The Mage of Middle-Earth - CH - 5 (Patreon)

Sirius Black stood in the vast chamber, heart racing as the reality of his situation sank in. Before him loomed Smaug, the legendary dragon of the Lone Mountain, its eyes gleaming with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. The air crackled with tension as the dragon’s voice boomed through the hall, each word resonating like thunder.

“Who are you?” Smaug asked, his voice deep and resonant, echoing off the stone walls.

Sirius was momentarily taken aback by the dragon’s ability to speak. “You can speak? I never saw a dragon who could.”

Smaug raised an eyebrow, his expression a blend of amusement and irritation. “How many dragons have you seen before?”

Caught off guard, Sirius stammered, “I’ve seen some dragons before.”

“Ah, a liar as well as a thief,” Smaug retorted, a sly grin spreading across his scaly face.

“I am no thief!” Sirius shot back, feeling a surge of indignation at the accusation. “Of course you are a thief. You are here to take my gold,” Smaug replied, his tone mocking.

Sirius’s shock grew with each exchange. “Of course not! I was looking for some kind of life in this area because I was so impressed by the hall, as it can be seen from far away. I just came here to explore. I am not a thief.”

Smaug’s gaze narrowed, the amusement fading into something more menacing. “Of course you are a thief. And you are going to die as a thief.”

Before Sirius could react, the dragon opened its massive mouth, and a torrent of flame erupted forth, illuminating the dark chamber with a fierce glow. The heat surged toward Sirius, threatening to engulf him entirely.

In that split second, instincts honed from years of danger kicked in. Sirius raised his wand, summoning the strongest shield spell he could muster. “Protego Maxima!” he shouted, his voice steady despite the imminent threat.

The spell erupted in a radiant barrier that enveloped him like a protective bubble just as the flames reached him. The shield shimmered and crackled under the intense heat, absorbing the fiery onslaught. Sirius felt the energy of the shield vibrate with the force of the dragon’s breath, but it held firm, allowing him to remain unscathed.

Sirius Black found himself in the midst of a fierce battle, the air thick with smoke and the acrid scent of melting gold as Smaug unleashed another torrent of flame. He ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding the fiery blast, his heart pounding in his chest. The dragon’s relentless assault felt personal, each roar a reminder of the power it wielded and the danger Sirius now faced.

Thinking quickly, Sirius used his wand to levitate a pile of gold coins, thrusting them forward to intercept the flames. The coins melted and warped under the heat, creating a shimmering barrier of molten metal that blocked some of the fire. As the flames engulfed the gold, the intense heat radiated through the chamber, but Sirius pressed on, determined to survive.

The battle raged on, each exchange escalating in intensity. Sirius felt the call of the Black family magic resonate deep within him, a primal force that surged in response to the dragon's unprovoked attacks. It whispered dark promises of vengeance, a reminder of the strength buried in his bloodline. The seductive pull of power swirled around him, igniting a fierce determination to defend himself against this beast.

In a moment of clarity, anger coursing through him like wildfire, Sirius summoned the darker aspects of his lineage. He could feel the madness rising within him—a dangerous side effect of tapping into the raw power of the Black family magic. He gritted his teeth, knowing he had to maintain control while harnessing this energy.

“Conjunctivitis!” he shouted, his voice carrying a ferocity he had never felt before. The incantation surged from his wand with a force that felt almost alive, a brilliant flash of magic slicing through the air. The curse struck Smaug squarely in the eyes.

The dragon let out a deafening roar, a sound that shook the very foundations of the fortress. Pain erupted as the curse hit home, blinding the great beast. Smaug thrashed about, anger and confusion melding into a furious frenzy. The molten gold scattered around the chamber, glinting dangerously in the flickering torchlight.

Sirius stood firm, feeling a mix of triumph and dread. He knew he had crossed a line—this wasn’t just self-defense; it was a declaration of war against one of the most powerful creatures in existence. As Smaug reeled, Sirius realized he had momentarily gained the upper hand, but he also sensed that the dragon would not go down without a fight.

