New Beginnings
"I am the Lord of all that is golden..."
The Tarnished laid its last strike upon his body as he began to fade, his soul returning to the Erdtree. But the Erdtree had deemed his act of grafting atrocious, vile even. His soul was unable to die a true death, he could do nothing but hope his soul would find rest in the Lands Between.
All sense was stripped from him, and all his scars and achievements were ripped apart, leaving his soul bare, as pure and untouched as the day it was born.
He floated away, or at least he attempted to, but he felt a hand grasp him, a hand as tall as a man and as mighty as a god. It shattered his mind and soul, taking the shard of the Elden ring he had held so close, the shard that he had worked so hard for. But from the scraps left of his soul, it grasped one last thing, it took his namesake, the remembrance of all his power, all his determination.
His soul once broken apart, revealed the beings that he had grafted on to himself, from the body of a troll to the head of a dragon. The pieces all scattered, returning to the Erdtree, to the land bathed in rays of gold.
Whatever was left of him began to fade, without a body, a soul could only breathe for so long. Warmth embraced his body, he felt as if he was placed in the hands of his dear brother Godefroy, not caring about a single thing, living as he regretfully couldn't. He felt himself free of all things.
In his thoughts, a single man appeared, his ancestor who hadn't either died a true death, Godwyn, The first of the dead. He led him to a gate, a door attached to nothing, yet its size dwarfed everything in existence, a door pure of all yet it showed all in existence.
As he stood by that door it burst open with great strength yet still producing no sound, as evident by Godrick's lack of any senses. His soul suddenly shot through the endless abyss beyond the door, an endless divinity permeated this abyss. In this abyss, his life flashed before his eyes, The first invasion of Leyndell which left his brother, Godefroy, imprisoned in an evergaol. The way he fled through the city among the women upon his defeat. The way he earned his title of Godrick the golden only for it to be taken from him and insulted upon his defeat at the hands of Malenia.
He was a cowardly fool.
He knew he had shamed his bloodline, for he had committed the cardinal sin of grafting, and he had brought disgrace to the soldiers that served him, fighting against even their own kin only to be shamed and disgraced by his actions.
Shame.
He had beckoned for power, beckoned for something to earn the recognition his ancestors had gotten.
The abyss answered his beckoning, as he shot through the void, he remembered something his brother had told him.
"Not all men are born equal, some are born disfigured, some are born disgraced, we have no chance against those born of empyrean descent for our blood is too diluted. But with the strength of a troll? With the might of a dragon? The undying bodies of tarnished? None stand taller than he who takes other's talent"
His soul cruised past stars, galaxies, and constellations. He watched the Ertree scorch in flames, the outer gods entertain themselves with the suffering of the lands between.
He was not here anymore, his soul not anchored to any point. He was neither here, nor there, nor anywhere.
His soul has a path however, it will lead him somewhere, somewhere he will live again...
-----
In the very heart of magical Britain, behind the "Leaky Cauldron Pub", a child no more than 11 years of age could be seen.
"... It went... from the rubbish bin, three bricks up and two across right?"
The source of this voice was none other than the young, orphaned, Deacon Butch. Of course, Deacon Butch was here for a reason after all, just a month ago an owl had come and dropped off a letter at his feet. The average 11-year-old would be excited to learn that they would be learning magic, after all, casting spells was always a child's fantasy, and Deacon was no different... to be fair he was quite different.
Deacon Butch, formerly Donald Mikhail, reincarnated from Earth to the world of Harry Potter. Donald was a simple accountant, the usual stuff, shitty life, shitty job, shitty love life, once couldn't even call it a tragedy because he earned enough to not need to rent a home. His death came as a surprise, quite frankly death by lawn mower was not how he had expected he would go out but to each their own.
As he tapped the bricks, a sort of doorway emerged in the wall.
*Ding!*
[User has interacted with the magical world!]
[System Booting...]
As all reincarnators do, he believed he would get a special something to help him in this new world he is in. A system would not be too far-fetched at all. It seems it needed him to trigger its activation and going to get his materials for his first year of magic school seems to have done the trick.
[True Gacha System activated!]
[User is allowed 10 free rolls as a starter gift!]
Oh how exciting this was going to be, he just knew he was going to enjoy this.
But he had to first get all his materials, books, and most importantly... his wand!
"Mr. Butch is it? I'm Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. I believe it is time for us to get going" A stern voice spoke up to his side.
His eyes scanned over his soon-to-be transfiguration teacher. She seemed a little too stern, her robes a little too domineering, and her face was pretty wrinkly. Since he had no parents and no funds, a teacher from Hogwarts was to escort him and pay for his books via the muggle-born fund.
His first stop? Madam Malkin's Robes for all occasions! A good wizard needs his fancy robes now, doesn't he? It was a bit of a shame for him to discover that he was only able to purchase some second-hand robes but nonetheless, he got his robes. According to the Headmistress, his cloak was covered in a temperature regulation enchantment. Whatever that means. His robes seemed a little too big but he would grow into it, he knew he would.
It seemed as though everything in the wizarding world was a little too much, maybe he would also have this excess something?
He passed by Flourish and Blott's but to be honest, he couldn't care less, he had enough of reading books in his past life, wouldn't it be nice for a change in pace? From a bookworm to a jock, wouldn't that be a nice duality, eh?
Thankfully he was allowed to have a little break from walking around as he sat on a bench overlooking Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, a place filled to the brim with sweets and for some reason angsty teenage girls as employees.
He can't wait any longer. That impatience in his heart was palpable.
"System, spin all the free rolls!"
[Rolling... Questioning Fate... Done]
[1. Sock {...What do you expect it's a sock.}
2. Dior Fahrenheit perfume {Smells like gasoline}
3. Half a bagel {Not even a whole Bagel?}
4. Soul of Godrick the Grafted
5. Religious robes {Smells spiritual}
6. Jumbo Shrimp {Tasty}
7. Self-Help Book {Necessary}
8. Medusa's scales {Seems like ordinary snake scales... but sinister}
9. Notebook {For your deepest thoughts}
10. Mossy Rock {It's a Mossy Rock} ]
This seemed to be the most interesting part of the day, the gacha really was random, especially since one item was a random sock and the other was the scales of Medusa, a mythological creature capable of petrifying anyone with her gaze.
But one item was... without a description...
What would happen if he tapped it?
*Click*
-----
To be continued