Bonus Chapter - A Heroes Campaign Chapter 3

A HEROES CAMPAIGN

A/N Hey everyone! I finished this a bit ago and thought I might as well include this into the Christmas time releases.

Working hard on the next update from the side story. Making good progress on it too, which is nice.

I hope everyone has a great holiday season. Hope you are all well!

…

CHAPTER 3 – What Makes a Hero

“Your education in the land of Enroth begins,” Sarakin said, standing in front of a chalkboard, of all things. Harry wasn’t sure why he was surprised about there being a chalkboard in a medieval castle. Hogwarts had them, after all. But Hogwarts, despite the complete lack of modern technology in the castle itself, still existed in a world of advanced technology. Getting access to a chalkboard there wouldn’t be an issue in the slightest.

“I have told you about the different races and factions that exist in extremely brief detail,” the old man continued. “I shall cover more of that later. As for the geography of Enroth, I have maps all over the place. You can study them in your own time. They are extremely detailed.

“For now, your journey to becoming a Hero will start in learning about the training that you will undergo to develop yourself, and the metric in which you will be measured to determine your progress.”

Harry couldn’t help himself. He thrust his arm into the air, getting the feeling that Sarakin would definitely not tolerate him just shouting out his questions.

“I only understood maybe half of that,” Harry said, once he was given permission to speak. “How do we measure magic? And what do you mean about developing me? Shouldn’t I just go on missions to do some heroic deeds so that I will be a hero?”

The old wizard gave him an understanding smile. “I thank you for speaking up, young Harry,” Sarakin said. “I keep forgetting that as a foreigner to our lands, terms and titles that are commonplace to us wll make no sense to you.”

He moved over to a bookshelf behind his desk and withdrew two scrolls, placing them on the desk close to Harry. “Firstly, the term Hero is not a name that someone gets given for performing an act of valour. It is a title that can be given only to those who qualify for it.”

“And how does someone qualify for the title?” Harry asked.

Sarakin raised an eyebrow expectantly. Harry flinched and raised his hand, getting a nod from the old wizard.

“A Hero is chosen firstly because of their potential among their peers,” Sarakin explained. “For instance, a knight who excels above all will be more likely to be chosen for the role. But beyond that, there is in every Hero the natural ability that exists only in Heroes to have their abilities empower the troops under their command.”

He turned to look through the window to the training grounds below. “Many a powerful magic user, or peerless warrior has sought to be granted this title, but have walked away disappointed as they didn’t have that ability to have their own strengths empower the people under their command. They moved on and became powerful archmagis, or crusaders of historical significance, but never rose to the prominence that a Hero can achieve.”

He turned back to face Harry, and moved closer to the board again. “No one knows how this ability came to be, but it is required of anyone who seeks to become a Hero. Most people just believe that it is someone that was chosen by the gods. It makes people less willing to kill Heroes outright. It still happens, of course, but the vast majority of soldiers and servants on either side will seek a Hero’s surrender or capitulation instead of seeking to kill them. Of course, that is mostly the case of people who still hold fast to the old faiths, but the traditions hold fast. Even the Necromancers will offer terms and surrender instead of killing Heroes out of hand.”

Harry raised a hand again to ask a question, but was this time waved off.

“It will be easier to get through this if you hold your questions until I tell you that you can ask them,” Sarakin explained. “Now, a Hero will lead an army of whatever size. It could be thousands of troops under their command or a single peasant conscript. The size isn’t what is important to this part of the lecture. What matters is how a battle is conducted.”

He raised his staff to point at the board and what looked like two armies facing each other. Both of them had a horse standing behind the army.

“In a confrontation, the Hero will always start at the back of the army,” Sarakin continued. “This is for a few reasons. The first being that, while a Hero must be trained, he or she must also be the general of the army, because that is ultimately what a Hero is; a field commander. They must be able to see the battlefield and make the decisions on where their troops are to move, when to advance, and when to retreat. They will also cast magic spells at their own troops or the enemy if they have the mana to do so. The more powerful their magic, the more powerful their spells will be. Battles have been decided entirely on the magical power of the Heroes alone.

