Chapter 1 Awakening of the Titania
Sometime in June 1923, In the land unsullied by human eyes, last bastion of the Fair Folk
The sole remaining resident woke up from her slumber upon sensing something incredibly odd regarding the world. She sensed something she had not for a very long time.
She sensed a relative. One with quite a bit of potential. Who seemed to have come within inches of being annoyingly out of reach for a while.
Also, some insane bugger managed to throw the world out of whack somehow.
Bloody hell. Time magic? This will take me a proper while to fix. A couple months, at least. Need to wake those old buggers at that Table too. Should I get the whatever-the-heck the chief magus is called to help me? Probably.
Alright, time for me to wake up.
In a forest that was eerily quiet, a realm of green and light, where the one who believed herself to be the last of trueblooded magic, stirred and woke. She was the last Titania in the world. Of course, this belief had been shared by her predecessor. And her predecessor before her.
They had not hit the mark correctly before, and apparently neither had she! She had a proper successor, who passed all of the trials of the world! And apparently, with flying colours too, if the immense spotlight she was giving off was of any indication.
And if the form stirring from her decades-long slumber had anything to say about it, she would immediately snatch her successor from her misery and bring her to her true post.
But she had duties to attend to. In her slumber, a Leshy seemed to have played its grandest trick yet, with the victim being her successor, and the tool being the world itself.
She got up from her comfortable sleep, standing on the forest floor, nude as the day she was born, with hair a shade of crimson that would put even the fiercest burning of flames to shame, skin so fair mediaeval poets would doubtless write countless poems to her glory and eyes hidden behind a blindfold.
As she stepped forward, she picked up a stick from the ground and waved it around.
“How does this go again? Um, I remember! Here we go… Oh Wonderful Spirits of Mine Woods, Clothe me as I Protect thee. Induite, Me!!!”
As she waved the stick around, the forest around her reacted, seeming to stir into a semblance of life.. Where before, the woods surrounding her was a jungle like any other in the world, if a bit odd and having an air of mystery about it, for having a woman hibernating within it for an unknown time. Now however, as her magic flooded the forest, the residents began to stir.
“I will be gone for a short time. My successor has been found!”
At this, the forest surrounding her seemed to somehow come to life, the greens turning verdant, the soil turning richer. The very air seemed to clear. The time of sleep and rest had passed. Winter was done and it was time for them to party like no fairy had partied before!
As her subjects got up from their slumbers, the woman walked to the entrance of her little heaven.
With every step, vines and leaves covered her till, the final step before reaching the two intersecting branches, her garbs of plants morphed themselves, changing into a rider’s garb, with leather shoes, fine tunic, hose and pants. To finish the look, she transfigured herself a dark cloak. After all, every stranger coming to an important figure to lay out an exposition ought to look mysterious and dashing.
She touched the doorway, and told it to take her where she needed to go, and she fluxed away.
Her first guess had been right. It had taken her several months to finish the preparations on fixing the world from the prank the damned Leshy had played. It was going to be a costly magic, but she was not going to bear the cost alone.
Heart of the British Ministry of Magic, Deep within the newly formed Department of Mysteries
“Are you sure about this, Milady Titania? A spell of such proportions will have countless ripples through the magical world. Even one of your stature could-”
“Yes, sir Chief Warlock. I am totally sure. Are the members you brought with you trustworthy? They will be the only ones to remember the history made up by the Leshy. Are you absolutely certain they will not twist this ritual for their own benefits?”
Behind the one referred to as the Chief Warlock by Titania, a man who looked to be well into his eighties, and used to being in a position of authority despite deferring to Titania was a young-ish man with a splendid beard and another old man, who did not look a day over seventy, despite being the oldest man present.
Not the oldest being present though.
“I see that you are still kicking, Nicolas. How is your wife? She was quite the cheeky little girl, last I recall. If I were not so young at the time, I might have just made her my successor, tradition be damned.”
The old man, now known to be Nicolas Flamel, spoke with a fondness in his voice, with a hint of exasperation as well, “Milady… that was over six hundred years ago. My wife… has not changed greatly since then. Still the same pain in my lower back as she ever was. Will you believe me when I say that she is more likely to blow up her potions room in her insane endeavours now than she was back then? Of course, now she knows proper charms, enough to protect herself from mundane harm, and most of the extraordinary that I could think of, at least.”
“Why do you think I wanted her to be my successor? She has fairy blood in her very soul! Fairies cannot be fairies without a little bit of mischief every now and then. We won't be deserving of our excellent reputations otherwise!”
The old men both sighed and shook their heads in total synchronisation, while the middle aged man behind them looked at the conversation between the wisest people known to him and a seemingly young fiery haired lady in the prime of her life. The only thing that could possibly be considered remotely strange about her were her clothes, which were morphing and changing as they spoke, from a mediaeval dress, complete with finery to clothes that resembled plants and approached the scandalous, barely covering her essentials.
