Chapter 1
It's dark outside as the first drumbeat reaches Askella. The sound was so low, she was sure it wasn't even audible. She felt it in her bones, the deep rattle of a drum vibrating through her body. It was more unsetteling than the stories had told. Blindly, she grabbed her wand from under her pillow and made a light. Rumours had been flying around the wizarding world for a few weeks, so the sign wasn't a surprise, but it was sooner than Askella had expected. She wanted to call her cousin to find out what was going on, but knew she wouldn't get an answer in time. So she pulled herself out of the comfort of her bed and began to pack a bag with the essentials. The drum strokes had settled into an unfamiliar rhythm that echoed through her entire body, and Askella couldn't stop herself from swaying to the beat as she packed. Rummaging through her drawers, Askella packed things for both summer and winter, not knowing where it would take her. Lastly, she pulled her phone from its charger and pocketed the latter. Never forget a good charger. Looking at her lock screen, she checked her messages, but saw no new ones. Only a few minutes had passed since the drumming had begun, and she was sure that the other magical beings would discover the death in about an hour, when the drumming would have become so loud that even the less sensitive could hear it. The centaurs would not bother to tell the wizards and witches that their Arkhon was dead.
The Arkhon was dead, that was the meaning of the deep beat. A siren call to all magical beings that the seat of the most powerful magical being was up for grabs. Of course, only witches and wizards would aspire to such a title - only they had the ambition, the strength and the will to rise above all others and prove themselves to be the most powerful, the most brilliant, the rightful leaders of the wizarding world. Askella had seen enough of what was to come not to be tempted. She had enough power, she didn't need any more of these terrible, world-changing visions. The knowledge echoed through her mind: Albus Dumbledor, the Arkhon, had died. How, she couldn't figure out at the moment, but it had been an event in the making. Or rather, visions had told her what was to come for the wizarding world. Things she still couldn't fathom, and all she knew was that one image echoed through all her prophecies: a black throne with a hooded figure, his legs thrown over the armrest. She could make out a few figures in the background, but the vision was still too hazy to make out more than their blurred outlines. In all, there were five people in the throne room.
With the deep rhythm came the need to trace it back to its source. Askella had expected this part. Every time the Arkhon died, a few wizards and witches were chosen, for some incomprehensible reason, to act as judges and gamemasters in the ensuing contests for the title of Arkhon. It was said that these people would be the first to experience the low call and would disappear within the hour of old Arkhon's death. The call had reached Askella and she checked her bag one last time. Everything she needed was in the small bag on her back, and grabbing her phone, Askella apparated. Trusting the pull of the drums to guide her, she disappeared from her room. The pull was different, it was like a gentle breeze, a gentle tug from a friend in the right direction, not the forceful pull and squeeze that was usually the apparition. The twisting sensation that had made her throw up once or twice when she was younger was gone, and Askella wished it would be this easy every time she apparated in the future.
Askella felt the sun on her face as she reappeared, and she couldn't resist holding her face in the sun for a few seconds before a fresh breeze hit her. She took a deep breath and scanned her surroundings. She was in a courtyard, with an arched fountain in the middle, dry leaves still on the ground, and it seemed as if no one had been here for a long time. Still, the old building felt as if people had lived here, and if in just a second they would be streaming out of the huge entrance, but Askella didn't hear a sound. She walked softly around the fountain, gazing at the stone arch above it with a familiar emblem. Each quarter depicted a different animal, a lion pouncing on a snake at the top, a badger and an eagle taking flight below. It was the crest of the Arkhon. Askella knew she was in the castle the Arkhon called home, it was called Hogwarts. No one really knew where it was, for the Arkhon could change its location as often as he pleased. There was always a small village nearby, known as Hogsmade, where his advisors and ministers could apparate to, and where the wizarding world would occasionally go shopping. It was its own little pocket world, which could pop up at any given location. The castle of the Arkhon was also the place where the games were held, which was the only time a large number of people would enter the place. Otherwise, only ministers, important visitors and other staff were permitted entry. Askella thought it was a shame that such a beautiful building was not accessible to more people.
Entering through the large arch on the opposite side of the fountain from where she had arrived, Askella followed the pull that had brought her here. It had weakened, but it hadn't subsided. The walls were littered with magical paintings whose eyes seemed to follow her every step, in fact they seemed to follow her from painting to painting, always a few metres behind, just out of sight. Askella didn't care. Her path took her around the castle, up some moving staircases, down a few steps until she stood before a golden gargoyle statue. A quiet voice whispered something to her and Askella said aloud: "Shrieking Sherbet," it was a sweet she did not particularly like. But her words had an unexpected surprise, and the gargoyle began to move, revealing a staircase. Askella followed the steps upwards until she stood in an office. The upper walls of this tower room were also painted, the lower part was full of bookshelves, and a few steps led up to a podium with a huge desk. Behind it appeared to be some sort of astronomical device, something Askella had seen in an observatory before.