“As a Wizard, you have a natural advantage over non-magical Heroes, such as Barbarians and Knights. However, don’t believe for even a second that you will automatically win a battle against a Barbarian just because you likely have more magic than they do. For one thing, they will also be able to use magic to some extent. Not only that, they will have other attributes that will let them come out victorious. Or they may have magical artefacts that will lessen the affect of your magic. There are many different things that can affect the outcome of a battle. Do you understand?”

Harry nodded, though he was trying to take notes as quickly as he could. This stuff was at least interesting. Far more than potions with Snape, that was for sure. “What happens if the Hero is much stronger than the troops that they are fighting with?” he asked.

“The order of battle stays the same,” Sarakin said. “That said, there is nothing that says that the Hero can’t get involved in a fight alongside the troops. It is just that many don’t.”

“Why not?” Harry asked.

“A few reasons,” came the thoughtful reply. “Out of self-preservation because they will be at much greater risk on the battlefield, or out of tactics would be the first choices. After all, though their troops could be weaker than they are, the Hero can still direct the battle in such a way that it will benefit their side. This is something they won’t be able to do as effectively if they are on the battlefield, instead of directing it. It can affect the cohesion of the army, in larger forces. For this reason, most would prefer to guide their side from the rear. Even if they know that a battle is hopeless, they might decide to keep fighting for longer to slow down the enemy forces, or reduce the enemy’s numbers before they surrender.”

“Why would the enemy just accept a surrender?” Harry asked. After all, while Dumbledore might be the type to accept a surrender, he couldn’t see Voldemort just accepting surrenders.

“Because it makes sense,” the old Wizard said. “After all, if you want to bargain for one of your Heroes to be free, it will cost gold. Wars are expensive things to run. If you can drain your enemy of resources, they will be far less likely to be able to keep fighting you. They need gold to recruit troops, to build their castles, to grow food. War is not just about fighting, young Harry. It is about economics, alliances, agriculture and industry. Come, stand and look out the window.”

Harry blinked in surprise for a moment before following the instruction. He got up and walked over to the window.

“Can you see how far the outer walls go in that direction?” Sarakin asked, pointing to the east.

“Yes,” Harry replied.

“That is because much of the farmland needed to supply the castle has to be protected to ensure that no one manages to destroy the crops we need. If an enemy army was to get in and destroy our food production abilities, what would happen?”

He got it right away. “You would starve,” he said in realisation.

“Just so.” He gestured for Harry to return to his seat. “Now, from what you have told me, you know about fighting and training others to fight. But, at the same time, you don’t seem to have the same learning in regards to alliances and economical factors of warfare. For example, you only used a very small number of those you trained to fight to go with you in your previous battle. Why is that?”

“Because it wasn’t their fight,” Harry said immediately. “Voldemort was trying to convince me that Sirius had been captured and was being tortured. It was my job to get him.”

“Oh?” Sarakin asked, sounding curious. “Who made it your job?”

Harry shook his head. “No one,” he said. “It was just mine. The others shouldn’t have come. They wouldn’t have been hurt if they hadn’t come.”

The old man looked at him searchingly for a moment. “Tell me, young Harry,” the old man said slowly. “Are you so desperate to die?”

“What? No,” Harry said quickly.

“Are you perhaps, more powerful than the combined forces that this, Voldemort, person has at his command? Or have some sort of secret weapon that could take them out all at once?” the old Wizard asked again, now sounding a little incredulous.

“Of course not!” Harry growled impatiently. “Voldemort’s more powerful than me and knows magic I wouldn’t dare to know.”

“So, you planned to walk alone into an enemy ambush against an enemy that was both superior in numbers and in magical power, with no secret weapon to be able take them all out without a fight, and somehow get out of there without being seen or detected? And you tried to refuse any of your allies when they attempted to come with you?”

