HP: The Artisan's Path Chapter 98

Hi all, 

Here’s the second chapter of the week. The final two chapters will be out tomorrow.   

Chapter 98

The Thunderbird carved through clouds as it approached the Pacific island, its engines humming quietly. Harry gazed out the window, watching the endless expanse of blue ocean roll beneath them. 

The jet was packed with equipment and personnel. Elizabeth's core research team occupied the front section: James Carter, Marcus "Boom" Thompson, Dr. Nola Willard, and Daniel Fischer. Harry sat with Maya, his grandparents, and girlfriends in the middle section, surrounded by crates of supplies and monitoring equipment. The rear compartment had been magically expanded to accommodate the camping gear and additional research tools needed for their overnight stay.

Blaise had decided to stay behind and explore the city some more. He had zero interest in exploring the island. The outdoors wasn’t his thing.  

"We're almost there," James called from the cockpit. "Everyone should get their first look at the island in about two minutes."

The island materialised through breaks in the cloud cover. From above, it formed a rough triangle, perhaps five kilometres across at its widest point. A dense jungle covered most of the terrain, but Harry could make out several clearings. The island didn’t look like anything special, but he was eager to explore it nonetheless. 

"There," Elizabeth pointed towards the eastern beach. "That's where the main battle took place."

Evidence of the recent conflict was visible even from their altitude. Scorch marks scarred the white sand, and several impact craters pockmarked the tree line. It made him wonder what Magi-tech they had used to cause so much devastation. 

The Thunderbird touched down in a cleared area just inland from the beach. Through the windows, Harry could see teams of wizards patrolling the perimeter. Their movements were precise and professional, but Harry noticed how frequently they scanned their surroundings, as if expecting another attack. 

Daphne leaned over to peer out the window. "Elizabeth mentioned the island has some rare ingredients. I wonder if she'll let me collect samples."

"Just take some," Harry suggested. "Better to ask forgiveness later than for permission now."

Susan frowned. "Don't give her ideas."

"I was already thinking along those lines," Daphne said.

Gabrielle grinned. "There are supposed to be magical creatures here as well. Good job I brought my trunk."

"Not you too," Susan grumbled.

As they disembarked, Harry felt it immediately—a subtle wave of magic that made his skin prickle.

"You sense it as well?" Daniel asked, noting his expression. "Whatever it is, it's interfering with our equipment. Started yesterday. If the Thunderbird weren't so heavily shielded, it might have been affected too."

"There don't seem to be any wards that could explain this sensation," Hermione observed. "I felt something similar when I first crossed the ward boundary at Hogwarts."

"That was the first thing we checked when we discovered the island," Daniel said. "Did you know we only found it a decade ago? Until then, it was completely hidden from us."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "How does one hide an entire island from wizards?"

Daniel shrugged. "We've found nothing to explain it. We've mapped the whole island, but nothing accounts for its mysterious appearance."

The team efficiently established a base camp, erecting magical tents and setting up their equipment. Maya worked with the technical team, attempting to calibrate their instruments to account for the strange magical interference.

"We've spotted some interesting magical creatures on the western side," Elizabeth announced once the camp was secure. "Nothing too dangerous, but definitely worth investigating. Who wants to take a look?"

"I'll go," Gabrielle volunteered instantly, her eyes lighting up. Susan nodded her agreement, and Minerva stepped forward to accompany them. A team of researchers joined their group, equipped with various capturing and recording devices.

"James and Nola will stay behind to guard the base camp. The rest of us can do a sweep of the island," Elizabeth continued. "We must be missing something. The Russians wouldn't have fought so hard for this place without reason."

As Harry prepared to head out with the others, he felt the familiar warmth of the Source responding to his presence. He excused himself so he could read the new message. 

==========

The host has received a new task!

Task #20: Discover the secret on the island within a day.

Reward: 50,000 general experience. 

==========

"It could have given me some more clues," Harry muttered, tucking the Source away. 

The task had a time limit. He couldn’t recall if he had ever been given a restriction like that before. Was it because he was only going to be here for a day or was there another reason? 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=

The group moved deeper into the forest, their footsteps muffled by the thick undergrowth. The dense canopy blocked most of the sunlight, creating an eerie twilight that made depth perception difficult. Vines as thick as Harry's arm draped between the branches like giant serpents, while smaller creepers created curtains that they had to constantly clear. 