"Hello, Regulus Black," a painting had spoken. With quick eyes, Askella searched for the voice and found it in an old man with half-moon glasses and a long grey beard. He had kind eyes as he smiled down at her. "You are Albus Dumbledor," Askella had recognised him almost immediately. She'd seen him a few times from afar, and her father hadn't had many kind words for him. "I am, nice to meet you, Head Judge." Askella blinked. She must have misheard. "You must be mistaken."
"Aren't you the youngest of the Black children?" "Well, I am." "And are you not a seer whose prophecies have been accurate and precise?" "Yes, but..." "Well, then I don't suppose I've chosen the wrong person." "But my family didn't support you." "Not everyone has to, and there are some in your family who have supported me." "He's not my blood anymore."
A brief silence fell over the office after Askella's loud outburst. "Well, I hope your dispute won't cloud your judgement." "If you choose me to be your judge, it will not." Askella wasn't sure if she was telling the truth, but she wasn't going to think about that now. He was not relevant. "So what exactly do you want me to do?" Albus Dumbledor smiled through his half-moon spectacles: "As you know, there are always five judges overseeing the competition. As Head Judge, you will be the last person to cast a vote, acting as a possible tiebreaker, and you will also be the main organiser of the various games, which will consist of contests of Bravery, Knowledge, Loyalty and Strategy. You'll be responsible for organising them, with the help of the other four judges and the staff at your disposal". "That sounds complicated. I'm not sure I want to."
Albus Dumbledor chuckled slightly and said: "I think you will find that you grow with the task. You have at least a month to plan before the champions arrive." "What kind of tasks shall I create? I suppose I can't just design a maze and kidnap their loved ones and put them in a lake to be rescued." "Whatever you think is best to test all the qualities a future Arkhon should have, they will play against you, my dear. For your task you can use everything you see in this castle and this room." "That's a thought. I can work with that. But I still don't understand." "You will, you will, Regulus." Dumbledore's portrait fell silent after that, and Askella felt as if she had been dismissed. Her father had a similar look on his face sometimes. The office was more interesting than the other portraits of the late Arkhons, so Askella started looking through the books and other things Dumbledor had collected. She found a few things, like sweets, she did not like them, letters, she skimmed a few of them, most of them were to close friends and family and none of them had any useful information, a few potions, she knew all of them and none of them had any interesting effects, some magical artefacts, which were more charlatan than real, and a handful of other things, like photos, books and other personal items. Askella was a little disappointed to find nothing of interest, but was happy to leave the office.
At the bottom of the stairs, a small creature was waiting for her. It was a house elf, rather small and wearing an old shirt that almost reached her knees. She smiled happily as she saw Askella coming down the stairs: “My name’s Blue, Judge. s’pose to take her to her rooms.” "Thank you, Blue." The little elf began to walk down the corridor, pointing out various places in the castle: the library, various conference rooms, the great hall, the way to the greenhouses, the courtyard where Askella had appeared, which led to the forest, the lake and other places on the grounds, and the different towers. Askella was also shown the common rooms where the different teams would be housed, and Blue explained that the champions would all be divided into four different teams. They were named after the first four judges to hold the games: Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff. Each judge would represent a house and do the administrative work. Blue had shown her almost the whole castle when she finally led her to the north tower, where Askella was told her room would be. It was accessed by a trap door and Askella slowly climbed up the ladder. She was exhausted, had the call of Hogwarts not roused her from her bed.
The tower room was bathed in a golden light as the sun sat. A glance out the window told Askella that they were somewhere in the mountains, not high enough to be the Alps, but she could find out exactly where she was tomorrow. “This her room, Judge. Breakfast’ll be in the kitchen. Make herself at home. If she needs anything, will bring it to her.” “That will do for now, Blue. You may leave.” "Yes, Judge. Good eve!” With a snap of her fingers, Blue disappeared, leaving Askella alone in the large room. Askella set down her small bag and with a flick of her wand, her clothes, laptop and some of her favourite books flew out of the pouch and into the cupboard and desk. Pulling out her phone, Askella checked her messages and found that she had no reception and couldn't find the wifi password. Mentally she put it on her to do list, with no desire to call for Blue again, she had to postpone her checking in with her friends and family. They probably already knew what had happened and had found the note she had left on the table. With no other means of contact, Askella pulled out a mirror. It was an old Black heirloom that her mother had given her as a means of contacting her in dire situations. Technically, this wasn't a life or death situation, but Askella tapped the mirror anyway.
Within seconds, her mothers face was illuminated in the mirror. "Hello Mother, just as anticipated I was taken to Hogwarts."