Survivor DLP Irene Prompt

Prompt: "According to the updated myths, the Twelve Olympians now consist of Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Demeter, Aphrodite, Apollo, Artemis, Hephaestus, Hermes, Ares, Athena, and Harry Potter"

She remembers the first time she met Harry Potter.

On the banks of the beginning of River Styx, a stone stood on the ground. Near it was a small figure, barely four feet tall, standing near the edge of the water. A gush of wind blew, yet not a single hair on this creature moved. She stood, always the faithful servant, guarding her master. The flowers from the trees fell like shooting in the Underworld skies, too many to fathom.

The picturesque scene was interrupted by slight footsteps approaching the stone. A lone figure wearing a white suit walked closer. His eyes slid over the stone with elegance, with the corners of his mouth turned upwards. His green eyes pierced through the wind, and the cut of his brow was like a knife.

He was the new Master of Death.

As if noticing the glance from the small creature, the man’s lips turned into a disconcerting smirk at her, gone as soon as a star in the sky. The girl’s heart started beating faster, only for Harry Potter to turn and walk towards the stone with words clumsily craved into it.

In memoriam of Hades
Lord of the Underworld
Master of Death
One of the Olympian Twelve

Harry Potter proceeded to mutter words she could not make out. He turned away, like he was going to leave the way he came, only to turn back towards the girl, striding towards her with an aura of unbearable force and purpose. She bowed towards him acknowledging his superiority, as one would bow to the inevitable Death himself.

“Why is there only a memoriam stone instead of a grave?”

No answer.

“Who are you, child?”

Silence.

He lifted her up to his eye level, hands on her waist, no longer towering over her as he narrowed his eyes. The sensation of her body powerless in mid-air shook her out of her daze. She did not know whether she was thought to be presumptuous or overconfident. She was suddenly aware of how brusque she was, and opened her lips.

“Call me Ci.”

“Ci. Did you love Hades?”

A nod.

“Do you want revenge?”

Another nod.

“At all costs?”

“Yes.”

She was prepared for more grilling, but with one hand he stretched out his long forefinger to brush away the fallen flower on her shoulder. The petal seemed to slow a moment on his fingertip, and then flew away with a touch of gracefulness.

She could not take her eyes away from that, as servants behind him called in the distance for Lord Potter.

He smiled as he continued carrying her, walking towards the voices. A warm breath covered her right ear as he whispered to her the many culprits of Hades’ destruction.

Shock lit up in her eyes, then despair, and finally a pool of determination.

As she looked at his servants from afar, she gave a smile of pure anticipation, her long hair blowing in the wind.

The servants stared at the inhumanely pretty girl-child who did not seem more than six years old, comfortable in their new master’s arms. She surveyed the crowd with looks far beyond her age. Nobody noticed the glint in Harry Potter’s eyes.

There was no turning back for her.

********

The first to go was Ares.

 Harry had left her behind as she was not yet ready. It was first time in decades she did not see him for days. She inexplicably let out a sigh of relief upon his return, the trapped soul of the War God now within the Resurrection Stone, one of the key treasures behind Harry’s claim to power.

The outside world was in chaos scrambling to find a replacement in time for Ares. Zeus sent investigators to all the Olympians.

The investigator stood nervously in the hall awaiting orders from Lord Potter. The man on the throne was content to wait. A thin layer of mist permeated the hall, and the entrance seemed to be covered with layers of magical gauze, shimmering in and out of view. The hall was filled with a scent of jasmine as the sound of bells approached.

It was then that he saw the Shadow of Harry Potter, though he did not know it then. A young girl came amidst the mist. Her dress pure white against her dark flowing hair, she flung herself into Harry’s lap like a falling butterfly, making such a presumptuous action seem natural. The candles in the hall reflected off her smooth jade-like skin as her exquisite lips opened to request for him to continue their lesson from the day before.

The visage of her, like a young lotus bud fresh at dawn, ready to bloom, caused him to momentarily stutter out his words as Lord Potter motioned for him to commence.

She was vaguely aware of the long speech the stranger in the hall was making as Harry explained to her the power of Legilimency in the world in soft undertones, comfortably nestled away from any danger. Yet as the investigator continued to describe the mysterious circumstances of Ares’ disappearance, Harry felt her beginning to tremble in both fear and excitement.

She was still too young.  Harry stroked her hair as the hall began filling up with music, notes rising and flowing, singing of pleasant sights and beauty in nature. Her head began to sway along to the irresistible music until she finally fell asleep.

In a polite and disinterested voice, the investigator was ordered to get out. He would have protested to the Lord Potter, until he looked up into the icy green eyes that promised death to those that dirtied their sights with opposition.

A feeling of regret seemed to flash across Harry’s face as he looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms, something nobody else saw. His long fingers stretched out carefully as he took off the Resurrection Stone from his own fingers, putting it onto her right forefinger. His hands brushed against her cheeks as an afterthought, before he was gone from the hall.
*********************

Apollo was next.

This time she was privileged to be with Harry during the destruction. Side by side, they entered with black hooded robes such that nobody could tell them apart.

The two figures stood in Apollo’s arena, the Sun God with his bow of fire, and Harry with his Elder Wand. Apollo was wearing a bright gold tonic with golden lining as the air around him sparkled. His posture spoke of power and riches beyond measure.

