Clouds encompassed nearly half the horizon, dense white plumes as tall as mountains. Harry didn't want to fly lower; even with his disillusionment charm, he feared that someone could make out a strange shimmer in the sky.
He hadn't put enough grind into it yet, since the Ancient Language and his sword lessons with Arya had distracted him.
A similar spell while using the ancient language would be too cost-intensive.
While magic spells allowed him more freedom in what he could do, they had the grave disadvantage of being more cost-intensive than wizarding spells, which were more static and straightforward.
Especially spells that had a continuous effect, like disillusionment or invisibility. Neither did he want to use his invisible cloak and risk losing it.
He knew there were more ways to use and power magic with the ancient language, but he only learned how to speak it, not use magic with it.
There were many applications that he still needed to master, from wards to using energy from his surroundings. But casual experimentation was too risky since any wrong spell could end in death.
For example, a ward that shields you from physical projectiles, cast in the ancient language, could kill you instantly if you accidentally land in an avalanche and never formulate the spell properly with a good image.
It would simply drain you of all energy while you did what you told it to.
Instead of a risky experiment, Harry chose to put the bubble-head charm on himself and open his map screen. With that map function, he could tell if he was still flying in the right direction, even without seeing through his eyes.
As long as these clouds didn't turn into storm clouds, his trusty Firebolt would survive this flight through the clouds.
Harry had no other choice; after all, it seemed like they were stretching until his goal, Vroengard. The island of the Dragon Riders, where their city was located, was Doru Araeba.
At least it's ruins since their fall through Galbatorix and his Fornsworn. It was one of the longest journeys he'd done on a broom ever. The distance between Ellesméra and Vroengard was about four to five times the length from one end of Skagos to the other.
While on land, he could take some breaks, but the last part was over the ocean. And the clouds didn't really make this journey easier.
At least his flight mastery was going up. This flight also gave him time to ponder about a ton of different things.
———
It had taken hours until he had finally broken through the clouds.
He had been lucky that no storm had broken out, or the situation would have become far more uncomfortable. By the time the sun had finally appeared above the horizon, Harry didn't have much energy to pay attention to his surroundings.
But he still noticed once the shape of something specific appeared on his map.
The edge of an island lifting his head, his eyes adjusted to the brightness.
Some miles to the north, a ring of mountains rose out of the clouds. The peaks were clad in snow and ice, and together they looked like an ancient, jagged crown resting atop the layers of mist. The fire mountains that surround the heart of Vroengard.
'Finally.' He toughened up as he regained fresh motivation. While his body didn't really get exhausted and could go on for a few days, concentrating on the map while keeping himself on his broom in such a dangerous situation was simply tiring on the mind.
Before him, a huge bowl-shaped valley revealed itself, encircled by the steep mountains that had poked through the clouds. Around these mountains, a dense forest of spruce, pine, and fir trees blanketed the sides, as well as some foothills below.
Inside the valley, he was able to make out a number of stone structures among the trees: tumbled, overgrown entrances to caves; the husks of burnt-out towers; grand halls with collapsed roofs; and a few smaller buildings that looked as if they might still be habitable.
A few dozen rivers flowed out of the mountains and wandered across the greens of the valley until they poured into a large, still lake right in the center. Around the lake were the remains of the Rider's City, Doru Araeba.
The buildings were immense, many larger than the Keeps in Hogwarts or Winterfell. Some could hold whole villages. Every door was like the mouth of a vast, unexplored cavern. Every window was as tall and wide as a castle gate, and every wall was a sheer cliff.
It must have been a splendid sight during the Era of the Dragon Riders. Now nothing more than these ruins remained.
He wondered if he should explore the city and plunder it for valuables. His guess was that there was no way that Galbatorix hadn't already picked the city clean.
There have been too many valuables for it to be left alone. And it wouldn't make a good impression if he began to rob the dead.
[ Warning! Unusually high concentration of radiation detected. Please take the necessary steps to protect yourself or leave the area. ]
'And there is that.' If he remembers right, one of the Dragon Riders turned his flesh into energy with a spell, causing something similar to a nuclear explosion. How crazy must that war have been; they even turned themselves into magical nukes.
A short look at his HP told him that it was slowly grinding down his life. He had about 2 hours remaining, and he didn't even land yet. The Bubble Head Charm was probably also protecting him from some of the damage by allowing him to breathe fresh air.
'They didn't even understand the concept of atoms and managed to create a nuke. So fascinating.' Harry thought while trying to come up with an efficient spell to shield himself. But he was most excited to learn more advanced methods to use their magic so he could experiment with it himself.
He knew a capable mage could draw energy from other lifeforms and even plants to power his spells. And even cause a nuclear explosion. Was it to power his spells with the power of the sun?
Or a controlled nuclear reaction? So much fun with a higher understanding of science. Hopefully, he will get his hands on some modern science books in the future to apply more advanced principles.
In his last life, he studied computer science, which had only a limited amount of physics and chemistry in it—more mathematics. Maybe he could apply principles from it to the ancient language and magic.
Harry cast a spell in the ancient language, formulating one that covered alpha particles, beta particles, neutrons, electromagnetic rays, and waves in an efficient manner so it wouldn't drain him of his energy too fast.
It only took a sixth of his current MP recovery rate to keep up the spell. And as soon as he saw that the radiation was no longer affecting his HP, he landed in the valley.
"Point me, Rock of Kuthian." Harry cast a spell with his wand. He wasn't familiar with the area, and he knew that a powerful spell had removed the memories of the existence of the rock from anyone who ever knew of it, including its contents.
The only reason he knew of it was because he obviously read it in a different life in a different world, and no matter how powerful the magic used in it was, it wasn't powerful enough to cross the boundaries between universes.
If it were, Harry wouldn't even think of fighting Galbatorix because he could easily use even more powerful magic.
The Rock of Kuthian stood upon the edge of a large clearing, wherein grew a tangled pool of roses, thistles, raspberries, and water hemlock.
Behind the stone prominence stood row upon row of drooping fir trees, which extended all the way back to the mountain that loomed high above.
He had no interest in exploring the island; he could return here at any time. Besides the mutated animals from the radiation, there wasn't much interest. And he wasn't even sure how much use these animals could be.
One thing was sure: he wouldn't eat them, but maybe they could become potion ingredients. Unfortunately, he had no understanding of the art to even experiment with them.
It was the same problem he had in Du Weldenvarden with all the new plant life that existed there through the high conceptions of magic.
Instead, he remained focused on his target; a lot depended on it.
Standing in front of the base of the rock, he spoke the words that he had spent quite a lot of time coming up with.
Words in the ancient language that described a person were words speaking of multiple lives, the wish to live to the fullest, and seeing as much as he could. But also a desire for power, not having to see the Void again, and immortality.
It also spoke of his flaws, his lust, his greed, his restlessness, and his desire for perfection.
It was his true name. He wasn't perfect; nobody was. He wasn't good, but neither was he evil. He was just him, and he had his own interests to fulfill.
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