The air was thick and still, lacking even the slight breeze they'd felt at the beach. Sound seemed to behave oddly here—their footsteps were muffled, yet distant cracking branches echoed with unnatural clarity.

Elizabeth had conjured floating orbs of light that bobbed beside them, but their illumination felt weak and insufficient, as if the darkness actively resisted being pushed back. More than once Harry caught movement in his peripheral vision that vanished when he turned to look.

Harry paused and checked out his surroundings. He couldn't shake the sensation of being watched. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, made him tense. 

"The humidity is dreadful," Daphne complained, wiping sweat from her brow. 

A branch suddenly snapped above them, the crack echoing like a gunshot through the quiet jungle. Daniel barely managed to dodge as it crashed down, missing his head by inches. The branch was as thick as his arm and would have caused serious injury.

"That was close," he said, examining the branch. "Odd. It looks perfectly healthy—no rot or damage. The break is clean, almost as if it was cut."

“Are you sure you cleared out all the Russian wizards?” Charlus asked, glancing up at the canopy.  

“I’m certain,” Elizabeth said, although she didn’t sound too confident.   

They pressed on, but Harry's unease grew. The jungle felt wrong somehow. The ambient magic that had been merely noticeable at the beach was stronger here, making his skin crawl like ants marching across his flesh. 

"Watch out!" Charlus shouted suddenly, yanking Elizabeth backwards. 

A section of ground where she'd been about to step collapsed with a sickening crunch, revealing a pit at least three metres deep. Wooden stakes lined the bottom, sharpened to a lethal point. Had she fallen in, it would likely have been fatal. 

“Are you okay?” Maya asked. 

Elizabeth nodded. "Thanks to Charlus’ quick reflexes.” 

“These accidents are becoming concerning," Marcus said, his voice tight with tension. "Someone deliberately set a trap to hurt us."

“Could it be a leftover trap the Russians had built?” Hermione asked.

Marcus frowned.  “Maybe.” 

They continued for the next few minutes in silence, scanning their surroundings cautiously. Everyone had their wands out now, almost expecting another incident.

Daphne stopped abruptly, pointing to a cluster of plants growing in a shadowy hollow. Their stems were crystalline, shifting between deep purple and dark blue every few seconds. 

"I've never seen anything like these before,” Daphne said. “May I take a few samples to study?”

"Sure. As long as you share your findings with us," Elizabeth said. 

As Daphne collected specimens, Harry scanned the surrounding trees. The upper branches swayed unnaturally, moving against the wind. He could have sworn he saw movement—a darker shadow among the leaves—but when he looked directly at the spot, there was nothing there.

They reached a clearing that bore obvious signs of battle. The ground was scarred with blast marks, and several trees had snapped at their base. The area had already been cleared but Harry could see some metal fragments scattered on the ground, as if a grenade had exploded.

"This is where the Russians made their final stand," Elizabeth explained. "They fought desperately to hold this position.”

A sudden gust of wind whipped through the clearing. It carried a scent of decay that hadn't been present before. Maya stumbled, nearly walking into a half-melted boulder. The rock's surface rippled with dark energy, like oil on water. Harry grabbed her arm, pulling her back just in time.

"That's the third near-miss," Hermione said. "Perhaps we should head back. These incidents show a pattern of escalation."

Before anyone could respond, Maya collapsed like a puppet with cut strings. She hit the ground hard, her body trembling slightly. A soft whimper escaped her lips.

"Maya!" Elizabeth rushed to her daughter's side, turning her over. Black marks were spreading across Maya's face like ink bleeding through parchment. The patterns seemed to writhe and shift, forming and reforming incomprehensible symbols.

Harry felt the hairs on his neck rise, his instincts screaming danger. Acting on impulse, he looked up. A figure stood on a thick branch nearly twenty metres above them. It looked humanoid but he couldn't make out any distinct features.

"There!" Harry pointed. "In the tree!"

Charlus' wand snapped up instantly, but the figure launched from its perch and disappeared through the trees. 

