Thank you for the reviews and for reading this far, on with the story.
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Meeting of ways.

The journey south would take a bit over two weeks to travel according to Farad, Harry had found out after asking. They would at first have to travel through deep snow but it would soon start to melt he was told, as spring was come. Harry still didn't feel like the weather had gotten any warmer but as he now sported his own wardrobe of thick fleece-lined clothes he wasn't as bothered by the cold as he'd been when he first arrived.
Tátá travelled and slept with Harry and they spent the days discussing potions, plants and animal ingredients. During the nights they brewed as Harry wanted to leave the boy with a good supply of potions. Tátá had also finally cracked the code for letting his magic into the rune stones. The first time it happened the boy had thrown the small white stone, Harry had him using, away as if it had burnt him. The Elhaz rune, to offer protection to property and person, seemed to glow faintly for a moment before it settled in black inside the rune etching on the white stone. Harry had checked it and found it to be of a poor quality, it wouldn't offer much protection as it was now but he'd praised Tátá anyway as it was a great achievement to have finally figured it out. It had taken some convincing to get the boy to try again after his fright but once he'd done it again the runes seemed to be easy enough for him to power again albeit as weak as the first time. Harry had told him to practise often and to let more power into the rune to make it more powerful but guessed that it might take the boy years to power the runes enough to be of any use.

As the clever boy he was and once he'd gotten over his fright at having power inside himself, he'd even learnt one of Harry's little tricks just from watching. As Harry's wand was just a piece of useless wood at the moment he'd been using other sticks as conduits for his wandless magic. Wandless magic was hard after all, since the magic fought to do as it pleased once released. But Harry had learnt, from Luna of all people, to push his magic through other objects like sticks. The magic was nowhere as precise as if he'd used a wand but adequate for small things like lighting a fire. You just released an Incendio through the stick, lighting what it was you needed lit, the stick then turned to very hard charcoal which was useless as a conduit again but rather cool to look at. Tátá had figured out that he could send power into things and have things happen too, albeit very small things. Harry had made sure to have a serious conversation about risks of using magic without thinking about the consequences. Tátá had been horrified at the idea of him burning down the tribe if he wasn't careful and had promised to take great care and only do the things Harry had taught him from then on.

After a few days of uneventful travels some of the men were sat, one evening, around a small fire gazing up at the stars. Harry was amazed by the clarity of the stars here in his new world and wished that he knew the constellations they made. He'd learnt many constellations on his earlier travels and had come to find comfort from gazing at the stars as they stayed the same as other things changed.
Most of the tribe members were sleeping and the few that were awake were on guard duty talking quietly among themselves as they gazed out into the darkness surrounding them. Harry felt the need to relieve himself and stood up stretching his arms high in the air. The shaman who sat muttering to himself whilst gazing into the flames glanced at him before turning his eyes to the fire again. One of the logs in the fire cracked and as if it had been a starting signal there was suddenly a cacophony of guttural shrieks and frightening calls filling the air. Harry could see dark shapes move outside the light of the fire and cursed as a long arrow landed not far from his feet.
"Black beasts!" one of the hunters called in warning as he raised his spear and charged into the dark. Harry couldn't see the Black men clearly in the dark but he heard their guttural laughs as the hunters tried valiantly to defend the tribe campsite. Farad rushed out of his tent a sharp knife in one hand and his spear in the other and Harry remembered the stories they had told him about most tribes not surviving the attack from the Black man beast.

"Give me your staff!" Harry called to the shaman who stood not far away waving the staff in some sort of pattern, no doubt thinking that he was protecting them all with a magic spell. The shaman eyed him incredulously as if Harry had asked him to cut off his arm and shook his head vehemently in negative.
"I'll compensate you for it." Harry added impatiently as yet another pained yelp sounded from the dark night followed by the sound of a body falling. The shaman got a speculative gleam in his eyes and handed his staff over, no doubt remembering having seen Tátá's knife. Besides, he didn't really want to stand here in the open where the poisoned arrows or swords could reach him.
Harry raised the staff high in the air, not caring about the consequences of using magic openly in front of the muggles at the moment. He didn't want to risk burning his useless wand into ashes, as he still held hope of fixing it, but the man's walking stick would have to do as a focal point for some wandless magic.
"Incendio!" he shouted, concentrating hard on guiding as much magic through the wood as he could, before dropping to his knees as a sudden bout of vertigo hit him making the world spin all around him. The staff heated under his fingers and glowed eerily red as the wood inside caught fire. Harry held fast, staff raised above his head, unperturbed by the heat under his palm as he willed the magic to let the fire illuminate the darkness so the tribe's fighters could attack their enemies by sight. And also to hopefully give the black beast men a fright. He wanted to protect the tribe who had done their best to welcome him and treat him kindly.