The old Wizard was starting to make Harry feel stupid. “Yes,” he growled. “It wasn’t their job to rescue Sirius. It was mine.”

“A job you appointed to yourself,” Sarakin pointed out. “On your own, without consultation with any of your leaders or allies.”

“I tried to tell Snape,” Harry said hotly. “He didn’t do anything!”

“Considering that there was no one on your side at this Ministry place when you got there, but there were some of your older allies that appeared later, that does not appear to be the case,” Sarakin explained casually, as though he was discussing the weather.

The calm manner that he had replied only made Harry feel angrier. “Well he didn’t say anything when I brought it up to him,” he grit out through clenched teeth.

“And why should he?” Sarakin asked, sounding curious again. “After all, he didn’t appoint you to rescue your godfather. He didn’t even know that you had appointed yourself to rescue your godfather. You did that yourself and didn’t tell anyone. Why should he have told you that he could contact other to help rescue your godfather?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Harry roared, jumping out of his seat. “Snape hated Sirius. I didn’t think he would do anything to save him so I made it my job to save him and I failed! Then I got here and failed again! I watched him die and get eaten because of that Warlock!”

His body froze as he was about to go on a rant and he was unable to continue. It was that same spell that the green genie had put on him when he first got picked up the other day. He raged in his mind but he wasn’t able to do anything except look angrily at the old Wizard.

The glare Harry levelled at him didn’t bother Sarakin in the slightest. The old man made a gesture and Harry was dragged back to his chair and forced to sit in it., looking straight at the older Wizard.

“As I told you before,” Sarakin said calmly, but with a hint of steel in his voice, “while I sympathise with you for the loss of your godfather, I will not tolerate childish tantrums because you feel like the world owes you more than it does. No one owes you anything. I don’t owe you anything. I told you the way the world of Enroth is. There is a war that is starting between my king and his usurper brother. It is a war that will encompass our entire continent and lead to the deaths of many people. I do not have the inclination to cater to the angst of a teenager who is either a complete idiot, who wants to die, or who is so arrogant that he thinks that he is the only person that is needed to win a war. At the moment, after our very brief conversation right now, I am having a hard time not believing that you are all three of those things.

“If that is the case, I will stop doing anything with you right now. I do not have the time nor the patience to waste on an idiot, nor do I have the willingness to train someone so full of their own self-importance that they will either alienate all of their allies as they try to do everything themselves, or they will die on their first battlefield as they try to do everything themselves, or because they want to die.

“The only other possible explanation that I can think of to justify your thought process is that you are so noble that you don’t want other people to take risks, because you think you can do something they can’t and they will only get hurt, which you correctly don’t want to happen. This is stupidly misguided.

“Ask yourself this, seeing as I will not suffer my own hearing by letting you go at this moment for you to shout nonsense: if you had died, would that have stopped anyone else being in danger? If they risked themselves on a battlefield and managed to get experience, even if they were wounded, would they have not learned and become better for the next battle? Are you so important to the overall survival of all your people, that everyone’s lives depend only on you? Or, to contrast all of this, would they still be targets if you failed? Would their lives still be at risk if you were dead? Would they have the courage to face their enemies alone if they didn’t have the experience they could have gotten by fighting in the first place? Are you so stupidly arrogant to think that no one else can do what you can do? Why do you insist on being the only person able to do things? Do you honestly think that the fate of the entire world is going to come down to you winning in a duel? Do you think that if you only get the leader, that everyone else on the other side will just give up and believe everything you say simply because you said it?

“I am going to have you taken to your room and you can think of the answers to those questions. You will remain there for the rest of the day. I will speak to you on the morrow and I expect to have answers to those questions. If I am not happy with the answers, then I will have to rethink my offer to teach you our ways and our magic and you can stay here in this castle until the conclusion of the war. Hopefully it will be won by us. Otherwise, you can try see if a roc will be willing to fly way across the entire continent through griffin and dragon territory to the Forbidden Lith alone so you can get home.”