"We need to get her back to camp," Elizabeth said, her voice cracking with worry. She levitated Maya's unconscious form. The black marks had spread down to her jawline.

They moved quickly through the jungle, no longer caring about stealth or observation. Every shadow seemed to hold potential threats, and the sensation of being watched had intensified to almost unbearable levels. The jungle itself seemed to resist their passage, branches reaching for them like grasping fingers.

Back at the beach, they summoned the Healer that had come with the wider group.  

The Healer cast several diagnostic spells while they watched on anxiously. When Harry pointed out that Gabrielle’s group was still out there, Charlus and several other wizards went in search of them. 

"It's definitely a curse," the Healer announced. "But not one I've ever encountered before. I can tell you that the curse is... old. Incredibly old."

"Can you help her?" Elizabeth asked, gripping her daughter's hand tightly.

The Healer shook her head, frustration evident in her expression. "I'm sorry. Without knowing the specific curse, I could do more harm than good.”

"I know something that might work," Slither's voice said within his mind. "Another Parseltongue healing spell."

Harry listened intently as Slither taught him the incantation. Like the other healing spell he cast before, it was a long incantation that took him several minutes to memorise. He moved back several paces and drew his wand, though the others were too focused on Maya to notice. 

Under Slither's guidance, he practised the spell quietly. With Sliver’s guidance, he mastered the incantation and wand movement within a dozen attempts. The drain on his magic was immense. 

As he was about to step forward, his grandfather returned with Gabrielle’s group. He waited until they had been informed of the situation before stepping forward.  

"I can help Maya," Harry said. "I know a parseltongue healing spell that might work."

Only the Americans were surprised by his words.  The healer opened her mouth to protest but Elizabeth placed a hand on her shoulder. 

She locked eyes with his, desperation clear in her eyes. "Do it."

Harry knelt beside Maya. The black marks had crept down to her neck. Given the rate of progression, he estimated the curse would cover her entire body within hours. 

He cast the spell. White light burst from his wand and struck Maya's forehead. The group watched anxiously, but for several moments nothing happened. Harry was preparing to cast again when he noticed the black marks beginning to fade. Within a minute, the curse had vanished completely.

Harry sat back on his heels, feeling exhausted. Maya's eyes opened slowly, confusion evident on her now-clear face.

"What happened?" she asked weakly.

Elizabeth pulled her daughter into a tight embrace, tears of relief streaming down her face. The usually composed woman was shaking slightly.

James clapped Harry on the shoulder. "That was incredible, Harry. Bloody creepy, mind you, but incredible all the same."

The others gathered round to offer their congratulations, and Elizabeth drew Harry into a fierce embrace. The healer, a rather stern-looking witch with greying hair at her temples, regarded him with professional curiosity. 

"How did you recognise the curse, Mr Potter?" she asked.

"I didn't, actually," Harry replied, still feeling rather drained. "It's a general healing spell that works on quite a few curses, but it takes a lot of magic to perform."

Elizabeth, having finished fussing over Maya, joined the other adults to discuss their next move. Harry noticed they kept glancing towards the treeline. The wizards that had been patrolling the beach were now guarding the entrance to the forest.

Taking advantage of the moment, Harry retreated a few paces and reached out mentally to Slither. "That thing in the forest—did you recognise it?"

"Indeed," Slither replied. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, you've encountered a Leshy. A rather powerful forest spirit. Not one to be trifled with easily."

Harry listened intently as Slither explained the creature's nature. The Leshy was a complex being—sometimes appearing as an elderly man, other times taking the form of animals or even fungi. Most remarkably, it could alter its size at will, from as small as a mushroom to as tall as the forest canopy. Some tales painted them as family creatures with wives and children, whilst others depicted them as foul beings that cursed anyone who stumbled upon them. 

Harry's brows furrowed. If it was a Leshy that attacked, then the latter tale was a more apt description. 

“They're dead clever at misdirection,” Slither added. “They communicate through nature's sounds—bird calls, rustling leaves, that sort of thing. And they're rather fond of leading people astray in the woods. Quite nasty pieces of work when they want to be."

