READ NOVEL ONLINE Chapter 5: chapter 5 - Meeting an idol
Arnie was an elf born in the Veirdent Castle; both his mother and father were house elves of this family and, in his own words, just despicable slaves.
Because they were too preoccupied serving their masters, his parents never showed him any affection. They didn't mind whether he suffered from hunger or froze from the cold. They said that a house elf must get used to hardships from a young age, so they only gave him just enough care to prevent him from dying.
As he grew up, he began working for the family members.
Though not physically harsh, he felt that their treatment of him was impolite.
He was regarded by them as just another slave.
He had always admired how humans treated each other, the way parents looked at their children with warmth and ensured their safety, how the eldest daughter liked to crack jokes from time to time, and how the rest would laugh spontaneously.
The youngest son was full of a desire to explore and always got himself into trouble. After a lengthy scolding, the mother would embrace him and tenderly ask him not to do it again.
The father had numerous stories and tales that never failed to pique his children's interest.
The little elf also liked to listen to these stories and wished his mother would hug him. In fact, he wished to become human.
After several years, the elf began to accompany the family on their travels abroad.
He was utterly amazed; he hadn't expected the outside world to be so vast, diverse, and beautiful.
He wanted to roam everywhere and taste every food, but he was restrained by his masters; he couldn't leave.
Twenty years passed, and Arnie noticed that he didn't resemble the rest of his race. He didn't want to refer to himself in the third person and appear backward. He wanted to speak fluently and sensibly as a human without stuttering. When he shared this idea with his parents, he was severely beaten until his bones were broken.
"A house elf is a creature lower than its masters, its only duty is to serve and obey."
"A house elf is nothing without its master!"
That's what his father told him.
From that day, he despised his family and his entire race.
But a few days later, something unexpected happened.
The family went to Paris to attend a wedding of an acquaintance in Paris and took his parents with them; he couldn't leave because of his broken bones.
He waited several days, but neither the family nor his parents returned.
After he healed, he went to Paris to investigate and discovered that the entire family had been killed during an attack by Lord Grindelwald!
The fate of his parents was unknown; had they died or been taken by the Ministry? No one cares about the fate of a miserable slave; there are many of them!
Even he didn't care!
He stood frozen in place for hours trying to grasp what was happening; the Veirdent family was dead and had no blood relatives!
This means he was... free?
How could this be? A free elf?
But he was indeed free; there was no one to give him orders anymore!
Arnie jumped in joy; now he could go wherever he wanted and do whatever he wanted!
And that's what happened.
He visited many places around the world, when he was hungry, he could steal food from a random human family.
But suddenly, he was overcome with a terrible sense of emptiness.
Travel no longer satisfied him, and eating plenty of food no longer filled him.
He didn't know what to do anymore; he was just full of energy and wanted to do something, but he didn't know what he could do! This feeling was terrible, like thousands of ants crawling on his body, but he couldn't move.
He had despised his parents, he had despised his race, but at that moment, he also despised himself!
He cursed his wretched self because he realized that his father's words were true and that a house elf is nothing without its master.
After accepting that truth, he returned to Paris and presented himself to a magical creature seller as an elf looking for a master. The seller was not surprised at all; it seems he receives such requests frequently.
After verifying his skills, the seller agreed to sell him.
He waited several weeks in a small cage until someone came and bought him.
The man introduced himself as Bernard Maurice, a chef who had recently opened a restaurant and needed an elf to look after it and clean.
In the early days, Arnie was happy; Master Maurice had many orders for him. Cleaning the floors, washing the dishes, laundering clothes...
Arnie was now content because he had something to do.
But the good days didn't last; the chef's work was not successful, and the number of customers was not enough to cover the costs; Bernard was burning through his savings to keep the restaurant running.
The chef became nervous and found no way to vent his anger and stress except on the elf.
The first time was spontaneous when he hit the elf with a chair.
But since then, it became intentional and increased when he figured that he enjoyed torturing the elf.
The sound of the whip's lashes and the cook's laughter as he flogged him were etched into the elf's memory just as they were etched onto his skin. The cook wasn't satisfied until he saw the elf drenched in his own blood; he didn't care if he died. After all, who cares about a wretched elf? He could just buy another.
One night, Arnie had had enough of the abuse. He went to the chef's bedroom where he found him asleep, took his wand, and threw it aside. Arnie glared at the chef with hatred and began to strike him with bolts of lightning.
House elves are magical creatures and, like wizards and witches, they too can use magic to attack, a fact not much cared about in the magical world.
The chef began to scream, ordering Arnie to stop, but he did not. Usually, an elf is bound by his master's orders and cannot disobey even if he wants to, because there is a magical contract that binds him to his master. However, the contract between him and the chef did not exist because the contract binding him to the Veirdent family was still in effect.