The door behind Harry opened and he found himself being pulled out of the room, his feet hovering off the floor to make it easier for the servant dragging him. He might not have been able to speak, but Sarakin’s words had made his anger fade. Now he was worried that he might not be able to fight to get back home. He hated doing nothing.

At the same time, maybe he had forgotten the fact that Sarakin wasn’t Dumbledore. He was a powerful Wizard in a different world, the head of his own castle. This man was also a general and a scholar, leading on the battlefield, going by what he had said Heroes do. To his knowledge, Dumbledore never led on a battlefield. He was a powerful wizard that led a spy group and did very little fighting. And he always let his enemies walk away. Sarakin didn’t.

As he started thinking about what Sarakin said, his first impulse was to deny it all. The old man didn’t know him. Didn’t know what Harry had gone through. How could he judge him based on a conversation? He almost decided to just lie to the old Wizard, to tell him the things that he would want to hear so that Harry could get back to learning.

Then he started to think about the things Sarakin had said before. How everyone in the world had gone through bad things, many of them had been worse off than Harry had. Sarakin had to provide for and care for these people. He was their leader and their defender. He was their judge and their doctor. He had seen all of the things that these people had gone through.

It occurred to Harry then that Sarakin might actually know a little about Harry’s trials.

Once he was back in his room and the door shut behind the servant that dropped him there, he sat on his bed and finally started to think about the questions that Sarakin had ordered him to ask himself. Did he think he was that important? Or was it because he was the only that was willing to act? Was he an idiot that thought too highly of himself? Or did he really think that everyone else would be okay if he alone suffered?

Sitting alone in the dark, with nothing to do but consider his whole life, was giving Harry some very confronting questions on why he did things. Why did he jump into action without thinking of a plan? Without calling for allies?

Why did he think that he could rescue Sirius if Harry had been alone? Why did he always refuse to bring other people in to his fights, when no one else had made them his fights except himself? Why did he always appoint himself the person that needed to do the job?

All of these questions and also many other filled Harry’s mind. He was so preoccupied with them that he didn’t even notice when the lunch was dropped off. He didn’t notice as the sun was going down. And when he went to bed, the dinner he hadn’t noticed had been dropped off had long gone cold.

…

The next morning, Harry had gone through the questions from Master Sarakin.

Some of the questions were easy to answer. The ones about Voldemort not leaving everyone else alone if Harry was gone and questions of that nature. The rest, the ones about Harry himself, those took more reflection.

By the time that Sarakin came for him, Harry believed he had some of those answers.

“Well, young Harry,” Sarakin said, looking at him over his steepled fingers as Harry joined him in the old man’s solar. “I trust that you had a lot of time for reflection yesterday?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said with a respectful nod. He realised that sitting and waiting like a helpless person while other people fought a war around him wasn’t his way. That said, if he was going to learn how to fight and use magic that would let him win, get back home and then fight Voldemort, then he couldn’t be left behind now. That meant he needed to be as polite as possible.

“Good,” the old man said. “Now, tell me what your answers were from my questions yesterday.” It wasn’t a request.

Harry complied easily. The first thing he talked about was that Harry didn’t trust anyone to do anything for him because of his childhood at the Dursleys. He mentioned how the neighbours didn’t like him because the Dursleys spread rumours that he was a bad kid from worthless parents. After that came primary school. He had always complained to the teachers about Dudley when his cousin had hit him or stolen his things, but a word from the Dursleys and Harry’s complaint was ignored because Harry was just a trouble maker out for attention.

After that was Hogwarts, where Harry thought he might be able to fit in and things would be different. Instead, he was stared at because of something he didn’t remember unless the dementors were around. Then there was first year with the Philosopher’s Stone and how they had gone to the teachers and none of them believed him so he decided to do it himself, which led to another teacher trying to kill him and Voldemort’s possession of the teacher.

Then there was second year where Harry was suspected of being the Heir of Slytherin because of his ability to speak to snakes and how none of the teachers stood up for him and spoke up to defend him. Then there was Ginny being taken and how he and Ron went to one teacher, who tried to erase his memory and leave him for dead, but

Then there was third year and the whole Sirius situation and Snape trying to kill him at the end instead of listening, then convincing the Minister that Harry and his friends were confounded instead of listening to him, which almost led to Sirius soul being sucked out.

