The Sorcerer’s War

A Night of Unease

The night was thick with silence, a heavy weight pressing upon the war camp. The battle had ended, but no one felt victorious. Fires flickered across the field, casting long, uneasy shadows on the faces of those who had survived.

Harry sat near the dimming embers of a dying fire, his fingers tracing the edge of the blackened scroll he had taken from the necromancer. A faint pulse of dark energy emanated from it, like a heartbeat in the night. He could almost hear whispers—murmurs of something ancient and vile, speaking in a language he did not understand.

Across from him, Jon Snow tightened the straps of his armor, despite the late hour. His face was grim, his dark eyes scanning the distant hills.

"You should get some rest," Harry said, not looking up.

Jon shook his head. "Rest is a luxury we can't afford. Not tonight."

Nearby, Arya Stark stood half-hidden in the shadows, sharpening her dagger. "He's right. They're watching us."

Tyrion Lannister, seated on a wooden crate, swirled a goblet of wine in his hand. "Of course they are. We humiliated them today. Now they're deciding how to strike back."

Daenerys Targaryen approached, her long silver hair illuminated by the firelight. "Let them come," she said, her voice steady. "Next time, we'll be ready."

Harry sighed, glancing back at the scroll. "I'm not so sure."

The magic he had used earlier had drained him more than anything he had ever attempted before. That monster had been powerful—far beyond anything he had faced at Hogwarts, beyond even Voldemort. And now, the whispers of something darker still lingered in his mind.

This war wasn't over.

It was just beginning.

---

The Watchers in the Dark

Beyond the camp, hidden in the dense treeline, something moved.

A figure, draped in black robes, stood motionless, their violet eyes glowing faintly beneath the hood. Shadows curled around them, shifting like smoke.

A second figure approached, barely visible in the darkness.

"The beast is gone. The wizard is stronger than expected."

The first figure tilted their head, a slow smile forming on their lips. "Good. Then we proceed with the next phase."

A distant howl echoed through the night, a low, mournful sound that sent a shiver through the trees.

The darkness was not done with them yet.

---

Harry's Discovery

Harry sat inside a dimly lit tent, the blackened scroll unfurled before him on a wooden table. The symbols on the parchment seemed to shift as he stared at them, twisting and curling as if alive.

"This is different from any dark magic I've seen before," he muttered.

Tyrion, seated across from him, poured another goblet of wine. "How so?"

Harry exhaled, running a hand through his messy black hair. "It's ancient. Older than anything from my world. It's not just necromancy—it's something worse. Something that doesn't just bring the dead back to life, but warps them into something… unnatural."

Jon Snow stepped into the tent, his expression tense. "Then destroy it. We don't need more dark magic in this war."

Harry hesitated. "That's what worries me. If I destroy it without understanding it, we might lose the only way to stop whatever they're planning next."

Daenerys entered, Drogon's shadow passing over the tent as he roared in the distance. "And if reading it corrupts you?"

Harry looked up at her, determination in his eyes. "Then you stop me before it's too late."

Jon and Daenerys exchanged a glance. Neither of them liked the idea.

Finally, Tyrion broke the silence. "Well, if you do go mad with dark magic, at least try to take out our enemies before you do."

No one laughed.

---

The Enemy's Next Move

On the far side of the battlefield, deep within the enemy encampment, Vaelor Blackfyre stood before a massive stone altar, his hands raised over a swirling pool of shadows.

A voice emerged from the darkness, cold and ancient.

"You failed to take the wizard."

Vaelor clenched his jaw. "The beast was defeated. But the battle was not in vain. We now know what he is capable of."

The shadows rippled, shifting into the vague form of a hooded figure.

"You promised us victory, Blackfyre. The Shadowborn do not tolerate failure."

Vaelor turned his violet eyes toward the darkness, unfazed. "I did not fail. I was merely testing his strength. Now, I know what must be done."

A pause. Then, the voice in the shadows spoke again, its tone colder.

"And what do you propose?"

Vaelor smiled. "We use his greatest strength against him. We force him to make a choice."

The shadows stilled. Then, a low, satisfied chuckle echoed through the chamber.

"Very well. But if you fail again, your soul will be ours."

Vaelor's smile never wavered. "Then I won't fail."

The darkness deepened, swallowing him whole.

---

A New Plan

Back at the war camp, Harry, Jon, and Daenerys stood around the war table, studying the enemy's last movements.

"They retreated too easily," Jon muttered. "It doesn't make sense."

Harry agreed. "They're planning something. And I don't like it."

Arya stepped forward, pointing at a section of the map. "Their forces have split. Some have pulled back to the hills, but others… they're moving toward the eastern villages."

Daenerys narrowed her eyes. "They're targeting civilians."

Tyrion swore under his breath. "They want to draw us out. If we leave our position to protect the villages, we'll be vulnerable."

Jon exhaled sharply. "Then we have no choice. We have to divide our forces."

Harry clenched his fist. This was exactly what the enemy wanted. But could they afford to let innocent people suffer just to hold their position?

Daenerys looked at Harry. "What do you think?"

Harry met her gaze. "We protect the people. But we do it on our terms. We send scouts first—learn what they're planning. And if this is a trap, we turn it against them."

Jon nodded. "Agreed. I'll take a small force and head east at dawn."

Daenerys turned to Arya. "I want you scouting ahead. If this is a trap, we need to know before we walk into it."

Arya smirked. "I was already planning on it."

Tyrion sighed, pouring himself another drink. "And I'll stay here, making sure everything doesn't fall apart while you all go off playing heroes."

Harry took a deep breath, glancing at the scroll one last time before rolling it up.

The war wasn't over.

And something told him the worst was yet to come.