Interestingly enough, the only item that covered her that remained constant was her cloak, so the younger man expected that she was transfiguring her clothes using precast magic, a very difficult branch of magic to master, that would have taken multiple hours to cast by even the most proficient of casters.
But why go through all of that trouble for a mere quick-changing spell?
Before he could speak, however, he was beaten to the punch by the lady herself. “Oh, and a fresh face! Younger than I expected, but more than powerful enough to help out. Hmmm…”
The lady squinted at him suddenly, before huffing slightly. “You’re a Dumbledore, are you not? I can smell the scent of Fawkes from you, and you are practically panting at the opportunity to start asking me questions.”
She held up her hand, stopping the man before he could begin. “I cannot answer your questions, there is no time. Simply know this. I am Titania M. Fee. I am the queen of the folk who live under the hill. I was asleep for the past half-century and would have probably been asleep for another full century. I was awoken by my magic informing me that my successor has been found. She had been gravely injured, spilling a great deal of her blood over a hill.”
She took a deep breath, and continued, “But that is not the purpose for why I have summoned you here. A greater spirit, one that nearly rivals myself, though only under very specific circumstances, has set the magic of the world askew for its own amusement, likely to mess with my successor.”
She continued on, this time drawing a golden circle on the floor, with four points emblazoned.
“This spell will be the most demanding you will ever cast. Its sole purpose will be to fix any and all damage done to the world by the greater spirit.”
She stepped on one of the glowing spots on the circle, which immediately flashed twice before rising, trapping her feet within its grasp.
She seemed to be unconcerned by the hold the spell had over her, and proceeded to explain the costs to her audience.
“You three will be the only ones to remember the changed past. I can scramble the memories if you so desire, but I cannot promise that you will not be permanently affected by this.”
Then, she pointed at the youngest one present, Dumbledore, “You, you will be the most affected. I don’t know what exactly will happen, but you will have to shoulder the worst burden amongst the three of you. If you wish, you can back out. I can perform this spell with three.”
Dumbledore refused to back out of the ritual. But he did wish for an obfuscation spell, to muddle his memories of events.
The spell proceeded as planned. It would be one of the strongest spells Titania would have ever cast. It might not be considered her magnum opus, it was much too simple for that, but it would certainly be amongst her feats of glory, to be sung in revels in her honour.
She smiled as she thought about more songs in her own honour.
The muggles, as the wizards called the ones without much magic, were busy killing each other, with her precious daughter in their midst, along with some weird device made by the wretched Leshy. It hid her more and more from Titania, while also bringing her traits to the forefront.
The spell was readied in its totality in December. All four members were present. The supplementary wizards were there to help Titania in the anchoring of the ritual.
Titania was there to make sure the ritual did not go to hell. And to provide the spell that would set it off. And change the world forever. Hopefully to the shape it had been before the mess the Leshy had made.
Titania clapped her hands, and signed for her audience to stand in their spots. No sense in wasting time after all. “Well, gentlemen, this will be the last time you will ever see this lovely face ever again. If this spell worked properly, you will be wherever you would have been supposed to be, had this entire shenanigan never happened.”
She smiled at her small audience filled with wizards she respected most in the world.
“Lets get this party started!”
She clapped her hands and summoned her true wand, a simple branch from the deepest depths of her home.
She stomped her feet and the ritual jerked into action, binding the participants to their positions.
Behind her, Nicolas began the spell of stability, to let the ritual bear her powers without breaking.
To his right, on her five O’clock, the chief warlock enhanced the ritual with charms of protection, scrying and others, letting her spell work to the boundaries she had set, and perhaps even beyond.
“Just wait, my daughter”, said Titania, Queen to all fairies, mischievous and mystical creatures in the world, as she prepared to change the very world.
Just before she could finish her preparations, she felt her connection to her daughter spike. The Leshy had somehow managed to increase her daughter’s use of her fairy blood somehow. How intriguing. A question for a later time.
To her eight O’clock, the Dumbledore began his charms of protection, to protect her from the backlash.
The preparations were complete. She had all the tools she needed.
“Time to change the world.” She began her spell, and even before she uttered the very first syllable, her magic overflowed and fixed the broken history of the world.
“The world has been broken. Heed my wish, the wish of the Fairy Queen, and heal! Forget the damages caused by evil! Remember the past!”
“Damnatio Memoriae!”
The world shifted. In the Rhine, where hundreds died by the day, the wall of magic erased all traces of magic.
In Parisii, the history altered by magic was once more restored. Paris, the city of tourists, bird crap, and love was back, and the people enjoyed the afterglow of the Great War.
All around the world, mages were spun out of existence, their histories changed and their pasts rewritten.
All but for one little girl, fresh from testing a military device that should have killed her.
A little girl in a place no little girl should have been. In the army. No longer.