One Eyed Ascension

Harry was bored, when the friendly Miss Ericson had gotten him a plane ticket, so he'd get the chance to meet his newfound sister Harry had been excited, giddy and visibly smiling with glee. But after an hour on a rather quiet plane he'd quickly grown bored, he'd spent some time watching the clouds beneath him through the window as they soared over the world below, but even that hadn't kept him busy long. Thankfully Miss Ericson had gotten him a book to read. It was a boring book though. It featured no colourful pictures, no talking animals going on adventures like Dudley's books used to. But Miss Ericson had said that it'd be good for Harry to read it, that it'd help him stay healthy. He didn't understand how reading kept you healthy, but he trusted Miss Ericson, and he was bored really bored, so he took the plane and read it.

It was a book about legends, Specifically about the stars. Miss Ericson had said something about how "The world has many legends, many of whom can harness the stars themselves." and she insisted it'd be good for Harry to learn about those legends as he might run into them on his journey.

So, Harry was surprised to learn that the starbook he'd been given, was about the stars the Greeks and Chinese knew, about the people and gods who inhabited the sky, and the Chinese years governed by the different constellations. As well as the Grecian system denoting the stars to measure months instead.

Harry had to admit that he found some stories more interesting than others, he especially liked the Chinese stories of the animals racing across a river to win a race, it reminded him of Dudley's old books with the funny talking animals.

But for the rest the books stories all just made him sad at worst, and made him feel strange at best, like the story of the separated twins who missed each other until they finally reunited. He didn't know how to call it, but because the feelings were a strange blend of happiness and sadness, decided that must've been called hadness. And if anyone told him it was called something else then Harry would tell them wrong, because it was the perfect word for it and nobody would convince him otherwise.

By the time he finished the story about the brothers though, Harry had grown hungry and decided to get up and see if he could find the nice lady who'd come by with drinks for people shortly after they left. Harry was thirsty, and he knew the lady was still on the plane. Unless of course she brought a parachute.

And so, Harry stood up and left his seat, just as the plane flew over the Caucasus, just as the arrow struck.

The equestrian figure standing in the Borz looked across the continent, across the waters and had seen his target aproach. He'd come into this world with a simple goal. To protect his legacy from the curse of Koschei's blessed.

When last he'd walked this plane, His granddaughter had asked him for his blessing to build a school. Where children could learn to harness magic to defend themselves from the threats the world would throw against them. He'd given her his blessing, and even from his seat in the mountains he was named for he'd looked upon the children with a smile on his face until his "brother" had sent his beast to kill her.

He'd left for the netherworld soon after, there was nothing that interested him on this plane anymore. At least until someone placed a curse on his school, They sabotaged his institution and prevented his knowledge from being passed onto the heroes of a new era.

He would not stand this insult, this mockery of his domains. He who taught the greatest warriors would not be held back by a mortal wizard.

But he was always wise, and the sun itself had blessed him with the gift of the oracle. A gift he used to plan his strike, and he found that would he go there, travel to those lands to face his foe right then he'd surely die. A venomous serpent laid within those lands. And it would surely defeat him if he ever went there.

So, he hadn't gone. He divined from a distance, the nature of the curse and concluded it was connected to the life of its caster. He'd merely need to destroy the caster and the curse would pass. At least it would under normal circumstance. But the blessing of Koshei kept his foe alive, fragmented as he was, he remained bound to this plane. Worse still he could not divine the location of his fragments. He recognised the god whose magic sheltered them, of course he did, the mist might conceal what was within it, but the mist could not conceal itself. And he'd seen that mist before, when he trained its wielder and first taught him how to wield the bow.

But then, one of his fragments had moved away, unprotected and in the open. It took the form of a young child. Flying in that modern chariot. He made another oracle, to verify his path. And knowing this would serve to destroy the curse he gazed upon his target. Borr took aim and fired.

It happened so suddenly Harry didn't realise what exactly had happened.

One moment he was getting up to ask for water, the next there was a light shining like the sun as flames burned a hole in the hull of the plane. Next, he knew the plane fell onto the mountainside.

