Chapter 8: 650 BC Starting to live

"What are you doing, Sal?"

Salvazsahar - formerly Harry - looked up from his work.

"I am working on my third circle of strengthening runes" he answered his father.

It had been one year since Salvazsahar had been reborn. Since then he had started to learn the way of the druids. His father had taught him potions, charms, transfiguration, herb-lore and ritual-theory. He had also taught him Arithmancy, Astrology and knife- fighting. Parsel-magic and language studies were mixed in all his classes.

One of the most important things Sal had learned was Occlumency and Legilimency.

His father had been very insistent in these two disciples because they were the only ones that shielded Sal from being exposed as a time-traveller by another more ruthless druid.

At first, learning under his father had been hard. After Sal had gained his staff he had thought, that his lessons would get more Hogwarts-like. He had been wrong. He did not learn spells like the spells in Hogwarts anymore. There still were spells, of course, but the most of them were long chantings and mostly used to aid in a ritual or with a potion.

Crying spells out and fire them at each other did simply not exist.

That didn't mean there was no battle-magic. Runes, written with your empty hand in mid-air or drawn in the ground with your staff, was Sal's new fighting-style.

There were also no wand-movements. He had not to remember how to swing his staff to get a result in his spellwork - a lot of spells he used in daily life were wandless anyway, which had been especially hart on Sal first - but he had no choice. His staff was unable to call out magic like his wand had. Sal had tried it. He had tried a simple lumos- spell with his staff but was unable to get a result. When he had asked his father, Myrddin had answered that this shortened form of magic - Myrddin had never heard of a possibility to just shout a word and swing your staff - was maybe something that needed a more focused staff as they were able to make now. So Sal had to learn the druid's way. He had to know how the runes looked he wanted to draw, how and where to place them in full-fledged rituals and how to use his staff not only in magic but also in fighting against mundane weapons.

Sal loved and hated it the same time.

After some month Sal also had started in blood rituals. These were rituals every druid had to do to strengthen their body and their magic and finally waking their blood. Without them, Sal would not be allowed to do more than ritual-theory.

The blood-rituals were there to protect Sal's mind and body when using his magic for other rituals. They were the foundation every druid had to have before being allowed to call himself a druid. Sal did not know what would happen if he had not done the blood rituals but had attempted a ritual nevertheless - and he didn't want to know.

He had learned the hard way, that Myrddin and Ollivanneder would not hold back any answers to his questions, even if they were just asked out of fun without expecting an answer - and some things you were better not knowing… like doing rituals without blood-magic, or the sex-lives of your parents and godparents…

"So you will finish with your body strengthening rituals in the next few moons?" Myrddin asked.

"I think so" Sal answered, still calculating the places where the individual runes had to sit on his back.

"How far are you with your memory-runes?" These were another layer of runes to improve his memory - not that Sal needed them. Since the rebirth he hadn't forgotten anything. Instead he had begun to remember. Daily the past days of his life had returned to him, filled with a clearness Sal had never had before.

First it had been forgotten days at the Dursleys' and Hogwarts and also things he had read or learned but had not remembered anymore but after a while he suddenly started to remember his parents and the one year he had with them. It was a gift to him, even if he had to remember the strained faces his parents had worn the last month before their deaths and also the day his parents had died with every cruel detail.

And he did not just start to remember, he also did not forget anymore. Whatever he was told, he remembered even weeks later. Every lesson he had been given on his way to his new home he had remembered and some details he had not grasped at that time he suddenly understood.

He had inherited his new father's ability to memorize everything and finally he understood why Myrddin had hated it to repeat everything over and over again. His father had simply not understood that Sal's memory wasn't as good as his own…

But even if he knew now how his father felt and was now able to remember with just hearing it once, he was not sure if he liked that.

It had not been just good memories that returned to him and suddenly some of the actions of some people who had been in the future around him, seemed different.

He now remembered clearly the guiding in the "right" direction he had gotten in first year. At that time, it had been veiled to him. Hagrid was a nice fellow, taking him away from his mundane relatives, showing him an absolutely new world. But now Sal asked himself how it had happened, that Hagrid had been the one to introduce him to the wizard world.

Of course, Hagrid was huge and intimidating - but Sal had been a target, a target that knew nothing about the mark that had marred his back, signing him up to be shot by a Death Eater.

So why had it been Hagrid?

Why not McGonagall, Professor Flitwick or even Snape?

And how come there was no pamphlet or something else that could tell him something about his new world?

Shouldn't he know some things like the customs, culture or history of the wizarding world before he entered Hogwarts?!

Sal banished the thoughts and turned back to his father's question about his memory-runes.

