Earth, the Year 1968, Europe, Great Britain, London...
Somewhere in the alternative Earth located in the Endless Void in the form of a sealed world, there was a small shop; it was quite large, dusty, and dimly lit, with a large stone fireplace and of course creepy interior.
It was filled with countless skulls, vials, potions, masks, some books and sometimes some obscure curiosities that would give a lesser man a heart attack.
This was a famous shop in London called, Borgin and Burkes, an antique shop located at 13B Knockturn Alley, which was known to deal with unusual and ancient magical artifacts.
It had a shady reputation due to the fact that it was frequented by those with sinister intents, whom were considered dodgy, as well as the greedy and money-minded nature of its founders.
Under cover of the night, several masked and cloaked figures surrounded the shop, as one of them was commanding the other on what to do and what not to do. His commands, even though they were resolute, still carried some sort of charm in them.
The one who seemed to be a leader of the men entered the shop together with another two of them while the remaining six or so of his servants were waiting before and guarding in case someone came. Of course, nobody would be foolish enough to disrupt them in whatever they were doing because that would give him death, swift or slow, that would be seen only afterward.
"Mr. Borgin, you know why we are here."
Said the leader with a polite voice, but anyone who heard him would have shuddered in fear because the polite facade of the main was only a facade that was hiding all of his cruelty and cunning if someone displeased him.
The man, whom the younger one addressed as Mr. Borgin, was an elderly-looking man, not with white hair, but rather oily brown hair, but it was clear that the age was not kind to the shopkeeper of the Borgin and Burkes.
The man known as Borgin was completely shaking in fear as the red eyes of the hooded man peered into his very own soul as he took something out of his drawer. It was a piece of parchment, and just by a single look, one could tell that it was centuries years old, if not a thousand years old.
And yet, despite the old age, it was completely fine, and there were no signs of decomposition or any other kind of destruction of the parchment. On the entire paper sheet which the Borgin passed to the red-eyed younger man was only a sole thing.
It was a silver runic circle that appeared to be some kind of Magic Circle, even for those who were not knowledgeable in this subject, but that was buggering because the last person who could use the Magic Circles to cast Magic was Myrddin Emrys or by modern language, Merlin Ambrosius, the Legendary Wizard.
From his time, the Magic was on the decline and together with it, the entire Wizardkind was slowly but surely falling into obscurity.
Technology was on the rise, and the no magical were advancing with the speed of lightning, as like one great Wizard stated it would be either them or us; there was no third path as the war seemed to be inevitable.
"Thank you, Mr. Borgin, you have done us a great service."
The man took the parchment of paper from Borgin's shaking hands before he swiftly aimed his wand at him and a striking green light shot out of the wand with the chant "Avada Kedavra" echoing through the shop as the lifeless body of Borgin fell to the ground.
"We have what we came for; we can depart."
Stated the red-eyed younger man, as several 'pop' sounds were heard all around and everyone disappeared from the shop and even the Knockturn Alley altogether within several seconds.
***
Earth, England, Wiltshire
Somewhere in Wiltshire in England, there was an enormous manor house. The gravel driveway to the manor house was wide and had a large hedge curving alongside it. The driveway and hedge went past a pair of wrought-iron gates.
The yew hedge was known to have albino peacocks roving along the top of it. The outside of the manor was grand and the land surrounding it was vast, filling many acres. Those acres contained numerous types of trees and various plants and perhaps other animal life.
Suddenly in front of the iron gate, 'pop' sounds were heard, as around when the masked and hooded men arrived in front of it when the gate opened on its own, allowing all of them to enter the manor while it shortly after which the gate closed itself.
The hallway was large, dimly lit, and sumptuously decorated, with a magnificent carpet covering the stone floor.
The walls of the entrance hall displayed pale-faced portraits lining the walls, and at the end of the hall was the bronze-handled door to the drawing room.
"Welcome, My Lord."
Stated a male voice to the red-eyed man.
When one looked closer, they would notice the lord of this estate was a middle-aged man, with a pale, pointed face, with pale blond hair and cold gray eyes. He was wearing a luxurious suit, befitting one of the status aristocracy or extremely wealthy individuals, as he was using a walking cane to support himself.
"Abrasax, follow me to my room."
Said the red-eyed man, who took off his hood, revealing his very handsome and charming face, jet-black hair and dark red eyes. Abrasax Malfoy, Lord of this estate and the Lord of the House Malfoy gave him a bow as he followed after him.
When they arrived at the man's room, it was a small, relatively cozy room, filled primarily with books, if anything else.
"Have you obtained that thing, My Lord?"
Questioned Abrasax carefully as his Lord nodded his head, taking out the piece of parchment with the Magic Circle on it.
"Prepare the ritual room and install there strongest wards you can find. Also, we need a powerful source of Magic to activate this Magic Circle and summon its owner."
Ordered the man to Abrasax, as he agreed with the conclusion and went to carry out the orders as fast as possible.