A great light erupted from the top of the staff, bits of wood splintering in all directions, and soon the sky above them lit up in a red glare causing both tribe members and Black men to halt as they gazed heavenwards. Harry finally got a first clear look at the Black man beast and would have taken a step backwards in horror at their appearance if he wasn't still kneeling on the cold white ground. Then he caught sight of what was causing the red light above them and nearly groaned at the deep shit he'd put himself into. His little fire spell had not turned out the way he had intended and he was glad that he had restricted his use of magic to potions and runes during his stay with the tribe.
Well if there was an international wizarding council they were bound to get word about him now.
A great dragon entirely made up of an eerie red fire swooped down towards them in a steep dive and opened its great maw before letting out a stream of blistering white fire. Harry wondered idly if he'd somehow called forth Fiendfyre by mistake. The Warg hunters all dived onto the ground, piling snow onto their heads whilst the Black men screamed as they were devoured by the hot flames emitting from Harry's dragon. Harry couldn't have turned away if he'd wanted to and wondered if this was how he would die, by his own fire.
The world then grew quiet as the red dragon dissipated into nothing but white smoke rising high into the night sky. It left merely black scorch marks, the only remains of the black beast men, on the now wet ground. The hunters slowly stood and checked themselves, looking astonished to find themselves unhurt by the flames which had burnt every Black beast who'd been present into ash. Even Harry was surprised to find that the fire had left the tents and people unhurt. Even the big sled dogs lay unhurt if not slightly peeved on the ground, their ears lying flat on their heads and furs ruffled wildly.
"Find the wounded and bring them to me." Harry ordered into the silence as he finally snapped back into reality by a soft touch from Tátá who had appeared at his side carrying Harry's healer's bag, along with his own smaller sized one.

Harry handed the now all black staff back to the hesitant shaman, who eyed his previously prised possession as if it might spew fire again at any moment. The shaman hefted it in his hands carefully as if trying its strength and found it to be hard but light. He tapped the ground lightly with it before smashing it down on a large rock, arms shaking as the staff vibrated in his hands giving of a deep humming sound. He gazed after Harry, who had hurried off to look for wounded tribe members, with a look of hard won respect. Clearly he had been in the wrong about the black haired youth, he would have to apologise to Farad and admit that he had been wrong to bad mouth Námondil. Farad had warned him that the boy was more than he appeared but he'd been fooled by the boy's youthful appearance and actions. Why someone with his powers wouldn´t use it to his advantage he'd never understand but he would not antagonise the boy in any way or shape from now on. He gave the staff a pondering look before gently stroking its new glossy surface with a calloused hand. It looked powerful and would no doubt make him stand out at the gathering of tribe shamans when they gathered. The story of a dragon spewing forth from it would add to his importance. The staff had been his after all and the boy wouldn't have been able to call the fiery beast without it, so really he had been instrumental to the destruction of the Black men even if he wasn't the one who had called the beast forth. He nodded pleased with himself and hurried to his tent so that he could ponder how best to tell the story of the dragon staff and what to say of its humble beginnings. Stories of great importance such as this one, which would be told generations from now, deserved a good beginning if they were to draw people in and keep them entertained. He would have to work through the night on his presentation as they only had a few days until they arrived at the meeting grounds.

Harry had tended the wounded until late in the night with the help of Tátá who was proving his real worth. Three of the hunters had died during the attack and many had been wounded, but it could have been much worse they all said. Harry felt as if a small wind could knock him over but fought to stay focused until the last of the more serious wounds had been looked at. Tátá was tasked with tending the rest as Harry felt that he would collapse if he didn't rest. Casting magic here was far more laborious than at home, he'd have to be careful about when, where and how he used magic so that he didn't put himself or others at risk.
Lejá who had kept her eyes on him finally brought him to Farad's tent with a gentle but unyielding hand and ordered him to rest. Harry sighed once before his head fell down and his chin came to rest on his chest, as he fell asleep where he sat on the thick furs. Lejá tutted and gently lay him down as Farad entered the tent, giving her a proud look for her care of their important guest. Námondil had brought forth great magic which apparently took a great deal of strength from him, the tribe would keep him safe as he rested. They owed him everything Farad thought, thanking whatever spirit it was that had sent him their way.

