Dreams

—We’ll arrive shortly— I hear the shouts and bustle of the officers preparing to dock at the port. That was his signal to start moving. Harry violently wrenched his right thumb, the hand still shackled to the bed by a heavy cuff.

Clack. The chilling sound of bone popping out of place echoed through the air. With agile precision, he freed his hand from the cold silver shackles. Without any hurry, and with no sign of emotion, he reset the thumb as if it were a simple task.

His cold, calculating eyes swept over the room, assessing every detail with surgical precision. The silence around him seemed taut, like a rope about to snap. The pain he should have felt was a stranger, something that had no place in his disciplined mind. As his thumb slipped back into its proper position, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It was the prelude to what was to come—a dance of shadows and steel that would soon engulf anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path.

He moved to the door and barricaded it with several objects, ensuring no one could enter.

Harry swallowed hard as he smashed the window of his cabin, his arm protected by the bed’s curtains to avoid cutting himself on the glass. With desperate force, he used a table leg to clear the remaining shards, creating an opening wide enough to escape from the side of the ship. With a powerful push of his legs, he leapt onto the railing, breathing heavily as he made his way towards the bow. He moved with stealth, careful not to make any noise that might betray his presence.

He halted in his tracks as he saw the most beautiful port he had ever seen approaching. The scent of the sea was still present, but absent of the rot that usually characterized the islands he called home. People strolled peacefully through the clean streets, exuding tranquility; there were no corpses scattered around, no slaves being sold, no depressing greenish mist. Instead, he saw lush vegetation, vibrant in colors and shapes he had never before encountered. The sunlight warmed his skin, bringing a strange new comfort.

Before he could marvel any further at the place, he felt a sharp pain in his thigh. Looking down, he noticed a small wound that had gone unnoticed, caused during his escape through the window. Though it bled a bit, he chose to ignore it. Without hesitation, he jumped from the ship’s bow and swam calmly towards the nearby shore, drawn by the promise of the unknown.

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Blaise Zanbini grinned widely as he elegantly swirled a glass of whiskey, comfortably seated in his spacious office. Everything was going perfectly; he had achieved his primary goals, and the prince would be pleased with his performance on this tedious mission.

The sound of a knock on the door pulled him from his reverie. In good humor, he said:

—Come in.

The tense face of his subordinate made Blaise’s smile stiffen.

—Sir, we have a situation — the subordinate reported, clearly indicating bad news.

Blaise’s smile tightened further. With a brusque movement, he grabbed his liquor and hurled the glass violently against the wooden wall, shards flying across the room while maintaining a strained smile. He rose calmly, though fury was evident in his eyes, and began walking after his subordinate. The young admiral’s boots thudded heavily on the wooden floor as he rushed towards Harry’s cabin.

Upon arrival, he found the elderly man who so disconcerted him. The old man smiled with a nearly cruel satisfaction as his men, visibly desperate, attempted to break open the cabin door with violent methods.

When the door finally opened, the admiral was the first to enter, followed closely by the elderly man. Blaise gritted his teeth upon seeing the cabin completely empty. Dumbledore approached the broken window and noticed a small trail of blood on the floor.

—Find him! — the admiral ordered, his eyes shining with a terrifying intensity. The smile that once adorned his face had completely vanished.

—He has left the ship — Dumbledore pointed out calmly, indicating the trail of blood that ended at the side of the ship.

Blaise glared at him in fury, but words escaped him as he watched from a distance as a brilliant white horse approached the port. A shimmering platinum mane was visible as the horse advanced, marking an imposing presence with an almost defiant elegance.

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Harry strolled calmly through the beautiful streets of the imperial city, marveling at the peace that emanated from the place. He had never seen a place so beautiful and serene. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread and exotic spices wafting from the nearby market. As he walked, he observed a vibrant display of delicious foods: golden breads, pastries adorned with fresh fruits, and aromatic spices that filled the air with tempting scents. The fruits displayed were in vivid colors and exotic shapes never before seen by Harry.

Children ran and played with contagious energy, their laughter ringing in the air like a joyful melody Harry had never had the privilege of hearing in Theres.

Fountains adorned the plazas with their sparkling arcs of crystal-clear water, shimmering in the sunlight. People, relaxed and content, strolled and conversed animatedly, enjoying the everyday life in this place. Harry had discarded his wig and mask, exposing his face to the world for the first time in many years. He felt a strange mix of liberation and vulnerability as he observed the smiling faces around him.