Then there was fourth year with the tournament and how nearly no one, even Ron, believed him when he said he hadn’t entered. How even the teachers, like Madam Sprout, turned against him. How Snape had done his best to make his potions classes hell. Then watching Cedric die and how Voldemort came back through the ritual that had forced Harry to give his blood to and the confrontation in the graveyard afterwards

Then was fifth year, with the entire wizarding community believing that Harry and Dumbledore were delusional. How no one believed him and the ones that did were afraid to speak up, even while people were dying. How life in school was under Umbridge and how everyone else was too afraid to do anything, even Dumbledore, until Hermione talked Harry into teaching the DA. About the dreams of Sirius being tortured in the Department of Mysteries and having no one to turn to for help, after McGonagall had told him to do nothing except keep his head down. How Umbridge would torture him during the detentions she gave him and how she had managed to bring down the competency of the whole school through her ‘no using magic’ policy.

Sarakin had stared hard at the scar on the back of Harry’s hand for a long moment, completely expressionless. Harry had no idea what was going on in the old man’s mind before he was waved on to continue.

Admitting he was wrong about trying to do everything alone was harder than he thought it would be, but he was sincere. After Sarakin had hammered into him how stupid it was to expect no one else to be involved in anything, he had reevaluated how he approached things. He should have done things differently, no matter how much the idea of relying on other people, or letting other people be at risk of harm really didn’t go well with what he thought was the best. He could logically see the difference, but he didn’t like it.

But Sarakin had raised a valid point; how were people going to get the confidence to stand up for themselves if they never did? To fight against their oppressors if they never did? As much as Harry hated it, they needed it more than he needed them to stay out of it.

After Harry finally wound down, he waited as Sarakin continued to observe him, his eyes staring deeply into him in a way that reminded him of Dumbledore or Snape on their worst days. Like he was staring deep into Harry’s soul and judging him.

“After hearing you,” Sarakin finally spoke up once Harry was finished speaking, “I can understand why you wouldn’t have much faith in those in authority in your old world acting when they should have. I can understand why you think you should have acted, instead of letting other people do it. But you have a tendency to follow the ideas of this girl, Hermione, without thinking for yourself. Regardless of anything else here, that must stop. No man or woman will survive if all they do is let someone or something else do their thinking for them.

“More than that, I can understand the reluctance to involve too many from outside your inner circle to assist you in finding this Sirius under the circumstances. Having too many people follow you when they believed he was a criminal would have raised issues, more than I believe you have fully thought through at this time. But your attempt to turn away even your most trusted friends was unwise tactically, practically, and conventionally. Your thinking on the nature of wars must change if you are to survive yours. You are, going by the description you have given this Dumbledore person, following a pacifist into a combat zone. A pacifist usually doesn’t have the heart necessary to end a war in such a manner that the next one isn’t already being planned. You will need to find teachers that can instruct you better on this.”

There was a heavy silence in the air as Harry heard the mild criticism from his story alone. Sarakin kept staring at Harry for a long moment. “What is the first spell you would cast in combat?” he asked suddenly.

Harry blinked, not having expected that. “Oh, uh, probably expelliarmus,” he said hesitantly. “Or maybe stupefy.”

“And what do those spells do?” the old Wizard followed up.

“The first is the disarming spell,” Harry explained. “It takes whatever weapon your enemy has in their hands and either makes them drop it or forces it out of their hands. If you put more power into it, it can make someone be pushed away from their weapon too. The other was the stunning spell. It makes someone lose consciousness until the counter spell is said. Or until the magic wears off and they wake up.”

“Did you use those spells in the fighting at your Ministry?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah,” he replied. “Mostly them, though some other, more destructive spells at non-people targets.”

The old Wizard shook his head. “And were the people that you were fighting using spells that harmless?”