“Do you think that will stop me, human?” Smaug bellowed, fury lacing his voice, though it was now tinged with desperation. “You have only awakened the wrath of a beast scorned!”

The dragon swung its massive tail, sending debris and gold flying in all directions. Sirius dodged to the side, barely avoiding being crushed under the weight of the impact. The sound of stone and metal colliding echoed around him, a stark reminder of the chaos that had erupted in this once-grand hall.

Desperate to maintain his advantage, Sirius drew on the energy still coursing through him, focusing on his surroundings. The remnants of the melted gold glimmered invitingly, and he quickly conjured a spell to manipulate the molten metal into a jagged shape—creating a weapon from the very riches that had once drawn him into this perilous confrontation.

“Your arrogance blinds you, Dragon! You are not invincible!” Sirius shouted, summoning the makeshift weapon, ready to defend himself as the dragon regained its composure.

Smaug, now enraged and with dark smoke billowing from the empty sockets of his eyes, began to charge at Sirius, the ground trembling beneath his feet. The battle was far from over, and as the dragon barreled toward him, Sirius steeled himself for the next clash, knowing that victory would require more than just skill and luck; it would demand every ounce of strength and cunning he possessed.

With a fierce determination, Sirius Black concentrated on the dark magic he had learned from the Black family library, feeling the surge of energy course through him like a storm. He pointed his wand at the enraged dragon, and from deep within the earth, black chains erupted, slithering like serpents across the vast chamber. They wrapped around Smaug's massive body, binding his limbs and restraining his powerful wings. The chains glimmered with a dark sheen, pulsating as if they were alive, tightening with each surge of Sirius's will.

Smaug thrashed and roared in protest, but the chains held firm, crawling over the scales that had once been impervious to most magic. The dragon's mouth was bound tightly, preventing any flame from escaping, and its powerful legs were pinned to the ground. Sirius felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with fear; he was wielding an ancient and formidable spell that could subdue even a creature of Smaug's stature.

Pouring every ounce of his magical energy into the binding spell, Sirius could feel the strain beginning to take its toll. The intricacies of the spell weighed heavily on his mind, but he pushed through, focusing on the power of the land around him. This magical realm seemed to amplify his abilities, granting him the strength he needed to maintain the chains' grip on the dragon.

As the last of his strength surged through the chains, he felt a resounding crack echo through the hall. The sound reverberated off the stone walls, a final testament to the overwhelming power he had summoned. Smaug's body stilled, the fury fading from his eyes as the chains held him firmly in place. The massive dragon lay lifeless before Sirius, the once-feared beast now a shadow of its former self.

Breathing heavily, Sirius stepped back, feeling the adrenaline slowly ebbing away. The dark magic, so potent just moments ago, began to recede into the depths of his mind, leaving him feeling both exhilarated and exhausted. The chains that had bound the dragon shimmered before vanishing into the air, leaving only the silence of the vast hall in their wake.

Sirius stood amidst the glittering gold and the remains of a once-mighty dragon, the enormity of what he had done washing over him. He had faced the greatest of foes and emerged victorious, but at what cost? The experience had tapped into a darker part of his heritage, a side of him he had always been wary of.

Taking a deep breath, he focused on calming himself. The echoes of the battle faded, replaced by a profound silence that filled the hall, broken only by the distant sound of dripping water. He had entered this fortress seeking life, a connection to the world, and had instead found death and destruction.

As he surveyed the massive chamber, the glittering gold began to lose its allure. Instead, he felt a weight of responsibility settling upon his shoulders. This treasure belonged to the dwarves—wealth amassed over generations, now left to rot alongside their fallen kin.

Resolute, Sirius turned away from the dragon and the hoard of gold. He knew he couldn't stay here; he had to move on. The chains of the past, both literally and metaphorically, had bound him long enough. It was time to forge his own path in this unfamiliar land, to honor the memory of those who had come before, and perhaps, to find a new purpose.