—Here you are— an entrancing voice interrupted Harry’s fascination with the new world. Looking up, he saw a man of overwhelming beauty. His eyes were liquid silver, and his long blonde hair fell gracefully over his shoulders. His face, perfectly sculpted, reflected an almost ethereal elegance.

Harry had let his guard down for a moment, and the man took advantage, grabbing his arm firmly. Harry’s initial surprise quickly turned into aggression. He tried to pull his arm away, but the man tightened his grip, his fingers like unbreakable talons.

—Let me go! — Harry growled through gritted teeth, struggling desperately to free himself. However, the man not only maintained his grip but also slid his other hand around Harry’s waist, holding him with an unsettling pressure.

—Not so fast — the man said with an enigmatic smile—. You’re not in a position to give orders. — He leaned his lips close to Harry’s ear and with a mischievous tone said—. If you wanted to escape, you shouldn’t have left something of yours behind. — His hand rested on the wound on Harry’s thigh, which was still bleeding a little but not visible beneath his tunic—. That’s why wizards are so useful.

Harry clenched his teeth in fury and, with a quick movement, attempted to knee the blond man. However, the man seemed to anticipate his moves. With surprising agility, he blocked the attack with his hands and, using the force of his grip, expertly threw Harry to the ground, leaving him sprawled in front of a crowd of onlookers.

As Harry got up and prepared to defend himself, a large number of armored men approached, clearing the civilians and creating a security perimeter. Realizing the arrival of the guards, Harry shouted:

—Help!

But the guards, who appeared to be elite of the city, didn’t even look at him. With a solemn gesture, they knelt in a show of respect toward the blond man, as if he were their superior.

The blond man, with a calm smile, made a hand gesture, pointing at Harry. In the blink of an eye, the guards surrounded Harry, their drawn swords gleaming in the sunlight. Harry, still on the ground, quickly stood up and took a defensive stance as he drew a silver dagger with a serpent-shaped handle. The blond man blinked in confusion as he touched his waist where his dagger had disappeared. Harry knew he couldn’t rely on the guards, who were clearly on the blond man’s side.

With a roar of determination, Harry charged at the blond man, delivering a direct slash to his face. The blond man dodged the blow with dazzling grace and counterattacked with a swift arm movement, pushing Harry aside. The fight intensified; blows and kicks exchanged rapidly, each combatant demonstrating impressive skill.

Harry tried to stay on the offensive, using his combat skills to try and overpower his opponent. However, the blond man seemed to be always one step ahead, anticipating every move with almost supernatural precision. At a crucial moment, the blond man managed to disarm Harry, throwing his weapon away and subduing him once again with a restraint technique that left Harry with no options.

With the battle reaching its peak and the guards watching in silence, the blond man finally controlled Harry, holding him down with a firm but calculated pressure. The blond man’s gaze, cold and calculating, reflected the determination not to let Harry escape again.

—If you don’t surrender, I’ll break your legs — he said with a sincere smile, his eyes shining with a mix of warning and amusement. Harry stopped struggling and lay still, the determination fading from his face.

—Prince! — Blaise exclaimed, running toward them with an air of urgency. Harry’s eyes widened in understanding, realizing he was in worse trouble than he thought.

—He’s hurting him — Albus, who had also arrived, said with a relaxed expression. The prince loosened his grip on Harry, and the tension in the air began to slowly dissipate.

—My carriage — the prince ordered with an authoritative tone, while he cleaned his clothes with indifference. A golden carriage approached with elegance, reflecting the sunlight in a majestic glow. The prince turned to his companions—. Get in— He ordered irritably. Turning to Harry sprawled on the floor, he said:

—You’ll sleep for a while — the prince said in a voice that left no room for argument. Harry blinked, confused. Before he could react, the prince delivered a precise strike to his neck. Harry lost consciousness, feeling only the faintest brush of air before slipping into darkness.

The last thing he felt was Blaise lifting him and roughly depositing him into the golden carriage. The vehicle moved smoothly as Harry lay motionless inside.

From his seat, the prince gazed out the window with a contemplative expression. As the carriage rolled along the road, he observed the landscape slowly receding with a calm, calculated air. His thoughts seemed as distant as the horizon, signaling the end of a chapter that was only beginning to unfold.

To be continued...