Slither was remarkably forthcoming. Usually, getting information from the mysterious voice was like trying to squeeze water from a stone. This sudden willingness to share knowledge was rather suspect. Either the situation was more dire than Harry had imagined, or Slither had its own agenda regarding the Leshy. 

Harry returned to the group, who were debating whether to return to Boston. He repeated the explanation Slither had given him. 

"The forest spirit won't venture onto the beach," Harry said. "We ought to be safe here."

"I've read about them," Gabrielle chimed in. "They're quite common in Slavic folklore. Frightfully powerful, from what I understand."

Charlus' expression darkened. "Did the Russians leave it behind deliberately?”

"It's possible," Elizabeth said. "But why leave such a creature? Seems a rather roundabout way to deal with us."

"Perhaps it's still searching for something," Daphne suggested. "Following orders from the Russians. A last-ditch attempt to take whatever they had been searching for."

"Can they even control such a being?" Gabrielle asked, sounding sceptical. 

Elizabeth exchanged a meaningful look with the other adults. Harry didn't need Legilimency to know they were thinking about Baba Yaga. A deity would certainly have the power to command such a creature.

"How can you be certain it's a Leshy?" Daniel asked. "Did you get a proper look at it?"

"Just a glimpse," Harry admitted.

When Daniel looked ready to pursue the matter further, Minerva stepped in. "Harry has certain... unique abilities. If he says it's a Leshy, you need to take his word for it."

“I’m already convinced,” Marcus said. “Harry has already demonstrated how capable he is.”

"I believe Harry as well," James added. "So, how do we deal with it? We can't very well leave it to roam about, especially if it's searching for something."

Slither spoke up again in Harry's mind, offering a simple solution. 

Harry relayed it to the others: "We need to separate it from the forest—that's where it draws its power. We lure it into a trap and kill it with fire. It’s a Leshy’s primary weakness."

Elizabeth nodded. “It’s not a bad plan. But we need to think of a way to lure it out of hiding.”  

The adults withdrew to strategise, leaving the younger members to discuss matters amongst themselves. Harry noticed Maya still looked rather peaky, though she insisted she was fine. 

Harry checked his magical reserves. They were still depleted from the repeated use of the healing spell. He rather hoped he wouldn't need to cast any more magic, as he wouldn’t be able to do much. 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=

An hour later, Elizabeth and her team prepared to head out with Charlus to deal with the Leshy. Harry noticed James and Marcus carrying what appeared to be miniature flamethrowers, though their surfaces bore the same modified Russian runes he'd seen before. He rather fancied getting his hands on one of them.

When Harry suggested accompanying them, Minerva grabbed his ear firmly and sat him down with the others. His girlfriends couldn't contain their amusement at his predicament, their giggles only making his ear burn more fiercely.

"Better watch yourselves," Harry said, rubbing his smarting ear once Minerva released him. "I'll sort you out later."

"What does that mean?" Maya asked innocently, though her eyes sparkled with mischief.

His girlfriends burst out laughing as Harry's face turned a brilliant shade of red. 

"Oh, I've got something to show you," Gabrielle said suddenly, reaching for her expanded suitcase. She had that look in her eyes that Harry had learned to be wary of —the one that usually preceded something either brilliant or terrifying.

She opened the trunk with a flourish. Before Harry could react, two Demiguises leapt out, their silvery fur flickering between visibility and invisibility. Caught off guard, he toppled backwards as the creatures swarmed him, their long fingers prodding at him curiously as they sniffed about his clothes.

"Are they female?" Daphne asked, smirking. "Harry might have found more girls for his harem."

"Not funny," Harry muttered as the others howled with laughter. 

One of the Demiguise had settled quite comfortably in his lap, whilst the other seemed fascinated by his hair, attempting to groom it into some semblance of order.

"They're mates," Gabrielle explained, watching the Demiguise with obvious delight. "Nora told me they're the only pair on the island. I got permission to take them with me. I'll need to find more females for the male, though—they typically have up to seven females in any one group."

"Well, that explains everything," Hermione said dryly, giving Harry a pointed look, which he ignored.

Several minutes later, their conversation was interrupted by sounds of commotion from the forest—shouts, followed by the distinctive whoosh of magical flame and what sounded rather like a tree being torn from its roots. They strained their ears, trying to make out what was happening, but the dense forest muffled most of the noise. After several tense minutes, silence fell over the island once more.