Earth, the Year 1968, Europe, Great Britain, London...
Somewhere in the alternative Earth located in the Endless Void in the form of a sealed world, there was a small shop; it was quite large, dusty, and dimly lit, with a large stone fireplace and of course creepy interior.
It was filled with countless skulls, vials, potions, masks, some books and sometimes some obscure curiosities that would give a lesser man a heart attack.
This was a famous shop in London called, Borgin and Burkes, an antique shop located at 13B Knockturn Alley, which was known to deal with unusual and ancient magical artifacts.
It had a shady reputation due to the fact that it was frequented by those with sinister intents, whom were considered dodgy, as well as the greedy and money-minded nature of its founders.
Under cover of the night, several masked and cloaked figures surrounded the shop, as one of them was commanding the other on what to do and what not to do. His commands, even though they were resolute, still carried some sort of charm in them.
The one who seemed to be a leader of the men entered the shop together with another two of them while the remaining six or so of his servants were waiting before and guarding in case someone came. Of course, nobody would be foolish enough to disrupt them in whatever they were doing because that would give him death, swift or slow, that would be seen only afterward.
"Mr. Borgin, you know why we are here."
Said the leader with a polite voice, but anyone who heard him would have shuddered in fear because the polite facade of the main was only a facade that was hiding all of his cruelty and cunning if someone displeased him.
The man, whom the younger one addressed as Mr. Borgin, was an elderly-looking man, not with white hair, but rather oily brown hair, but it was clear that the age was not kind to the shopkeeper of the Borgin and Burkes.
The man known as Borgin was completely shaking in fear as the red eyes of the hooded man peered into his very own soul as he took something out of his drawer. It was a piece of parchment, and just by a single look, one could tell that it was centuries years old, if not a thousand years old.
And yet, despite the old age, it was completely fine, and there were no signs of decomposition or any other kind of destruction of the parchment. On the entire paper sheet which the Borgin passed to the red-eyed younger man was only a sole thing.
It was a silver runic circle that appeared to be some kind of Magic Circle, even for those who were not knowledgeable in this subject, but that was buggering because the last person who could use the Magic Circles to cast Magic was Myrddin Emrys or by modern language, Merlin Ambrosius, the Legendary Wizard.
From his time, the Magic was on the decline and together with it, the entire Wizardkind was slowly but surely falling into obscurity.
Technology was on the rise, and the no magical were advancing with the speed of lightning, as like one great Wizard stated it would be either them or us; there was no third path as the war seemed to be inevitable.
"Thank you, Mr. Borgin, you have done us a great service."
The man took the parchment of paper from Borgin's shaking hands before he swiftly aimed his wand at him and a striking green light shot out of the wand with the chant "Avada Kedavra" echoing through the shop as the lifeless body of Borgin fell to the ground.
"We have what we came for; we can depart."
Stated the red-eyed younger man, as several 'pop' sounds were heard all around and everyone disappeared from the shop and even the Knockturn Alley altogether within several seconds.
***
Earth, England, Wiltshire
Somewhere in Wiltshire in England, there was an enormous manor house. The gravel driveway to the manor house was wide and had a large hedge curving alongside it. The driveway and hedge went past a pair of wrought-iron gates.
The yew hedge was known to have albino peacocks roving along the top of it. The outside of the manor was grand and the land surrounding it was vast, filling many acres. Those acres contained numerous types of trees and various plants and perhaps other animal life.
Suddenly in front of the iron gate, 'pop' sounds were heard, as around when the masked and hooded men arrived in front of it when the gate opened on its own, allowing all of them to enter the manor while it shortly after which the gate closed itself.
The hallway was large, dimly lit, and sumptuously decorated, with a magnificent carpet covering the stone floor.
The walls of the entrance hall displayed pale-faced portraits lining the walls, and at the end of the hall was the bronze-handled door to the drawing room.
"Welcome, My Lord."
Stated a male voice to the red-eyed man.
When one looked closer, they would notice the lord of this estate was a middle-aged man, with a pale, pointed face, with pale blond hair and cold gray eyes. He was wearing a luxurious suit, befitting one of the status aristocracy or extremely wealthy individuals, as he was using a walking cane to support himself.
"Abrasax, follow me to my room."
Said the red-eyed man, who took off his hood, revealing his very handsome and charming face, jet-black hair and dark red eyes. Abrasax Malfoy, Lord of this estate and the Lord of the House Malfoy gave him a bow as he followed after him.
When they arrived at the man's room, it was a small, relatively cozy room, filled primarily with books, if anything else.
"Have you obtained that thing, My Lord?"
Questioned Abrasax carefully as his Lord nodded his head, taking out the piece of parchment with the Magic Circle on it.
"Prepare the ritual room and install there strongest wards you can find. Also, we need a powerful source of Magic to activate this Magic Circle and summon its owner."
Ordered the man to Abrasax, as he agreed with the conclusion and went to carry out the orders as fast as possible.