Stumbling from the wreckage, ears buzzing from the violent noise of the crash Harry emerged, bruised but otherwise alive, clothes singed by the heat radiating from the godly fires. When suddenly every muscle, every fibre of his being told him to duck. So, he did, and the arrow that would otherwise have taken out his head came whizzing past his ear, struck through the metal wreckage and flew off into unknown lands.

Immediately Harry turned to gaze towards his attacker and witnessed what at first glance appeared to be a man, a naked man holding a silver bow. At least it looked as such until the figure turned and revealed a second set of legs following behind the first.

The strange Horse-man readied another arrow, Harry glanced around, looking for a way out. A way to escape the inhuman archer. He knew there would be no cover behind him, if there was ever cover the plane had destroyed it, and as the plane itself hadn't stopped the second arrow Harry knew that direction wouldn't save him.

That left the other direction, the forest on the hill the guarded by the archer. A small chance, but the only one Harry had, so he took it. Charging past his foe he ducked beneath his arrow and ran into the forest.

"A swift youth you are, to dodge my arrows." A deep voice rumbled, as if the mountains themselves had spoken. "And wise to use the forest as your cloak, but these hills and woods are my homestead and domain, as they have ever been. I know these lands better then you could. And a burning cloak serves nothing but to harm it's wearer". The voice paused or a second. Not that Harry noticed, he was too busy running from the archer. But unfailingly the voice continued "Oh Apollon's fire grace my arrow". Harry heard the twang of the bowstring only after he saw the arrow strike the tree next to him. Tongues of flames dancing down it's shaft and into the trees, starting to rapidly spread through the forest. Smoke filled the forest as the fire spread and Harry ran from the sea of flames. A wall of fire burning right behind him.

And the arrows kept coming. Missing by a mere hair's breadth.

It was a stalemate. He could not currently make a killing blow. But neither could the youth.

Oh, the child was far from unarmed, his clothing scorched, and his hair was burned until none of it remained. But the child had an enduring spirit with few equals.

Borr smiled in approval as his prey ran from the flaming sea, as his foe dodged the arrows from his bow. Fleet of foot and quick of wit the child was impressive for one so young, in due time he could've been a hero on par with mighty Achilles, or strong like his grandson Thor. A tear ran down his face, knowing that this child would never get to grow to his potential.

But still Borr would not be swayed the child's spirit. The forest was all burned up now, his target could hide no longer. Now he only needed to keep the child in one place, so he couldn't dodge anymore.

"For I am the one who rules over all beasts"

Harry was getting exhausted. First his plane had come crashing to the ground. Then he'd been forced to dodge those unerring arrows, then the forest burned around him, his clothes caught fire and now here he was. Naked, amidst a broken and charred tree, now his foe had summoned a variety of beasts to his side.

And there were many. He could see hawks appear in the sky behind the archer, wolves rose from the earth alongside a boar, a doe, a bear, hunting hounds, there even appeared to be a dolphin amidst the menagerie. And unless he knew how to fight them all he was doomed. He needed to stop dodging and find a way to attack his foes. His foe was versatile in his legions, so he needed to be the same.

And the same instincts that had told him to dodge that arrow screamed to him. Words sounded chanted in his mind.

"For I am the one who tightens the throat". Within an instant he knew what he could do, felt the current of the wind blowing from the mountaintop towards his foe, a method to get his poison towards his intended target. A cloud of toxic gas secreted from Harry's hands moving up his arm and breathing out of all his pores. Carried towards the archer on the winds.

His foe saw the cloud of poison, and his face broke into a fearful expression for but a second. Before he steeled his resolve, fired an arrow, as his beasts charged forward.

The beasts ran into the cloud one by one, pack of wolves charged first, barking in a frenzy, tongues out in excitement to hunt their foe they fell first, the dolphin and guinea fowl followed shortly, as did the swan, the deer, the hunting dogs. The hawk lasted a little longer, as did the serpent and the dragon, the bear charged first and fastest and made it all the way to Harry's feet before it collapsed from the toxic air.

Only the Cicada would outlive its summoner. Who loosed who's final arrow failed its target as the fog that concealed its target claimed the archer.