They waited another ten minutes before the team returned, looking rather pleased with themselves. The flamethrowers were smoking slightly, and Marcus was sporting a singed eyebrow, but everyone seemed unharmed. 

"We've dealt with the Leshy," Elizabeth announced. "Once we've had some lunch, we can get back to exploring the forest properly." 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=

Harry and the group spent most of the afternoon searching the island, with the Demiguise pair following him about like persistent shadows. Though they encountered plenty of fascinating flora and scenery, they found nothing the Americans hadn't already documented. By late afternoon, Harry's frustration had reached its peak.

Before returning to camp for the evening, he decided to investigate the area where they'd dispatched the Leshy. The creature's true form was rather grotesque—a wooden-human hybrid that looked like something from a horror film. Two wizards from the wider team were carefully dismantling the corpse, collecting samples for further study.

Harry began examining the area, though he wasn't quite sure what he was looking for. The Source's task weighed heavily on his mind—there had to be something they were missing. The island's secret remained stubbornly hidden, and time was running out.

His instincts flared to life just as he caught sight of the Demiguises’ trembling beside him. Before he could turn, screams split the air. He spun around to face a nightmarish sight—another Leshy, far larger than the first, had grabbed both wizards in its massive root-like arms

Harry's hand flew to his wand, but he wasn't quick enough. With horrible strength, the creature tore the men apart, showering the ground with blood.

Horror froze Harry for a precious second, but survival instinct kicked in as the Leshy's hollow eyes fixed on him. 

"Run!" he shouted at the Demiguise. 

Retrieving a Fireball spell card, he launched it skyward. The explosion would surely bring help—if he could survive long enough for it to arrive.

The Leshy attacked with frightening speed. Its arm shot forward like a spear, forcing Harry to dive sideways. He rolled to his feet, unleashing a barrage of cutting curses that barely scratched its bark-like hide. The creature retaliated by animating nearby vines, which whipped towards Harry like striking snakes.

Harry rolled to the side, grabbing his staff from the strap on his leg as he did so. He extended it to its full length and used it to bat away the attacking vines, spinning it in defensive patterns. When a particularly thick vine came too close, he channelled magic through the staff, and the resulting blast of kinetic force splintered the wooden appendage.

Drawing on his Velocier skill, Harry darted between the Leshy's attacks, retaliating with spell cards. Several explosive fireballs detonated against its wooden flesh. The creature shrugged off most damage, though fire seemed to cause it genuine pain.

Harry's speed kept him alive, but he was tiring quickly. The Leshy showed no signs of fatigue, its attacks becoming more precise as it learned Harry's movement patterns. A root burst from the ground, catching Harry's ankle. He struck it with his staff, channelling another blast of kinetic energy to shatter it, but not before another vine wrapped around the weapon, yanking it from his grip.

Then, incredibly, the Leshy's form began to shift. Its wooden mass contracted, transforming into a human shape. The man who emerged looked alien, a parody of what an actual human was supposed to be. He raised a gnarled hand, and Harry's world exploded with pain.

The curse felt like liquid fire in his veins. Before it could incapacitate him, Harry broke free, but the next spell was already coming. He turned and ran, recognising he was hopelessly outmatched. Curses powerful enough to shatter trees pursued him through the forest.

The ground ahead exploded, forcing Harry to skid to a stop. As debris rained down, he noticed something—the explosion had revealed a shaft in the ground, sloping downwards into darkness. Another curse screamed towards him, leaving him no time to think.

Harry jumped into the shaft just as the spell impacted behind him. He began sliding down the rocky tunnel, his body bouncing painfully against the walls. Sharp stones tore at his clothes and skin, but he couldn't slow his descent. Just when he thought the tunnel would never end, he shot out into the open air.

He crashed to the ground in total darkness, the impact driving every last bit of air from his lungs. For several moments, he lay there gasping like a landed fish, his chest burning as he struggled to draw breath. Somewhere above, the Leshy's rage echoed down the shaft, its inhuman bellows bouncing off the stone walls. 

