A Mission of Our Own
"Where are we going, Aunt Mor?" asked Percy with genuine curiosity, as he and Harry followed Mor across a vast open field. The breeze gently stirred the tall grass, and in the distance, a small village could be seen. In the opposite direction loomed a dense, shadowy forest.
Mor had transported them there by apparition. Harry remained silent, still with his stomach unsettled from the dizziness, his steps slightly unsteady. Percy, on the other hand, thanks to his more trained body, had recovered quickly. Watching his brother walk so easily, Harry couldn't help but think with a touch of frustration that maybe he should start exercising too, so he wouldn't always be the weaker one.
"Since your mother is busy with an interesting mission, I thought it would be fun for us to have a mission of our own," said Mor, smiling at the children with a glint in her eyes that promised nothing simple.
The two boys exchanged a glance, then looked back at their aunt, and finally at the empty field around them. Other than grass and a few little animals darting about, there was nothing that resembled a mission. A couple of squirrels and rabbits even paused to stare at them intently for a moment, before moving again as if nothing had happened.
Then Mor regarded them calmly and clapped her hands twice.
The air shifted. As though an invisible fog had been expelled, the creatures revealed their true forms. The small frogs that had been hopping around became larger amphibians, with short horns and a wide mouth brimming with razor-sharp teeth. On their foreheads pulsed a glowing red pustule, flickering like a dangerous alarm.
The innocent rabbits began to mutate: long claws sprouted from their paws, and their bodies bristled with spikes. They were not rabbits at all, but twisted, hostile rodents.
From the tall grass emerged small humanoid figures wearing red caps, stained as if with dried blood. They were Red Caps, infamous for their brutality.
"Oh… Clabberts, Red Caps… and that other thing…" murmured Mor, tilting her head with interest. "Looks like some bored wizard has been experimenting with crossbreeds. Typical. None of them ever turn out friendly—not even with their own kind."
Harry and Percy stared in astonishment, their hearts pounding. The illusion of peace was shattered; the harmless animals from moments ago now glared at them like starving predators.
With a snap of her fingers, the sword that hung from Percy's neck floated into his hands, growing until it reached the perfect size for him to wield. In front of Harry, his magical tome appeared, opening with a soft glow.
"Well then? Do you want to try fighting them?" Mor asked with a mischievous smile, gauging the boys' reactions.
Harry and Percy were caught between shock and excitement. It was impossible to deny that something deep inside them—something rooted in their very blood—thrummed with a hunger for battle. That spark they had felt against Luther was burning once again. Mor knew it well. Demigods were born to fight, whether they admitted it or not.
It was clearer in Percy, with his boundless energy and restless hyperactivity. Harry, in contrast, was more cerebral, disciplined, and centered on magic. Yet both of them carried the same flame.
Mor drew a completely black wand, one she rarely used. With a smooth motion, she pointed it to the ground and traced a circle. The field shifted: grass folded back, the earth hardened, and a translucent barrier rose around them, sealing the space. Undoubtedly, it was meant to prevent other beasts from sensing Harry and Percy.
"Very well. Have fun," she declared serenely.
Excited smiles spread across the children's faces.
Moments later, Mor stood with her arms crossed, watching attentively. Percy was facing off against a Red Cap wielding a bone like a club. With quick reflexes, Percy blocked the strike with his sword, then used the momentum to kick the creature hard in the stomach, sending it rolling across the ground.
The Red Cap, however, displayed startling agility. It pushed off the earth with its hands, flipping back onto its feet, baring its teeth in a violent grin before charging at Percy once more.
Meanwhile, Harry stood behind his brother, tome open, muttering a spell under his breath. His concentration was absolute, his wand aimed at Percy. Then, suddenly, he snapped the book shut with a loud crack. The sound echoed through the air like a trigger.
Percy multiplied into four.
The Red Cap froze, confused, its gaze darting from one copy to another. The four Percys charged all at once.
The first attacked head-on. The Redcap blocked with its bone, only for the figure to vanish into smoke. The second struck from the side, but also dissolved into mist. The third raised his blade for a downward slash, while the fourth appeared behind, aiming to stab its back.
Bewildered, the Red Cap crouched low to dodge the one at its back, but that too was false. The true strike came from above: the third Percy, the real one, brought his sword down in a decisive blow, slicing from shoulder to waist.
"Graaaah!" roared the creature, before collapsing backward and dissolving into black dust. Only its red cap remained on the ground.
Of course, that wasn't the bloody end of a real Red Cap. Mor had altered the spell so the children wouldn't have to face the sight of mangled corpses.
Percy, who had kept a serious expression throughout the battle, raised both arms triumphantly with his sword in hand.
"We did it!" he exclaimed with joy.
Harry, breathing heavily but with excitement burning in his eyes, nodded with a wide smile.
Around them, several objects lay scattered across the field, like small trophies of their battle. Mor had allowed them to remain: remnants that could serve as lessons, as well as a kind of reward for their first victory.
"That was fun," said Harry, who at one point had felt the fight more like a thrilling game. With the bag Mor had given him, he began picking up the objects curiously. There were red caps, glowing pustules, and jagged fragments that looked venomous.
"The pustules can be used in potions. You should keep them for your mother—she's learning," Mor explained thoughtfully. "As for the rest… what if we simply give them away?"
"Give them away?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting such nasty things.
Mor didn't answer right away. Instead, she bent down to gather dry branches and pulled some items from her magic bag. With patience, she built a kind of improvised altar in the field, then lit a small bonfire in the center. The smoke spiraled upward, carrying with it a solemn air.
"Come," she said softly, beckoning them closer. The two boys obeyed, circling the fire with anticipation. Mor looked at them both, and in a near-ritual tone declared: "Oh, Hecate, Lady of Magic and the Crossroads, accept this offering."
She tossed some of the objects into the flames. The fire, once red and warm, suddenly turned a vivid green, casting a supernatural glow on their faces.
Percy and Harry eagerly repeated the words, imitating their aunt's gesture. One by one, they threw in the spare remnants they carried. The fire surged higher, the green flaring even brighter, as if responding to the children's fervor.
Suddenly, the flames roared and spat out two items at their feet: a large red wizard's hat that landed before Harry, and a small dagger adorned with a fiery gem that seemed to contain living flame. Its blade was black as obsidian.
The boys immediately bent down, captivated. Harry picked up the hat reverently and placed it on his head. The moment he did, a wave of mental clarity washed over him. It was as if a veil had been lifted. The entire world looked brighter, and he could see tiny blue particles floating all around him.
He removed the hat for a moment, and the particles vanished. When he put it back on, they reappeared. Raising his hand, he tried to touch them. At his mere will, some of them drifted toward his finger, surrounding it like stardust obeying his command. Yet he felt no physical sensation—only the energy flowing around him, like caressing the air charged with power.
Percy, meanwhile, lifted the dagger with admiration shining in his eyes. He studied it carefully, fascinated by the glowing gem at its center. The blade radiated real heat, as if it were alive and burning. He gripped the hilt tightly, feeling it become an extension of his own body.
"Awesome!" they exclaimed in unison, sharing the same excitement. What had begun as a simple hunt for scraps had turned into something much greater: a game, a ritual, and an opportunity to discover unique treasures.
Mor watched them with slight surprise, but soon smiled at their faces glowing with excitement. It was impossible not to be carried away by their enthusiasm.
"Do you want to continue?" she asked playfully, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes!" Harry answered instantly, with the impatience of someone who had just tasted a new world and wanted to dive fully into it.
Percy followed with a broad smile, gripping the dagger tightly.