The next day dawned bright and early, the tribe wanted to head off as soon as possible and put some ground between themselves and the land with the numerous scorch marks left by the Black men's deaths. A warning shout could be heard by one of the hunters guarding them and soon word came that men from another Lossoth tribe were drawing near.
Harry, who had woken up in Farads tent feeling not only disoriented but hungry as a wolf quickly exited the tent carrying his cup of warm broth at the commotion outside. Farad who stood gazing at the men drawing nearer turned to Harry with a smile.
"It is Bear tribe hunters, they have come to meet us." Farad said, happy to see some of his kindred after the night they'd had. Once the men drew closer, Farad went to clasp hands with one of the men before giving him a hard hug. He then dragged the man over to where Harry was standing, still sipping on the hot liquid greedily.
"This is my brother Hadar eagle eye, he is a great hunter for the Bear tribe." Farad introduced proudly, patting the man on his broad back.
"My brother this is Námondil, caller of the fire breather. He came on the singing fish during the cold night to aid our tribe. He is our honoured guest and tribe friend." Farad said, making Harry blink as this was the first he'd heard of that name. Although it was better than the-boy-who-lived, for sure.

"I am honoured to meet you Hadar eagle eye." Harry said in a gravelly voice, eyeing the man somewhat bleary eyed still not completely restored by the short hours of rest he'd gotten. The man inclined his head and stared at the young boy in surprise after his brother's lavish introduction.

"We see the great fire breather in the night, we know that you come this way and I worry that the fire has eaten you all. I am glad to see my brother and the tribe alive." Hadar stated, giving his brother a fond look. Behind the two brothers the men Hadar had come with were being regaled by some of Farads men, who were gesturing wildly and pointing between Harry, the sky and the black scorch marks blemishing the ground. Harry quickly excused himself saying that he needed to find Tátá and get his belongings ready for travel again.

"Come we will walk together as we get ready brother." Farad suggested pulling his brother with him after nodding respectfully at Harry. As soon as they were a few steps away he began speaking in low tones in his own language and Harry wondered if they were discussing him. He glanced again towards the new hunters and found them eyeing him in various looks of disbelief and wonder and sighed as he yet again found himself a matter of speculation. He was grateful that they hadn't deemed him too dangerous after seeing his magic so obviously.
The two tribes soon joined as Farads tribe caught up with the Bear tribe and Harry could feel the mood among the hunters lift as the larger number of people brought a feeling of safety. Tátá, who had made the journey before, pointed out some hills in the distance as their destination and Harry felt a strange feeling of apprehension come over him. He'd been sheltered with Farads tribe, cocooned from the outside world and the uncertainty it brought with it. But Harry told himself it was what he'd been wanting all along and to man up and face the new world he was living in.

A couple of slow days walking and they had drawn nearer to the hills, which were starting to look more like low mountains the nearer they got. Harry sat chewing on a bit of dried meat, resting as the others, when he spotted one of the large dogs sneaking back into the camp with something white in its mouth. It didn't look like a rabbit and Harry's curiosity piqued, he quickly stood and made it over to the dog who raised his hackles at him. The dogs seemed to know that he'd been the one to call forth the demon fire and now avoided him if they could. His own dogs only answered to Tátá now and all but growled if he came too close to them.
"Drop it." He ordered as he realised what the dog had in its mouth. It stared at him with luminous blue eyes and gave a low growl. Harry gave the dog a hard stare, he was not backing down.
"Drop it!" He ordered again and the dog gave a resigned whine before dropping the feathered ball of white fluff on the ground. It went slinking away to sulk at its missed play item, casting furtive looks over its shoulder in case the human changed his mind or sent fire after him.
The fluffy ball stayed still where it had been dropped and Harry worried that perhaps it was too late to save the young chick. He carefully grabbed hold of it and smiled at the small beady black eyes glaring crossly at him from a white downy face. Looked like it was a stubborn little baby bird, Harry thought as he looked it over, he wasn't sure what it was other than that it was a raptor of some sort.
"Hello little one, where did that dog pick you up from I wonder." Harry muttered as he looked around. There weren't many trees around and the once he could see didn't look like they had nests in them. The dog could have picked the bird up from anywhere really as they were allowed to roam freely when not pulling on the sleds.
"I guess you're with me then." Harry told the bird who opened its mouth as if warning him not be cheeky, its beady eyes still glaring at him reproachfully as if he was at fault for its current fate. Harry grinned and held it closer, bringing his fur cloak around it so it didn't have the chill wind blowing on it. It would no doubt need some food in its belly he pondered, it was some time since he last had an owl to care for. Might be good to have a messenger bird again as he'd be able to send letters to Tátá and Farad to see how the boy was doing. He snuck a peek under his coat at the bird again and snorted as its beady little eyes locked on to his at once.
"Spunky aren't you." He muttered before grimacing as one of the sharp talons dug into the hand holding the bird. He'd have to give her a good name, a female one he was willing to bet as he seemed to have a knack for attracting spirited female birds, so far he'd had Hedwig, a Cleo and Athena.
Tátá was very excited to get to help with the baby eagle. He told Harry about hearing of hunters using the golden eagles for hunting. Harry was fairly certain that the little fluff ball would never manage to catch a deer, no matter what Tátá had heard from the hunters. The rest of the journey seemed to pass quickly and as they got to their allotted space and set up their tents Harry wondered where the time had gone.

