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HRA# CHAPTER 167
🕑 Added 2025-06-23 21:57:36 +0000 UTCLike arcane, fel, holy, and other powers, the elements have never belonged to any single individual.
Ever since Dumbledore permitted Harry to erect the first shaman altar at Hogwarts last year, Harry had been diligently offering sacrifices and communing with the elements. His efforts had gradually stirred signs of awakening in the elements within Hogwarts’ grounds.
It was as if a sleeping person had suddenly turned over in their slumber.
These efforts also earned Harry greater recognition and support from the elements, making him stronger in turn.
At this moment, the response from the winds in the Forbidden Forest told Harry one thing: somewhere, unbeknownst to others, the centaurs had also gained the elements’ approval.
Perhaps a profession like centaur shaman had already emerged.
This was good news, as it meant the elements had begun to heal themselves. The rituals and efforts of centaur shamans would undoubtedly contribute to the glorious cause of elemental restoration.
But it might not be entirely positive. If centaurs had developed elemental shamans distinct from traditional ones, their understanding of the shamanic path would likely stem from their own tribe, differing vastly from the tauren shamanic culture Harry had inherited. This could lead to significant differences in their approach to the elements and the spirits.
Pondering the potential implications of this change, Harry quickened his pace toward the centaurs’ new settlement.
If he wasn’t mistaken, the elements had likely informed the centaur tribe that he was seeking them. He wondered how the centaurs would react.
After some thought, Harry didn’t believe the centaurs would meet him with hostility. When he’d asked the local elements for the direction of their tribe earlier, he’d made it clear he harbored no ill intent.
It didn’t take long for Harry to follow the river to a valley, nestled beneath a cracked cliff. The streams winding through the Forbidden Forest converged into the river beyond the shallow banks here. This was the centaurs’ new home.
The terrain was flat and wide, ideal for centaur warriors to charge, while the overhanging cliff provided shelter from wind and rain. Its proximity to the forest allowed easy access to game and herbs.
The centaurs had already erected a new totem near the forest’s edge by the cliff’s crevice. Harry spotted two centaur warriors standing guard, gripping long spears.
Whoosh!
An arrow suddenly shot out, landing diagonally two steps in front of him—a warning from a centaur archer patrolling the cliff’s edge, who had noticed his presence.
“Halt!” one of the guards at the entrance shouted. “Who—by the stars! It’s that boy!”
The guard’s initial query turned into a cry of alarm, drawing a crowd of centaurs charging out from the crevice and down from the cliff. Within seconds, Harry was surrounded.
Being encircled by centaurs was, admittedly, an unsettling experience. The thunderous clatter of hooves grated on Harry’s nerves, sharp as a blade laced with killing intent. Instinctively, he reached for his warhammer, only to grasp air, remembering he no longer carried it. Instead, he gripped his wand tightly.
The centaurs had clearly recognized him—the boy who’d clashed with their tribe last year, the one responsible for forcing their relocation.
“I come in peace!” Harry raised his hands, signaling his intent. “I only wish to speak with your shaman about recent changes—you know what I mean.”
His words caused a stir among the centaurs surrounding him. They understood exactly what he was referring to. The changes in their tribe over the past few months had left many young centaurs confused, sparking countless arguments.
“You’re the harbinger of Mars! You brought chaos to our tribe!” one centaur bellowed, his words igniting roars of agreement from others.
“You and Hagrid struck me down—Rondo, Baug—so many of us were injured because of you!”
Boom!
As the shouts grew louder, Harry raised his wand and shot a burst of fireworks into the sky. The shrill explosion finally quieted the centaurs, if only barely.
“I didn’t start the conflict, did I?” Harry said loudly. “I only wanted to discuss prophecy magic with your shaman. It was your centaur—Bane—who charged at me, trying to intimidate me. So I fought back.”
The centaurs grew even more agitated, their voices rising in heated debate. Some admitted the truth of Harry’s words, acknowledging Bane’s temper, while others insisted that Harry and Hagrid had attacked the tribe, forcing them to relocate so far away. One even claimed the stars had foretold it—Mars’ light had bathed the tribe that night, only to dim afterward, a sign of resolution.