When the last member of the family dies, the contract is nullified, so Arnie had long realized that there must be a Veirdent heir somewhere in the world; he just hadn't shown himself yet or he didn't know about his origins.
The chef's commanding screams turned to pleas for mercy, but Arnie did not want the chef to die so easily. He found it ridiculous how this wizard became completely helpless after his wand was taken from him, but he wasn't foolish enough to think that all wizards were like that.
The next morning, Arnie left the restaurant leaving behind the man's corpse, and left France altogether, heading to London where he presented himself to another magical creature seller.
This time he didn't wait long to be sold because the Ministry of Magic had placed an order for twenty house elves, and from then on, Arnie worked at the Ministry of Magic.
However, the elves there competed to complete tasks, leaving him with little to do. He felt bored and empty again, so he started occupying himself by following random workers outside the ministry, he could leave for hours and would not be noticed by anyone each day. No one cared about him.
His best days at the Ministry were during the rise of the new Dark Lord, Voldemort. The ministry was always bustling, there was plenty of work, and there was no shortage of Death Eaters who attacked it.
He was there when the Dark Lord declared war with a devastating attack on the Ministry, causing the death of everyone who was unfortunate enough to be present at that time.
Not even the humble house-elves were spared from his Death Eaters' merciless onslaught.
Arnie didn't know why he felt his spirits lift like that, he almost got himself killed there too!
Was it because he was so terribly bored that any change was welcome?
Or was it because he hated wizards and elves so much that seeing them dead brought him joy?
Or perhaps it had something to do with being a downtrodden servant all his life, and witnessing someone do as they pleased, crushing everyone and actually getting away with it, was incredibly fascinating to him? Whatever the reason, this Lord Voldemort had piqued his interest so he started following the news.
Arnie became very happy, he finally felt part of something. He would read the newspapers daily to know the latest moves of this Lord. He felt anticipation and excitement, what would he do next, would he attack the Ministry again? Would he kill random people again? When would the next battle happen?
The destruction was everywhere, and the scenery of the battle was beautiful, especially when spells collided in the air.
Arnie didn't care much about the lives or deaths of humans, but he was very excited after something finally broke the monotony of his daily life after decades.
The Dark Lord has a very simple way of life. You know my name, but if you dare to say it you'll die!
And his followers are everywhere! One never knows what will happen, he might be sitting quietly sunbathing and BAM! Suddenly a group of madmen in white masks storm in and start killing everyone!
Arnie struggled to contain his laughter when he heard the wizards speaking but not daring to say Voldemort's name, always using words like
Arnie tried to imitate the expression several times, but the muscles of an elf's face could not do it, to his great disappointment.
Also, whenever they talk about him, they lower their voices and become terribly frightened. Arnie never thought he would see the haughty wizards scared; this refreshed him.
For the first time in a long time, life seemed shiny and worth living that's why he became one of the biggest fans and supporters of Voldemort.
One of Arnie's most cherished recollections was the night he ventured stealthily behind a Ministry Auror. Fate would have it that the wizard joined his comrades in a desperate clash against the Dark Lord's minions. And then, the unthinkable: Voldemort materialized, from the shadows, his presence chilling the air.
With a flick of his wand, a green bolt of death consumed the Aurors, their lives extinguished like candles in a tempest.
To the Dark Lord, it was a mere skirmish, a fleeting obstacle. Yet for Arnie, a young elf witnessing his idol's malevolent power, it was an indelible memory etched upon his soul.
It was the first time he saw the man who had terrified everyone, but it was also the last.
After ten years of war, he received devastating news; the Dark Lord was dead, killed by a one-year-old child!
What kind of jest was this? What a trivial joke the newspaper was writing for readers? Don't journalists these days have any respect for people's minds?!
That was his opinion and that of many others until Dumbledore appeared and announced that Voldemort was indeed killed by the child of the prophecy, Harry Potter, the boy who lived.
Arnie was very angry; he wanted to find that child and tear him to pieces, but finding him was impossible because Dumbledore hid him well. Every time he saw a Death Eater being led to court, it felt as if his heart was being crushed.
Everything was over, truly over!
Arnie returned to his monotonous life until one day he felt the magic he had placed on the castle alert him to someone's entry. Arnie used a vanishing cabinet he knew its location and left for Paris, then moved to the castle.
He froze at the sight of a familiar figure. Though he hadn't seen his face, as he always wore a mask like his followers, his distinctive aura and commanding presence were unmistakable.
"Is anyone here?"
The elf's entire being trembled.
It was his voice—it was him, no doubt, the Dark Lord!