The rows upon rows of tents made Harrys mind spin. To think that the different Lossoth tribes made up into such a large group of people was mindboggling. There had to be thousands of people gathered between the hills on either side of them. The mood was upbeat and relaxed no doubt because of the security of so many people being gathered together.
"Come on Tátá we have some shopping to do before we go our separate ways. You will need to show me which plants you will be able to collect yourself and which you need to purchase enough of to last the year." Harry said grabbing the boy's shoulders with a grin. Tátá smiled back half-heartedly as he had made clear that he thought that Harry should stay with them rather than go out into the world alone.
"Besides you said that you knew the best leather worker, I need a good glove if I'm to have little Isis with me. Her talons are sharp as knifes already." Harry muttered, poking the eaglet on his shoulder playfully. He got a small affronted chirp and a nip on the ear in response making him grin. Yes, he liked her a lot already even if she had drawn blood as she tried to chop his fingers off the first few times he had tried feeding her.

"Ovlin make good leather, it last many years then you come back and buy new glove for eagle." Tátá said, looking hopeful at the thought of meeting Harry again, before motioning for Harry to follow him as he led them through the maze of tents.
There were too many people Harry thought as they pushed their way through the crowds. They were all ordered according to tribes and alternated sections every year so that all tribes had the most coveted sections equally. This year the thunder tribe had the most coveted spot up on a hill in the centre of all the tents. Tátá had told him they hunted by making a loud racket so as to confuse their pray, hence the thunder name.
How Tátá was able to know where to go Harry would never know but the boy led him through the maze of tents with sure steps and they did indeed find the tanner hard at work. Harry bought two leather gloves, much to Tátá's disappointment as it meant he'd have to wait longer until they met again.
Next they visited the shoemaker as Harry spotted the tent not far from the tanners, he bought two sets of soft shoes which made it feel as if he was walking on clouds and a pair of good quality boots. As he was traveling south he wouldn't have need of the thick fur lined boots he'd been given by the tribe as they would get too hot. The two shoppers didn't get back to their own tent until late in the afternoon at which point Harry started to think that he might have to keep that third trunk after all as he seemed to be accumulating more stuff rather than lightening his burden.
As he wasn't going to be able to keep the dogs or their sled it was rather important to not gather too much stuff. Farad had suggested that he pay for a lift to a nearby town where he would get a better price for a horse and cart than here at the market as the town sellers always upped the price when selling horses to the Lossoth. Harry wasn't sure if that was because the Lossoth would sometimes eat the horses if it got too cold or because the towners were a bit racist of the nomads.

He'd spotted some men who looked different from the Lossoth or the townies, as Farad called them. The men whom Tátá called rangers were taller than all the others and felt different to Harry as well. They had a stronger feeling of magic to them like Tátá, at least the few Harry had gotten close enough to as they seemed to like keeping to themselves.
A day later he was sat outside Farads tent chewing thoughtfully on a small loaf of bread.
"They are rangers and their tribes are scattered across the lands, great thinking people who live long life. Three lives of sons I have heard tell they can live but not as long as Star people tribe who live always." Farad whispered, catching Harry staring at the dark haired men standing by one of the stalls the Warg tribe had set up.
"They also fight the enemy good and they bring worthy gods from many lands to trade." He added pointing at the small trinkets he'd bought for his sons all made out of fine quality wood and stone. Harry had marvelled earlier at the details on a stone horse which looked almost alive. The stone figurines mane looked as if it could move if the wind caught it but Harry had touched it and knew it was all solid stone. Dwarf made he guessed, having seen some other dwarf made goods on a market stall when shopping with Tátá.