It was chaotic. Clearly, even within the tribe, opinions were divided. Some centaurs even sided with Harry, condemning Bane’s actions, saying he should never have threatened a “foal”—er, thanks, but Harry really didn’t appreciate being called a foal. It made his skin crawl.
“Move aside—all of you, move!”
A whistling arrow sliced through the air, silencing the arguing centaurs. They parted, hooves shifting, to make way for a centaur with striking platinum-blond hair and a noble bearing, who approached Harry.
Harry recognized him from last year. This was… Firenze, wasn’t it?
Unlike the hot-tempered, wizard-hating Bane, Firenze had been far friendlier back then. According to Hagrid, though, Firenze wasn’t particularly well-liked among the tribe.
“It’s been a while, Harry Potter… Star of Salvation,” Firenze said, his tone calm compared to the fervor of the others.
“Star of Salvation?” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you centaurs call me?”
“Why tell him, Firenze?” a centaur shouted, displeased. “That’s our prophecy!”
“It was,” Firenze replied evenly, turning toward the voice. “You know this, Kalo. The stars have shifted… too much has changed. Triton wishes to see him. Clear the way.”
The name Triton seemed to carry a peculiar authority. Even the most reluctant centaurs stepped back, returning to their posts.
Relieved to be free of the encirclement, Harry followed Firenze’s gesture and walked with him toward the heart of the centaur settlement.
“Care to tell me more about this ‘Star of Salvation’ business?” Harry asked, curious.
“It’s what we called you… once,” Firenze said softly as they walked. “Because of the Dark Lord’s actions, and the wizarding world…”
“Why ‘once’?” Harry pressed, ignoring the curious or wary glances from centaurs on either side. “Because of last year’s incident?”
“No,” Firenze shook his head. “The stars have changed, that’s all. The constellations are unfamiliar now, and the world’s place has shifted. No centaur knows the answers, nor can any interpret them clearly.”
As usual, a prophecy vague enough to be maddening.
But what put Harry at ease was what he saw as they approached the cliff’s crevice. The centaurs going about their tasks didn’t look at him with hatred—curiosity was far more common.
“You’re surprised,” Firenze said, his questioning tone sounding more like a statement.
“I am,” Harry admitted. “I thought most centaurs would be like Bane, especially after last year’s conflict. I expected more hostility. But honestly, most of you seem far more reasonable than I imagined.”
He recalled the centaurs’ debates while they’d surrounded him earlier.
“Whatever you’ve become since the Star of Salvation, you’re still just a foal, Harry Potter,” Firenze said quietly. “No decent centaur would attack a foal like you. And Bane… he’s Bane.”
“I get it. Just like humans aren’t all good,” Harry nodded, his gaze sweeping over Firenze. “Looks like you’ve made some new friends.”
Harry had noticed the change in Firenze. The elements around him were more vibrant, more attuned to him.
“Elemental spirits,” Firenze confirmed, understanding Harry’s meaning. “That’s what they call themselves. Triton welcomed them, and they welcomed Triton… and the centaurs.”
“So, Triton is…?” Harry asked.
“Our shaman, like you, Harry Potter,” Firenze said, glancing at him. “You’ve met him.”
Harry’s mind flashed to the elderly centaur performing entrail divinations by a blazing fire.
Amusingly, the name Triton came from ancient Greek mythology—the messenger of the sea, son of Poseidon and Amphitrite, a merman with a human torso and fish tail. Harry wondered what the merfolk of the Black Lake would think of that.
It didn’t take long for Firenze to lead Harry to the largest tent. Pushing aside the curtain, Harry saw the aged centaur shaman once more.
Unlike the tent Harry remembered, this one was markedly different. He could clearly see four distinct rituals—for fire, water, earth, and storm.
They were primitive, rough, lacking fixed forms. Harry noticed several discarded wooden totems on the ground, carved but devoid of any special power.
The elderly centaur shaman stood before a half-carved totem, deep in thought.
