloud of dust.
In the middle of the chaos, Harry stepped on another trap tile. Everyone turned to him with annoyed expressions as new mummies emerged from the shadows.
"Sorry," Harry muttered, embarrassed.
But then a new danger erupted: slits opened in the walls, and a rain of arrows shot out.
Einar jumped in front of the group.
"VEN!" he commanded with force.
A blast of cyclonic wind swirled around them, deflecting the arrows that whistled past, causing them to fall harmlessly to the ground.
"Let's move," he ordered with resolve.
They walked toward a door adorned by two colossal stone statues with jackal heads. Einar stopped, examined them, and with a quick gesture, fired two fire projectiles that exploded against the heads of the guardians. The statues cracked and crumbled without resistance.
"Done," he said, pushing open the door as the others followed in awe.
As they crossed the threshold, they were blinded by a golden glow. Thousands, perhaps millions, of coins and ancient artifacts shimmered under the chamber's faint magical light.
But Einar didn't look at the gold.
His eyes locked onto three dark objects resting atop a sarcophagus at the far end of the chamber. He advanced cautiously, feeling a dense, ancient magical pressure. As if something were watching him.
His armor shifted instantly, transforming into a defensive set of dragon-scale plates, while he raised a hand and signaled the group to stay back.
Suddenly, the sarcophagus exploded. The lid was hurled against the ceiling and shattered to pieces. From within, a man emerged as if awakening from a thousand-year slumber.
He was bald, with dark brown skin, covered in golden pendants and rings. His bare chest displayed magical tattoos, now faded with time. He wore only a white cloth that hung to his knees. He looked human… except for his eyes.
They were completely black. Not like coal, but like pure void, where light went to die.
His gaze settled on Einar, devoid of any emotion.
"Another thief… flesh for my hunger…" he said with a deep, guttural voice, in a language forgotten for centuries. But Einar understood, thanks to the ring Dren had given him to decipher any tongue.
"Even if you do not seek my gold, it matters not. I hunger," the being added, raising a golden staff topped with a blood-red gem.
A serpent of fire burst from the air, lunging at Einar with lethal speed.
Einar unsheathed a greatsword etched with Nordic runes and brought it down in a vertical arc. The serpent was cleaved in two with a magical shriek before vanishing.
But from the ground, a black spear shot up at impossible speed, striking his chest. He hadn't seen it coming.
The spear shattered on impact with his armor, leaving only a spark of magic that faded instantly.
Einar raised his gaze, smiling. It was a dangerous smile—the smile of someone who had just found something worthy of his time.
"Sirius, take the others further back. This… this one's mine," he said firmly.
A chill ran down everyone's spine. The air grew denser, colder. Even the gold seemed dimmer.
The true battle was just beginning.