Harry grimaced, remembering the purple spell that Dolohov had hit Hermione with. “No,” he admitted. “They were attacking to either kill or permanently damage us.”

“I see,” Sarakin muttered. “It seems that you either are incapable of trying to hurt people trying to kill you, or you are also a pacifist.”

“But I was trying to get out of there!” Harry objected, but made sure he didn’t sound angry doing it.

“Yes,” Sarakin agreed. “By using easily countered non-lethal spells against people trying to kill you.”

The old man sighed and leaned back in his chair as he peered deeply at Harry. “There is an old saying that came from a Hero centuries ago, but it is as relevant today as it was back then. ‘No dumb bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it, by making the other dumb bastard die for their country.’ From what you have said, this Dumbledore is doing his best to not have any of the other side die from his actions or that of his allies. From what you also said, Voldemort is happy to have his people kill everyone that opposes them. From a purely mathematical point of view, who wins that fight when far too many people are too afraid to fight against this Voldemort’s forces?”

Harry winced even harder this time. Being told that the main spells he used in combat wasn’t going to help win the war was a bit of a kick in the teeth. He would need to do better and use spells that put the other side out of the fight completely. He swallowed nervously at the thought of killing someone. Then he thought of Bellatrix’s cackle as Sirius fell through the Veil. He clenched his hands. Maybe he could do it easier than he thought.

A long silence settled over the room as Sarakin continued to look at Harry, as though searching for something in particular. Harry didn’t know what, and it made him nervous. The Wizard had Harry’s life in his hands while Harry was stuck in Enroth. Harry didn’t want that life to be nothing but sitting in a room in the castle. He wanted to go home.

“I will train you,” the old Wizard finally rumbled, to Harry’s great relief. “I believe that you are sincere. More than that, I believe that you are able to see beyond what your childish instincts are telling you and see the truth. That means you can learn. But if I believe, even for a moment, that you are going to revert to the overly emotional child that I saw yesterday, I will stop all lessons and forbid your future apprenticeship. That sort of tantrum and active non-listening is not acceptable in my apprentices. Is that understood?”

Harry could feel the intensity of the old man’s stare on him, making him swallow nervously before he nodded, accepting the conditions.

“You will also accept any instruction I give you,” Sarakin continued. “Even if you don’t like it or you find it boring. You will pay attention in your classes and give everything your best effort, whether it is studying or fighting. You will do your best to learn and apply the tactics I will teach you. You will learn to change your mindset. I cannot have you fighting in a war if you are too afraid or incapable of either killing people, or giving orders, knowing that your own people will be killed by following them. That is going to be essential. Is that understood.”

Harry clenched his hands at that. He hadn’t thought about that before, but he knew it was necessary. He just hoped that he wouldn’t shy away at the moment of truth. He pursed his lips to stop them twitching and nodded seriously.

“Finally,” the man said, sounding less stern and slightly softer, “you shall try and understand that I and the people in Enroth are not the same people that you had at home. Do not hold the failures of your leaders and instructors from your world against the people from this one. We are not the same and it is not fair to act otherwise. If you have a legitimate concern about something, you can bring it to me. I will include you in the evaluation of the concern to determine its merit before I decide on a course of action to take. Do you understand that?”

Harry considered that for a moment, before he nodded slowly. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” the weight of the Sarakin’s stare finally lessened, letting Harry breathe. “Then we shall begin again tomorrow on battle strategies. Then, afterwards, you shall begin trying to feel your magic.”

Now that was something Harry was excited for. Not being able to use his magic without a wand left Harry feeling vulnerable. And if he was going to fight in a war, a war where people would be killed, the last thing he wanted to feel was vulnerable.

After being dismissed, Harry headed out the door, feeling like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. He wasn’t being kicked out or confined to his rooms. He was still going to be trained. He still had to overcome some of the things that had happened to him, such as his trust of his leaders, but he would do his best. He would give Sarakin a chance to show him that things were going to be different here.

And Harry would fight his way home.