The Spirit of the Tree of Death
The Chthonic Professor
Summary: A single decision made by Harry changes the course of fate. Instead of dropping the resurrection stone in the forest, Harry slips it into his pocket. Through a freak accident, in direct contact with all three of the Deathly Hallows, Harry is transported to a world of death and deceit; the Shinobi Nations.
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Chapter One - Solitude
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It was over. They'd won, Tom Riddle and his band of Death Eaters had been defeated. The Elder Wand was in his possession. Wizarding Britain was free from the tyranny of a psychopathic megalomaniac.
So why did the burden on his shoulders feel heavier than ever?
He'd tried to suppress it, tried to smile along with the rest of them, tried to believe in their shared past. He couldn't. Not anymore. The last year had changed him, and now that it was over, now that everything was over, it was only clearer to him.
He couldn't go back, couldn't return to what he once was, to what they once were. So he made a decision. He made a choice.
He couldn't go back, so he would go forwards. He would leave, and he would never look back. He had given these people his life, his entire being, but there is only so much a single person can give before they reach their limit. Harry had reached that limit a long, long time ago.
He would leave. He would leave and live for himself, and only himself, for once in his life. He would live free, free of society and all of its damning constraints and expectations. He'd live the way he had always wanted to live.
As he slipped his invisibility cloak over his head, Harry grinned, truly grinned a happy grin, for the first time in over a year. He fiddled with Dumbledore's wand- no, his wand, and absentmindedly stuck his hand in his pocket, to fiddle with the little ring that rested there.
Invisible to the world and happy as can be, Harry strode out into the Castle's courtyard, out through the gates, and eventually through the wards surrounding the magnificent school.
Then, with his cloak sitting comfortable around his shoulders, his wand twirling in his right hand, and his left fiddling with the ring, Harry disapparated.
Though he didn't know it at the time, an incredible phenomenon was set in motion the moment Harry had laid a finger on the ring set in his pocket. Through the direct skin contact of all three Hallows, a magical circuit was created for the very first time, and Death recognized its very first Master.
Now, despite what one may think of Death and its stereotypes, Death was a very faithful servant. All Death wanted was to fulfill his Master's wishes.
So when Harry vanished into the aether with a 'pop!', Death obeyed its Master's wish. If its Master wished to leave, to go to a place he could never be found, to go somewhere that he could start anew, then who was Death to deny him that wish?
-.-
It took Harry a while to get used to his new situation, but as always, he was able to adapt and turn the situation to his advantage.
He'd found himself teleported to the peak of a small mountain entirely covered with incredible foliage and natural greenery. He stayed where he had been transported for days on end, living off of the land, before he'd finally gathered the courage to set out and wander this new place.
He wouldn't notice the little bud of life peaking through the soil upon which he'd arrived as he left.
For a year Harry adventured, and though he wouldn't know it, whispers of a world-weary, emerald-eyed wandered would follow in his wake everywhere he went. After his year abroad gathering information on the land he was now inhabiting, Harry felt an incredibly compelling sensation pulling him towards the location of his initial transportation into this odd realm.
He returned to the very peak of that unnamed mountain exactly a year after he'd initially arrived. What he found left him astonished, and yet somehow feeling whole all the same. There, in the very spot that he'd landed, growing up from nothing but barren soil, stood the tallest, most magnificent yew tree Harry had seen in his entire life.
In awe of the majestic tree's natural beauty, Harry was hit with a premonition, a vision, of something incredible. Though he would never tell a soul of what he saw that day, the vision he saw spurred him into action, and would be the butterfly that sent ripples the size of a tsunami soaring across the Elemental Nations.
With a fevered sense of urgency and the disposition of a man obsessed, Harry set to work crafting a magnificent staff of gnarled yew around his Elder Wand. For seven days and seven nights, without food and without sleep, and without moving from where he was seated at the base of the incredible tree, Harry worked. Bit by bit, piece by piece, imbuing every inch of the wood with the natural magic of the mountain, Harry created a weapon, a partner, and a masterpiece.
He would rest at the top of the mountain, at the base of his Yew tree, until the time was right for him to leave.
In that time, a legend would spring up, of a protective spirit and his beautiful tree, who would protect weary travellers attempting to traverse the treacherous mountain. Though the accounts and tales of travellers relating to the spirit would constantly vary, one little detail would always stay the same.
That the spirit had the most magnificent, breathtaking glowing green eyes anyone had ever seen was irrefutable.
Over the two long years he spent atop that mountain, Harry would gain a new moniker, one that was, without a doubt, his favourite.
Shi no Ki no Seishin.
The Spirit of the Tree of Death.
-.-
It had been just over three years since Harry had first arrived on the mountain top. Today was, in fact, July 31st, marking Harry's twentieth birthday. His years living off the land had treated him well, despite what one might think at first glance. His body was wiry and strong, and his eyes held a love for life that they never had before.
At some point in time he'd lost his shoes and socks, leaving his feet bare to the elements. They had become rough and calloused, but he could now walk on jagged rock or uneven soil like a wraith, silent as the blackest night.
His black cloak had long since become frayed at the hem. He wore it open, leaving his chest bare to the world, and tied it closed around his waist with a sash created from the sleeves he'd torn off the robe. Though he constantly wore his hood over his head, his hair had grown long enough to drape in front of his eyes and down to the nape of his neck in a messy waterfall. The final change to his appearance was the ring nestled against his collarbone, held there by a rope made of the finest bark.
However, this appearance had not been seen by a single soul in the last two years he'd spent atop this mountain he called home. Harry had taken to wearing his invisibility cloak at all times, after he had fiddled around with it and found it possessed sleeves and a hood, like an actual cloak.
He'd been meditating at the base of the yew tree, which had only grown larger over the last two years, when a profound understanding overcame him.
Emerald green eyes flew open to stare at the sky above. He breathed in deeply, tasting the fresh mountain top air, almost as if saying goodbye.
Then he stood, and with only the periodic thumping of his staff to mark his passing, slowly went on his merry way.
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AN: Whelp, I've started another story, people. *Sighs*. I really hope this one turns out well, I have some plans for this one! Mwahahahahaha~
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Peace out, people!
The Chthonic Professor