Post by Max Kameren on Jun 22, 2021 14:12:40 GMT -5
“What do you remember about the wards?”
“You have got to be shitting me--!” Alex shouted. “What part of I haven’t been here since I was fucking twelve […] implies to you I KNOW HOW TO FIX IT???”
“Oh for god’s sake - How can we possibly be related when you’re so BLOODY USELESS!” Curse shouted over his brother’s rant, bellowing down Alex’s protests as he fortified the shield around them “How do you have NO memory of your life in that fucking house! You don’t remember anything from that week? The most consequential week of your bloody life?! He had to activate the wards somehow, I just need SOMETHING to go on and you have NOTHING! USELESS!”
A flash of light rolled over them and Curse cut their shield and thrust the sword in the air, attracting and diverting the Estate’s defensive lightning strike into the stone plinth. As he did so he reared back, head butting Alex from behind and knocking him out.
“I have to do everything myself,” He muttered bitterly, sliding the sword back into its place in the plinth and temporarily sating their angry ancestors.
.. .. .. .. ..
Alex was right: fighting against the Kameren Estate’s wards would be a difficult task. Twelve hitwizards and four aurors had died in the attempt to bring Cedric Kameren to justice before their deranged parent ever raised his wand. But even then, eventually a few aurors slipped through the cracks. There was a way through, either by sleight-of-hand or brute force, and Curse was gifted at both. They were also missing a crucial component that Curse had at his disposal - a true, pureblood Kameren son.
When Curse was younger, before cutting his teeth as an auror and becoming a recognizable figure, he had worked undercover as a Junior Auror with his own mentor. To fall into the smuggling ring that was their target and gain access to their headquarters, they had had to break the ring’s wards and key themselves in. They used an existing member of the group to replicate their access, magically cutting themselves a new key to access their target safely. Curse would use Alex the same way, as the key to cut himself into a copy that the Kameren Estate would recognize as a worthy Kameren descendent. Though Curse was sure this would be a much more complex process, he’d found his starting point.
“If we don’t have an answer, we make our own.” Curse said to himself as he worked, etching runes in waves around his brother’s unconscious body in waves radiating off the graveyard path. Curse was only a Kameren by blood and coincidence; he didn’t have family, good or bad. He had always skated by on his own intellect and resourcefulness, and this would be no different.
“Curse!” Alex came back to the living with a cough, then scrambled cautiously to his feet.
“Don’t move,” Curse barked without looking up from the intricate spellwork he was now placing around himself, “You’ll obscure the runes.”
When Curse finished with his own mandala of rune work he carefully tip-toed out of its center, circling Alex with eyes on the ground to inspect his work for any errors. With what they were about to do, accuracy could be the difference between life and death. Only when he’d deemed his work satisfactory did he finally glance up at Alex and catch his confusion. He’d earned an explanation to go with the bump on the head Curse had given him, he supposed.
“You’re keying me into the wards.” Curse turned back to the statue’s empty plinth and cocked his head. “You remember our lesson on how to redirect attack spells like say, lighting? Here - “
Curse pulled the sword back down off its plinth and tossed it over his spellwork for Alex to catch by the handle. As soon as the scraping of the blade left the stone the night sky darkened once again with clouds, and the wind picked up. “Hold up the sword! When the lightning strikes, direct it to me.” He gingerly moved back into his own runic circle and stowed his wand, locking eyes with Alex with a steely certainty. “We can do this, aright? Get ready.”
The thunder began to roll.
“You have got to be shitting me--!” Alex shouted. “What part of I haven’t been here since I was fucking twelve […] implies to you I KNOW HOW TO FIX IT???”
“Oh for god’s sake - How can we possibly be related when you’re so BLOODY USELESS!” Curse shouted over his brother’s rant, bellowing down Alex’s protests as he fortified the shield around them “How do you have NO memory of your life in that fucking house! You don’t remember anything from that week? The most consequential week of your bloody life?! He had to activate the wards somehow, I just need SOMETHING to go on and you have NOTHING! USELESS!”
A flash of light rolled over them and Curse cut their shield and thrust the sword in the air, attracting and diverting the Estate’s defensive lightning strike into the stone plinth. As he did so he reared back, head butting Alex from behind and knocking him out.
“I have to do everything myself,” He muttered bitterly, sliding the sword back into its place in the plinth and temporarily sating their angry ancestors.
.. .. .. .. ..
Alex was right: fighting against the Kameren Estate’s wards would be a difficult task. Twelve hitwizards and four aurors had died in the attempt to bring Cedric Kameren to justice before their deranged parent ever raised his wand. But even then, eventually a few aurors slipped through the cracks. There was a way through, either by sleight-of-hand or brute force, and Curse was gifted at both. They were also missing a crucial component that Curse had at his disposal - a true, pureblood Kameren son.
When Curse was younger, before cutting his teeth as an auror and becoming a recognizable figure, he had worked undercover as a Junior Auror with his own mentor. To fall into the smuggling ring that was their target and gain access to their headquarters, they had had to break the ring’s wards and key themselves in. They used an existing member of the group to replicate their access, magically cutting themselves a new key to access their target safely. Curse would use Alex the same way, as the key to cut himself into a copy that the Kameren Estate would recognize as a worthy Kameren descendent. Though Curse was sure this would be a much more complex process, he’d found his starting point.
“If we don’t have an answer, we make our own.” Curse said to himself as he worked, etching runes in waves around his brother’s unconscious body in waves radiating off the graveyard path. Curse was only a Kameren by blood and coincidence; he didn’t have family, good or bad. He had always skated by on his own intellect and resourcefulness, and this would be no different.
“Curse!” Alex came back to the living with a cough, then scrambled cautiously to his feet.
“Don’t move,” Curse barked without looking up from the intricate spellwork he was now placing around himself, “You’ll obscure the runes.”
When Curse finished with his own mandala of rune work he carefully tip-toed out of its center, circling Alex with eyes on the ground to inspect his work for any errors. With what they were about to do, accuracy could be the difference between life and death. Only when he’d deemed his work satisfactory did he finally glance up at Alex and catch his confusion. He’d earned an explanation to go with the bump on the head Curse had given him, he supposed.
“You’re keying me into the wards.” Curse turned back to the statue’s empty plinth and cocked his head. “You remember our lesson on how to redirect attack spells like say, lighting? Here - “
Curse pulled the sword back down off its plinth and tossed it over his spellwork for Alex to catch by the handle. As soon as the scraping of the blade left the stone the night sky darkened once again with clouds, and the wind picked up. “Hold up the sword! When the lightning strikes, direct it to me.” He gingerly moved back into his own runic circle and stowed his wand, locking eyes with Alex with a steely certainty. “We can do this, aright? Get ready.”
The thunder began to roll.