Sirius stood in awe at the sheer opulence of the massive room, the remnants of the dragon’s reign glittering all around him. Gold coins lay in great heaps, jewels sparkled with an enchanting brilliance, and weapons of exquisite craftsmanship lined the walls, their blades gleaming as if eager for battle. Each piece whispered tales of valor and glory, but Sirius knew there was little time for admiration. With the dragon vanquished, the spoils of this fortress were now within his grasp, and he intended to make the most of it.

Determined, Sirius set to work. He summoned the tools he would need from the shadows of the hall—knives, vials, and an assortment of containers—everything required to harvest the dragon’s valuable parts. The thrill of adventure surged through him as he approached the immense body of Smaug, the dragon’s scales shimmering even in death, a testament to its power and might.

First, Sirius collected the dragon’s blood, careful to catch it in a vial. The dark, viscous liquid shimmered with an otherworldly light, potent with magic. He knew that dragon blood was highly sought after for potion-making and enchantments, its properties capable of enhancing magical abilities.

Next, he turned his attention to the dragon's hide. With a few swift incantations, Sirius deftly skinned the dragon, removing the tough, gleaming scales that could be used for armor or crafted into powerful artifacts. The process was both exhilarating and reverent; he could feel the magic thrumming beneath the surface of the hide as he worked, each piece resonating with ancient power.

As he meticulously harvested the dragon's parts, Sirius stumbled upon the creature’s heart, a massive organ pulsing with residual magic even in its stillness. He carefully extracted it, knowing that dragon hearts were rare and immensely valuable. He could almost feel its warmth as he placed it gently into a specially prepared container, treating it with the respect it deserved.

Once he had gathered the dragon’s blood, hide, and heart, Sirius glanced around the cavernous room for a means to store everything securely. To his delight, he discovered a sturdy trunk nestled against one of the stone walls. It appeared weathered yet strong, its surface adorned with intricate carvings of ancient dwarven runes.

Sirius waved his wand, casting an expanding charm on the trunk. To his astonishment, the interior stretched, becoming vast enough to resemble the very size of the room he was in. He could hardly believe his eyes—this trunk could hold everything he had just collected and more. With a grin spreading across his face, he carefully placed each harvested part into the trunk, organizing them for easy access later.

Realizing the potential of this newfound treasure trove, Sirius contemplated the gold and jewels that surrounded him. His instincts urged him to take advantage of the wealth within the hall, but he paused, considering the dwarves who had once called this place home. For now, he focused on the dragon’s remains, knowing that they would serve him well in the days to come.

As the last piece of dragon hide found its place within the trunk, Sirius felt a rumbling in his stomach. He had been traveling for days, and while he had feasted on small game, nothing could compare to the potential sustenance of dragon meat. He took a moment to examine the dragon’s body, assessing the best cuts to take.

With a few deft movements, he harvested a portion of the dragon’s flesh, ensuring to cut it in a way that would preserve its magical properties. The meat was a deep, rich color, glistening with an alluring sheen. He conjured a small fire within the hall, the flames crackling to life as he cooked the dragon meat, the aroma filling the air with a savory scent that made his mouth water.

As he sat by the fire, savoring his meal, Sirius felt a sense of accomplishment wash over him. The taste of the dragon meat was exquisite, imbued with a magical essence that invigorated him with each bite. He could feel the energy coursing through his veins, revitalizing him and sharpening his senses. This was not just a meal; it was a feast fit for a wizard of his lineage.

After finishing his meal, Sirius leaned back against the cool stone, allowing the warmth of the fire to envelop him. He reflected on his journey thus far—how far he had come and the challenges he had faced. This mountain, once a terrifying lair of a dragon, had become a sanctuary of opportunity. He had not only survived but thrived, tapping into powers he never knew he possessed.