"Would they have maps for sale?" Harry asked making Farad shrug in disinterest. The tribe had no use of maps, paper or books as they didn't know or want to read or write. Tata would be the only tribe member with that skill when Harry left, even Àslat had refused to learn the skill thinking it useless. Tátá was grateful now however, as it meant he would be able to receive letters from Harry, which had cheered the boy up considerably.
"I think I will go and see their stalls." Harry said standing up before he brushed of the grass from his trousers and slowly but purposefully ambled off towards the outer rim of the big gathering of tents. Along the way he had to stop himself several times from buying more things. He really would be forced to do another cull of the insides of his trunks, it wouldn't do to travel with so much stuff.

That night a great party was held in Harry's honour, many tankards of mead were drunk and many thanks were given both by Harry and by the tribe. Even the shaman, who had pointed Harry out to the other shamans, gave Harry a stiff yet respectful goodbye. The shamans who didn't stay with their tribes had held a gathering of their own soon after the last tribe's arrival. What they did there Harry didn't know and honestly didn't want to know. He just knew that they all gave him respectful nods whenever they saw him and tended to stay away from him holding on to their staffs tightly.
Harry stayed in Farads tent after the party started to simmer down as the leader wanted to stay up and talk.
Harry had brought Lejá and her sons' small gifts as a way of giving thanks for their care during his stay with them. Farad had refused any gifts from Harry for himself saying that his life was a gift that could never be repaid and that by accepting more of Harry than already given would bring dishonour on his family.
The five boys present, as the oldest had made it back travelling with one of the other tribes, were all handed a gold coin each as Harry had found out that they held a great value here. One of his gold galleon was worth 30 silver coins or 360 small silver pennies, which had caused him some trouble when he'd tried paying with a galleon and made the seller eye him with large eyes. When Farad protested at the valuable gifts, Harry said that the boys could refuse the coins when they were older but that until then they were to be held for them. Farad had finally nodded when it became clear that Harry wouldn't fold on the issue. Lejá, who Harry had become quite fond of was gifted a bracelet Harry had made using gems he'd found in his trunk and wood he'd collected and etched runes into. She had blinked as he brought them out and carefully accepted them under Farads gaze. Harry had etched and powered several runes of protection, luck and good health and he hoped that it would do as he wished. The bracelet felt light yet heavy as he held it in his hands, the magic contained by the runes almost made the jewellery vibrate in his hand.

As he clasped it around her wrist he suddenly found himself feeling thick-headed as if his head was stuffed with cotton. Everything around him came to a halt and all he could hear was the quick beats of a heart. Fast and strong it beat to a rhythm as old as time. When he opened his eyes he found himself on an open field, sunlight lighting up the summer grass making it look like molten gold. Flowers in all colours bloomed in the tall grass as he looked around.
A flash of moving gold made him frown before he realised it was the long hair of a young girl who had stood up from the ground she'd been seated on. She spun in a circle and her long hair shone brightly as it danced around her. A moment later a dark head popped up and an older looking Tátá stood from the ground to follow the little girl who was dancing away across the field, her laughter sounding like the chimes of small bells. The young man was carrying a basked on his arm filled with plants of different kinds no doubt out collecting potions ingredients.

"Námondil." A voice gasped suddenly and he found himself unexpectedly back in the gloomy tent still holding Lejás hand, her eyes locked on to his with a look of wonder. The others were all sat quietly eyeing the both of them with varying looks of concern and confusion. Harry who could still hear the fast heartbeats beating away in his ears, eyed Lejá in surprise.

"I think you might be pregnant." He mumbled before snatching his hand off of hers as if burnt. What was he saying, he wondered before frowning at himself. He clearly needed to use magic more often, if it was going to make him see stuff he wasn't asking to see. Lejá eyed him for a moment in silent contemplation before placing her hand on her stomach with a gasp as his meaning became clear to her. She quickly hissed something to Farad in their own language before turning back to eye Harry silently. Farad eyed Lejá with big eyes before turning to look at Harry, mouth open in surprise as he too became aware of what Harry was implying.

"What is her name Námondil, my daughter with hair of gold?" She finally asked in a low tone, eyeing him seriously whilst stroking her stomach with soft circling motions. Harry drew a deep breath before shrugging none puzzled.

"I don't know Lejá, this has never happened to me before." He finally said after taking a moment to gather his wits.
"You saw it too?" He then asked in surprise, watching as she nodded solemnly.

"Tátá guarded her and they were in the summer pastures north from star people tribe's lands. She is beautiful, like a sunbeam sent down from the golden mother herself." Lejá said dreamily as she continued to stroke her stomach lovingly.
"A daughter Farad, as bright as the sun." She mumbled teary eyed looking down at her midriff in wonder.

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Chapter three done, I hope you enjoyed it.
It will take longer for the next chapter to arrive as I'm still in the middle of writing it.