"I will start with the first layer tonight." Sal answered. "I have prepared the potions and the stone-circle isn't used by anyone else, so there should be no problem."

They were still living in Loandom, but in their own cottage. The city was a magical one - Sal had started to suspect, that it later would become Diagon Alley - and the villagers all knew Sal as Myrddin's son.

Sal hadn't been introduced to them until they had completed the rebirth so that the villagers never knew that Sal first wasn't born as Myrddin's son. And after that there had been no evidence that he ever wasn't. His accent in speaking Cymráeg had dwindled after the ritual and the other languages of the island had come to him naturally.

Now, a year later Sal was as fluent in Cymráeg and Brezhoneg as if he was brought up with them. He could speak the other island-languages enough to understand the most of them and was learning Egyptian. After that his father had told him they would start on Latin, Greek and Norse.

Sal did not really look forward to it, but he did not protest. His father had told him, that at some time Sal would likely leave Loandom to seek his way home - and who would know where he would have to go to find it…

"What about the magic strengthening ones?" His father asked in that moment and Sal returned his concentration on the runes in the sandy earth in front of him.

"I have done the first layer two month ago. My second one is ready - I have just to wait until the memory-layer will have settled." He answered dutifully. "And I have started on the blood-wakening."

"That's good." Sal looked up when he heard the colouring of his father's voice.

"Is something troubling you, atr?" he asked.

"Yes." His father answered and sat down next to him on the ground in their hut. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What is it?" Sal asked now stopping to calculate and laying down the stick he had been using to draw the runes.

"It is about you - about your body" Myrddin said. "I noticed that you did not age since you came here."

Sal blinked and Myrddin brushed one of Sal's strands of hair out of Sal's face. Salvazsahar's hair had grown the last year and was now falling to his shoulders.

"I… I did not age?" Sal repeated, not sure if he understood his father correctly.

"Yes, you did not" Myrddin answered the positive. "I was not sure first, but I watched you the whole last year and you did not age a single day since I found you."

"So… I will stay fifteen - forever?!" Sal asked, unsure how to feel about that.

"I am not sure" his father answered. "But I have made up a theory."

"A theory?"

"You are not from this time. Even if you have been reborn here - you still should not exist here because there are no circumstances that would have led to your existence." His father elaborated. "So your body might be in stasis until you return to your rightful time. That means you would be able to grow in mind, but not in body until then."

"But… what is with dying?" Sal asked.

"My theory suspects, that you won't be able to die until you are back in your own time. You are timeless until you reach the day you left your own time. After that you should age normally."

"So I will be fifteen for the next thousand or two thousand years?!" Sal asked horrified.

"Normally I would say yes" answered Myrddin. "But there is a chance, that when we wake your blood you will gain the control over your age. Like the phoenix who decide when they want to age and when they want to be reborn again, you might be able to change your age. But we will have to look into that, when you have finalized your blood-wakening. Until then I fear you will not age."

"And what will we tell the others until then?" Sal asked.

"I never told them how old you are. If you finalize your blood-wakening until the winter after next winter - and I am sure you will - we won't have to tell them anything." Myrddin answered. "Then you are simply younger then they may first have thought."

"Well… when you think that that's all right" Sal finally answered. Myrddin smiled at him and ruffled his hair before standing up.

"Complete your ritual tonight and work on your others" He said. "I am sure the rest will come in time."

Myrddin had been right. Two years later the still fifteen years old Salvazsahar finally, after a long, tiring night, completed the blood-wakening runes on his body.

He had been sitting on the stone-bed in the middle of the stone-circle since midday the day before and now the night ended and the sun greeted him again.

His whole body ached and dried blood clung to his body like a second skin. His arms, torso, feet and face where carved with runes, one of the most complicated circles on the middle of his back, between his shoulder blades. Every carved rune was very small and very precisely cut. They were arranged in circles, waves and symmetrical pattern and did just habituate some parts of his body.

Sal knew the carving would heal and the runes sink under his skin, like all the other ones had done that he had placed the last two years on his body.

This was the final layer of the blood-wakening runes - the final layer for now. After that he would be able to call himself a druid - even if he would add different layers of runes over the years that would come. Blood-rune magic like that was the only protection when he worked with rituals. They strengthened his grip on his magic and body, strengthened his mind and memory and wakened the creature - Firbolg - blood in him so that it could aid him in his task.

These runes also lengthened his life because of the strengthening and the more thoroughly connection with his inherited blood and soul. It was normal to never stop with blood-rune magic. Every experience, every new knowledge would be put in runes on his body so that he had aid when he needed it while doing rituals. The more blood-runes the more control he had over the rituals - it was as simple as that.

Sal sighted, then he let go of his knife which he had directed only with his will and magic to carve the runes on his back.