“…May I take a look?” Harry asked suddenly.
“Of course,” Triton replied in a hoarse voice, turning to face him. He raised his hands to his chest—one second, two, three—whoosh!
The old centaur held his breath, straining visibly. After several seconds, a faint flicker of flame appeared in his clasped hands, along with a swirling gust of storm, a floating orb of water, and earth that crumbled into his palms.
“My apologies, that’s all I can manage,” Triton said, wiping sweat from his brow as the elements dissipated. “If you don’t mind, Firenze could demonstrate again. He’s progressed further on this new path than I have.”
“No need,” Harry shook his head. “This is proof enough… Did they come to you?”
“At the festival,” Triton said slowly. “Our first celebration after moving here. The flames danced on their own and spoke to us.”
Harry nodded.
So, the elements had sought out this Forbidden Forest centaur tribe on their own—perhaps not just this tribe.
Ordinarily, becoming a shaman required a specific spirit-bonding potion. But if the elements approached willingly, manifesting in the physical world, that changed everything.
There was no reason to be upset. In fact, Harry was pleased the elements had found new balancers. He’d never viewed them as his exclusive power, something to hoard.
Though, admittedly, the elements choosing centaurs left him with… mixed feelings. Still, centaurs weren’t like Azeroth’s centaurs. They were fundamentally different.
For instance, Harry doubted Azeroth’s centaurs would reflect on their actions or admit their mistakes, as these centaurs had.
Seeing Harry fall silent, the centaur shaman resumed his work, carving the totem as wood chips fell. He occasionally stepped back to assess his progress, while Harry watched from the side.
After a long pause…
“…You’re doing it wrong. The wind element you’re envisioning is too heavy,” Harry couldn’t help but say after a few minutes. “Haven’t you visited the altar? You should know by now how to express the different elements.”
Triton turned, and Harry was certain he saw embarrassment on the old centaur’s face.
“Yes, I know you’ve disobeyed Dumbledore’s orders and returned near Hogwarts,” Harry continued. “But I can promise not to tell him—on one condition.”
“That our shamanic path falls under your control?” Triton interrupted, his voice raspy.
“Wrong,” Harry said firmly. “I don’t care how strong you become, but you must never distort the will or power of the elements.”
Harry was somewhat shocked by the centaur shaman’s self-taught methods.
In Azeroth, whether tauren or orc shamans from Draenor—or any other shamanic tradition—these had long histories, refined over generations into complete, mature systems.
But here, Harry had witnessed a native race’s first steps in studying elemental magic and building a related culture after initial contact. It was like watching the ancestors of tauren or orcs—tentative, cautious explorations.
It reminded him of a Hogwarts graduate, versed in advanced magic and potions, encountering wild wizards who knew only a spell or two and incomplete potion recipes.
Hard to watch.
Harry held no prejudice. In truth, he admired this journey from nothing to something and was eager to see the centaurs forge their own shamanic path.
He only worried that such unchecked exploration might lead them astray—like enslaving elemental forces.
After all, when encountering something new, people often experimented in all sorts of ways… some gentle, others harsh.
“I understand,” Triton said, nodding without anger. “The elements have taught us much… including the words you shared with the foals, the tenets of shamanic priesthood. Remarkable.”
“So, the elements guided you to the altar?” Harry raised an eyebrow.
“Exactly,” Firenze interjected. “You can’t imagine how shocking it was when the elements first appeared to us. Many centaurs were furious, thinking it was a wizard’s prank—a humiliation.”
“I bet it was more than just anger,” Harry said calmly.
“I can’t deny that,” Firenze shook his head. “I hope you understand, Harry. We’d just been forced to relocate to a new home… even if it was Bane’s fault.”
“It’s in the past, Firenze,” Triton said softly, turning to Harry. “The situation was chaotic, but my kin eventually calmed down. That night, we met the elements.”
“Fire and earth,” Harry nodded.
On his way in, he’d seen many primitive objects of worship dedicated to fire and earth elements.
T/N: If you find any typos or incorrect names, please leave a comment. Thanks, and enjoy reading!