Sirius took a moment to admire his work, the massive trunk now brimming with the remains of the dragon—its blood, meat, hide, and bones meticulously organized into separate compartments. Satisfied that he had harvested what he could from the beast, he turned his attention to the treasure room. The thought of all that gold, jewels, and weapons was too tempting to ignore, especially knowing the dangers of leaving it unprotected.

With a determined nod, he approached the heaps of gold. He mentally calculated a fair share—thirty-five percent seemed reasonable, especially considering the danger he had faced. This treasure, although not originally his, would be far better off in his hands than in the possession of a thief or marauding creature. After all, it was only due to his actions that the fortress was safe again.

With a flick of his wand, Sirius conjured a magical binding spell. The gold began to lift into the air, shining like stars as it flew towards his trunk. Each piece clinked and clattered, a melodic sound that echoed throughout the cavernous hall. Precious stones followed suit, sparkling brilliantly as they joined the gold, their colors dancing in the flickering light of the fire he had conjured. Weapons, ornate and deadly, also took flight, gliding smoothly into their designated compartments within the trunk.

The process was long and labor-intensive, but Sirius found joy in it. As the treasure flowed into his trunk, he took the opportunity to explore the fortress further. He stepped deeper into the dimly lit halls, curiosity guiding him as he navigated the labyrinth of stone corridors.

As he walked, Sirius marveled at the architecture around him. The walls were lined with intricate carvings that told the stories of dwarven heritage—battles won, kings crowned, and legends forged in the fires of their forges. Each mural seemed to breathe life into the stone, and he couldn’t help but feel a connection to the ancient culture that once thrived here.

He wandered into various chambers, some filled with more treasures, while others were long abandoned and dusty. In one room, he discovered a collection of finely crafted dwarven armor, its metal still gleaming despite the years of neglect. He ran his fingers over the intricate designs, feeling the magic that had been infused into the very fabric of the armor. A spark of inspiration ignited in his mind.

This armor could be useful in the battles that lay ahead, and he quickly added it to his growing inventory. He found weapons of all kinds—axes, swords, and crossbows—each one more beautifully crafted than the last. With each addition to his trunk, he felt a sense of purpose; he was not merely collecting wealth, but also gathering tools for the adventures that awaited him.

As he continued his exploration, Sirius came across a large door, intricately carved with symbols he recognized from his readings about dwarven culture. It was a heavy door, made of solid stone, and it seemed to pulse with a faint magical aura. Intrigued, he placed his hand against the cool surface and whispered an incantation. The door creaked open, revealing a vast workshop filled with tools, forges, and half-finished projects.

The sight took his breath away. It was as if he had stumbled into the heart of dwarven craftsmanship. The air was thick with the scent of metal and coal, and the flickering light from the forges cast dancing shadows across the walls. Here, he saw the potential to forge his own weapons and armor, to create items of power that would aid him in his quest.

Sirius wasted no time. He collected several tools, a few enchanting stones, and the remnants of a magical forge that appeared to be still in working order. He envisioned crafting not just for himself, but potentially for allies he might gather along the way. This place, with its treasures and history, would become a sanctuary of creation for him.

After exploring the workshop, he returned to the treasure room, where the gold had nearly filled the trunk to capacity. As he surveyed the pile of riches, he felt a surge of satisfaction wash over him. He had taken a fair share, and more importantly, he had secured a wealth of resources to aid him in the future.

With one last flick of his wand, he sealed the trunk, ensuring that its contents were safely stored. Feeling invigorated, Sirius made his way back to the entrance of the fortress, ready to face whatever challenges lay outside. He knew that he was no longer merely a fugitive; he was now a force to be reckoned with, armed with the knowledge, resources, and determination to carve his own path in the world.

As he stepped out of the fortress, the sunlight streaming through the trees illuminated his surroundings. He looked back at the ancient stronghold, knowing that it would remain a significant chapter in his journey—a place where he had faced his fears, forged his destiny, and discovered the untapped power within himself. The adventure had just begun, and Sirius Black was ready for whatever awaited him.