The Sorcerer’s War

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The Battle in the Shadows

The ruins of Summerhall pulsed with dark energy, the ancient stones whispering with echoes of the past. The sigils carved into the walls glowed with a deep crimson light, feeding power into the towering black crystal at the center of the ritual site. The cultists, clad in black robes, chanted in a guttural language that seemed to warp the air around them.

Harry, Arya, Brienne, and their small group had been ambushed before they could strike. The Nightborn Assassins—elite warriors draped in shadows—had surrounded them, their blades gleaming under the moonlight.

Harry's Protego shield had barely stopped the first attack. The moment he dropped it, another assassin lunged at him. Instinct kicked in.

"Expelliarmus!"

A blast of red light struck the assassin's sword, sending it flying into the air. But these warriors were not like ordinary foes. Instead of retreating, the assassin rolled forward, drawing a hidden dagger and slashing at Harry's side.

Pain flared through him as the blade sliced through his robes, drawing blood.

Brienne clashed swords with two assassins, her steel ringing against their enchanted weapons. Arya moved like a shadow, her dagger finding the weak points in their armor.

"We don't have time for this!" Arya shouted as she kicked an assassin off the ledge of the ruined wall.

Harry knew she was right. The ritual was continuing.

Through the chaos, Harry caught sight of the lead cultist, a tall figure in a blood-red mask, standing before the black crystal with arms raised. The sigils on the ground glowed even brighter, and the very air trembled with power.

Something was about to emerge.

They had to stop it.

---

The Power Within

Harry took a deep breath, channeling every ounce of magic inside him. The magic of Westeros was different from his world's, but he had learned to wield it.

With a flick of his wand, he unleashed a spell he had been perfecting.

"Incendio Maxima!"

A torrent of blue fire erupted from his wand, sweeping through the battlefield like a raging storm. The Nightborn Assassins barely had time to react before the flames engulfed them, their enchanted cloaks offering little protection.

Brienne and Arya shielded their eyes as the fire twisted and roared, forming into the shape of a serpent of flame, coiling toward the ritual site.

But the cult leader did not flinch.

Instead, he raised his hands, chanting louder. The black crystal pulsed violently, and suddenly—

The flames vanished.

The air turned deathly cold. A dark mist erupted from the crystal, twisting like a living entity. A monstrous shadow began to form—a creature not entirely in this world, its glowing red eyes locked onto Harry.

---

The Shadowborn Beast

The creature that emerged was unlike anything they had ever seen. It had the form of a great wolf, but its body was made of swirling shadows, half-substance, half-phantom. Its eyes burned with an eerie crimson light, and when it howled, the sound was like a chorus of screaming souls.

Harry felt something claw at his mind—a presence trying to break into his thoughts. He gritted his teeth, forcing it out.

The cult leader turned to face them, his mask gleaming in the light of the ritual. "You are too late, outsider," he hissed. "The Shadowborn has awakened. Your magic means nothing here."

"Let's test that theory," Harry growled, raising his wand.

The Shadowborn Beast lunged.

Harry dodged just in time, rolling across the stone floor as the beast's claws struck where he had been standing. Its touch blackened the stone, spreading a creeping darkness like a disease.

Arya moved fast, trying to strike the cult leader, but her dagger passed through him like smoke. "He's not real!" she yelled. "An illusion!"

Brienne swung her greatsword at the Shadowborn Beast, but her blade phased through it, as if it wasn't fully in this realm.

Harry realized the truth.

"It's bound to the crystal!" he shouted. "We have to destroy it!"

---

Breaking the Seal

Harry didn't hesitate. He sprinted toward the black crystal, dodging another swipe from the Shadowborn. The closer he got, the heavier the air became, like pushing through invisible chains.

The cult leader raised his hand, summoning dark tendrils of magic that lashed out at him. Harry barely managed to counter, shouting "Protego!" as the dark energy crashed against his shield.

But he couldn't hold it for long.

Arya, seeing the struggle, leaped onto a broken pillar, using it as a springboard to flip over the cult leader. In midair, she hurled a dragonglass dagger straight at the crystal.

CRACK!

The dagger embedded itself in the crystal, and a web of cracks spread across its surface.

The Shadowborn let out an unearthly screech, its form flickering.

"NOW!" Harry roared, raising his wand.

"Reducto!"

A shockwave of pure force blasted into the weakened crystal. The entire structure shattered, releasing a blinding pulse of light. The sigils on the ground flared violently before collapsing into nothing.

The Shadowborn let out one last, agonized howl before imploding, sucked back into the void. The cult leader screamed as his form disintegrated into ash.

Then—silence.

---

Aftermath

The ruins were eerily still. The red glow had faded, leaving behind nothing but broken stone and dust. The cult was gone.

Brienne exhaled, resting her sword on her shoulder. "That was… something."

Arya kicked over the remains of the shattered crystal. "I don't like that they almost finished the ritual."

Harry wiped the blood from his side, exhaustion settling in. "They weren't summoning the Shadowborn. That was just the first stage. Whatever they were trying to call… was much worse."

Arya's expression darkened. "Then we should assume they'll try again."

Brienne turned to the others. "We should regroup with Jon and Daenerys. If they've already engaged the enemy army, they need to know what happened here."

Harry nodded. "Agreed. We ride for the frontlines."

The battle at Summerhall was over.

But the war had only just begun.