The knife clattered on the stone-bed and Sal stood up and broke the circle he had drawn in the earth of the stone-circle. With that he destroyed the lingering shield-runes and suddenly pain shot through his body. But that was something Sal had expected. The circle might shield him from these emotions until he broke it, but after that he was on his own.

So Sal sat back on the stone-bed again and closed his eyes. He had had to first destroy the runic circle before activating his own runes. When he wouldn't the circle and his freshly carved body-runes would have easily been able to interact - and that could have been lethal for Sal.

But now, after destroying the rune circle, Sal could try out his carvings. When he had done them right, his pain would succumb but when he had done them wrong… well, then he would never have to worry about something else.

Sal searched for his magic, and then let it flow through his carvings.

Incredible pain flowed through his body. His eyes, ears and teeth started burning, then his chest and fingertips followed. After that his skin felt as if it was lit with fire.

One moment long Sal thought he had failed and was now paying the price, but then his pain succumbed to a throbbing and finally ended.

Sal blinked and opened his eyes again. He starred down to his fingertips, but they were not different then before. Then he felt his ears - and they were. It was not something most would notice but when Sal felt his ears he could feel that the former round tops were now slightly pointed - elf-like.

So Sal turned his attention to his teeth. They seemed to be a little bit sharper but except of that did not feel different.

"Well… I will find out" Sal thought and blinked. Just to see a shadow fleeing on both sides of his eyes. What…?

"You seemed to have inherited my eyes" Sal looked up and saw his father approaching. His vision zoomed in and suddenly he could see his father clearer than ever. A strange, red, orange and white mist seemed to round him.

"What…?"

"Basilisk-eyes" his father answered. "Yours are still green in its colouring - not that I expected something different - but they are now as deadly for another creature like the eyes of every other Basilisk."

"So I can kill with my eyes?!" Sal asked horrified.

"Kill with your eyes and heal with your tears, I bet" his father answered. "The same as I. Maybe you also have the Basilisk venom, we will see. First you should close your second eyelids before anyone else approaches."

"Second eyelids?" Sal asked.

"You should see their shadow when you blink."

"Oh!" Sal concentrated on the eyelids and closed them without effort. To his amazement he could still see clearly through them. The only different was that the red mist around his father was gone.

"What is this red mist I was seeing?" he asked his father.

"Body heat." Myrddin answered and cupped Sal's chin.

"You have gotten some nice ears." He commented. "Your elven- heritage, I am sure. Well, the rest will show itself in time."

"There will be more?"

"There is more, son. You just don't know it, yet." Myrddin answered. "But the most important one is now your ability to age. Try to concentrate on your body and will it to age."

Sal closed his eyes and concentrated. Then he tried to imagine himself older. First nothing happened, then his skin prickled and finally stopped.

Sal opened his eyes again.

"Did it work?" he asked.

Myrddin looked him over.

"It did" he answered and Sal sighted felt relieve creeping through his body. No-one would ever notice that he was not really aging anymore…

"Try to turn younger again" Myrddin said. "We will have to see if it works also like that."

Sal nodded and closed his eyes. Again his skin prickled and when he opened his eyes his father nodded.

"Good" he said and let go of Sal's chin. "So this problem is gone."

"Can you also do it?" Sal asked interested.

"I can" Myrddin answered. "But don't forget: Just because you look older doesn't mean your body really is. It is still held in stasis and even if it looks twenty it will still be fifteen, understood?"

"So changing my age will also not change the day I die?" Sal asked.

"No" Myrddin answered. "When your body is old, it is old - even if it looks as if it is still fourteen."

"I understand."

"And now, let's go home. Your godfather is waiting there to congratulate you and we won't make him wait, will we?"

"No" Sal answered, standing up and picking up his clothes. On the way home they stopped at the river so that Sal was able to wash himself.

After that they returned home where Ollivanneder was waiting.

The life went on and finally, ten years later Sal and his father left Loandom again to travel. Over a hundred years they travelled together. They went to Egypt, Rome and the North to look for a way home for Sal.

They did not find anything.

No-one had even heard about time-travel and so there was not even the slightest evidence about a way back to the future. When Myrddin finally decided he had travelled enough and returned to Britain, Sal turned East and went to China, Japan and India.

He would not return home for the next centuries and so Myrddin would first see his son again in 370 BC when Salvazsahar finally decided to return home to his father to catch some breath.

At that time Sal would have learned foreign languages and their writing, foreign customs and magic no-one ever heard about in Britain. He would have learned the material arts to their fullest and also would have learned about the connection between body, mind and magic. His knowledge would be tenfold - but nothing he learned would give him even a clue how to return to his own time.

There simply was no-one who ever travelled in time.