He pushed himself to his feet with trembling arms, letting out a string of colourful curses as his battered body registered its numerous complaints. His ribs felt rather tender, and he was fairly certain he'd scraped off half the skin on his elbows during his impromptu descent.

A deep rumbling sound drew his attention back to the shaft. Dirt and rocks were cascading down, filling the tunnel at an alarming rate. Within seconds, the shaft had completely collapsed, sealing him off from the surface. The Leshy's furious roars became increasingly muffled before falling silent entirely.

Harry wasn't sure if he should feel relieved about being cut off from the forest spirit or concerned about being trapped underground. Either way, there was no going back the way he'd come. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his two-way mirror, hoping to contact his grandparents. His heart sank as silvery fragments cascaded from the frame —the mirror had shattered during his less-than-graceful descent down the shaft. He cursed his short-sightedness. He really ought to have kept a spare in his inventory, but he'd grown rather complacent about having the mirror always at hand.

"Lumos," Harry muttered. 

Light bloomed from his wand, pushing back the darkness. He stood in a roughly hewn tunnel that stretched ahead into blackness. With no other options available, he began walking forward.

The floor was uneven, forcing him to watch his footing carefully. After several minutes of walking, he noticed subtle changes in his surroundings. The natural rock formations gradually gave way to worked stone, with tool marks visible on the walls. The magical tingling he'd felt on the surface intensified, making his skin crawl uncomfortably.

The tunnel opened suddenly into an enormous cavern. Harry stepped forward cautiously, increasing the power of his Lumos charm. The wand light revealed weathered stone walls rising intothe darkness above. But what dominated the space made him stop in his tracks.

A massive circular gate stood on a raised stone platform, its surface covered in countless intricately carved runes. The structure was easily five metres in diameter, crafted from what appeared to be a single piece of dark stone.

Looking around the cavern, Harry spotted crude furniture scattered about—a few chairs, tables, and what might have once been a bed, all showing signs of extreme age. Whoever had lived here had done so long ago.

He approached an old desk positioned near the wall, its surface covered in a thick layer of dust. A leather-bound book lay atop it, remarkably well-preserved considering its apparent age. Harry opened it carefully, finding pages filled with text written with a messy scrawl. 

Most entries were difficult to decipher, but one caught his attention:

At last, progress! After ten years of labour, the gate nears completion. The runic arrays work precisely as theorised—they bend reality itself, creating a stable passage between our realm and that of the fae. Previous attempts resulted in catastrophic failure, but this time I have discovered the key: the rift beneath the island provides the necessary power to maintain the connection.

The gate requires precise calibration. Too much power causes the barrier between worlds to tear violently. Too little, and the passage collapses. The balance must be perfect. Tomorrow, I shall attempt the activation. If successful, I will have created what none before me have achieved—a permanent doorway to the fae realm.

I confess some trepidation. The knowledge waiting on the other side will revolutionise our understanding of magic itself but there are plenty of unknown risks.

Should anything happen to me, let it be known that I, Galahad, didn’t fail in my great work. The gate functions exactly as designed. Whether that proves a blessing or curse remains to be seen.

Harry's mind reeled. Both by the revelation that he had found a trace of the enigmatic master artisan, and the thing he had created. 

A permanent gate to the Fae realm, hidden beneath an island that had sparked an international magical conflict? This person had been attempting something unprecedented—a direct, stable connection between realms. 

Did the gate still work? He didn’t know how long it had been dormant, but it seemed to have been perfectly preserved in this underground cavern. Harry flipped through the journal but found no dates to place the time period.  

Had Baba Yaga been searching for the gate? The implications were frightening. The two realms, which had been separated for so long, would come into conflict. And it would be under this witch's control. 

What was he supposed to do next?

A scraping sound from above made Harry's head snap up. His wandlight didn't reach the ceiling, but something was moving up there in the darkness. He held his breath, straining his ears to catch any further noise.

The scraping overhead intensified. Something was descending—not dropping, but moving with an unnatural, liquid grace that defied natural movement. Harry's wand light flickered, struggling to illuminate the creature as it emerged from the darkness.

So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Harry is confronted with a dilemma that may impact his relationship with the American Artisan Guild. 

Thanks for reading.