Harry Potter, however, shrugged off his black robes to reveal plain white robes. He stood there expressionless, with his eyes brimming with resignation, as if he wished to be elsewhere. His robes were so clean that light seemed to reflect off them, making it hard to look straight at him. Because of that, nobody could see the tinge of sadness beneath his eyes, hidden behind his light.

Apollo smiled as he withdrew his arrow. It shone with a bright light as he disappeared from where he stood the next instant.

The air vibrated as the arrow made its way to where Harry was standing, piercing into his body.

She did not move.

Apollo gave a maniacal laugh until his pupils dilated suddenly. He stifled a scream. A whoosh signaled Harry’s attack. The hair on his back felt a blade brushing past. He turned and parried with his bow, pushing all his power into the block.

The arena shook as a loud crack resounded from the impact. Apollo realized it was only Harry’s illusion he struck. He flipped over and ran towards Harry with a knife.

Harry grabbed his conjured sword and stepped forward swinging it with all his might.

A white mist started forming, freezing the air in a straight line. An ice well three feet tall stretched straight towards Apollo.

Apollo swung his knife to break the world, ready to push his knife into Harry.

He collapsed onto the ground with a resounding thud. Admist the broken ice wall, a pure burst of magic had pierced his shield as Harry’s sword went straight into his heart.

Harry smirked as he walked over, pulling out his sword to leave Apollo to bleed to death. He stuck the sword into the ice well as it vanished, leaving the ground with nothing but traces of blood. Apollo’s blood.

Harry placed his wand back into his holster as he stepped away from the dying god. Standing there, he looked like a marble sculpture.

The god of prophecy was beyond help as he muttered his last words before his body was devoured by the resurrection stone. She stepped forward, barely close enough to hear his last prediction.

Harry brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead.

She froze, feeling his fingers warm against her cheeks. The feeling…

‘It’s time to go.’

She recovered in time for her to see him walk away, a white figure too pure to disturb. Her eyes flashed with emotions buried far too deep for herself to even notice.

‘Harry Potter, the final and lasting Master of Death.’

That line would haunt her for ages to come.

*******************************
Aphrodite was the goddess of love.

She stood in front of the woman who gave the meaning of beauty to the world, not saying a word. The woman in red stood in her garden filled with the prettiest flowers, stealing the entire spotlight. It was the one and only look in the world. Like the gentle moon, the shining stars, the cloud in the sky, the blooming flower. Any further descriptions seem to lack life. Her beauty just is, and everything around it seemed inferior, not even enough to complement her.

Ci shed her black hood.

A century has changed her young face into the epitome of gracefulness. The calm expression of her face was so comfortable to look upon that it seemed a crime to disturb the features in any way. Her black hair fell like waterfall, tied together with a single silver ribbon. Her white dress blew in the wind, like a swan in flight.

There was this unspeakable chillness exuding from her, yet she was unarmed.

However, Aphrodite eyes went through shock, suspicion, watchfulness, with a tinge of admiration… She was yet a child, fresh as morning dew, but waves of confidence cascaded out from her even as  she refused to bow down in shame of the goddess’ beauty.

They stood, fire and ice, at the garden famed for being the source of beauty itself.

Aphrodite turned and was in front of Ci, like a ghost, with her sabre unsheathed.

The fearsome blade shone with an aura of oppression. The girl had nowhere to run. All the vulnerable points on her body were covered by Aphrodite’s power.

A single blow and she would be dead.

It seemed that victory was clear. She would pay for her audacity for face Aphrodite without a weapon.

The clash of metals resounded through the garden, piercing to human ears.

Just as the saber made its way towards her forehead, the girl turned. Her left hand held the silver ribbon in her hair and snapped. A silvery long object flew from her hand, spun like a silver wave, only for the intricate whip to whip around the saber with precision, directing it back to its owner.

Aphrodite side-stepped the strike only to find the silver whip winding tight around her neck in the next instant. Ci held one end of the whip, her eyes filled with murderous desire.

The whip around Aphrodite’s neck tightened, almost snapping her neck cleanly off, as she mouth ‘Love…. Ruin…’

‘Who? Who would it ruin?’

‘You… you…’

Her body suddenly relaxed, unable to draw her last breath.

Ci withdrew her whip, yet her hands shook from the bloodlust she seemed unable to suppress. She looked up only to see a pure white phoenix revolving around her. She stretched out her hand slowly, certain that it would not hurt her. The magically conjured phoenix landed on her hand with a clear cry and dissolved into a bright light. On her palm was Aphrodite’s earring, now containing the goddess’ power and soul.

She closed her palms and held it tightly as she slowly turned around, looking into a pair of green eyes. The man in white stood silently in the falling petals, like he stepped out of a painting. The calming effect increased as he walked towards her with his glance fixed only on her eyes.

He stretched out his long, callous hand, as the snowflakes floating in the air flew towards the white bursts of magic from his fingertips. The transparent snow flower bloomed as fast as the human eye could catch. He ran his fingers through her hair to get rid of the petals as he used the ice flower to tie her hair up once more, securing it with the silver ribbon. The snow flower would last a week with his magic.

She lifted her face, filled with words she wanted to say, only to bite out a question.

“Why have you come?”

“Because I want to see you.”

She stared at him without a word.

“My little Ci, all grown up and killing her first Olympian… two centuries ago you were barely old enough to start learning magic…”

He took his hand into his and led her out unnoticed back into the portal of the Underworld.

In the distance, the sound of servants panicking was getting closer…

************************************************************************

Demeter, Hermes and Artemis came next, yet she was not to see him again. She could feel that Harry was busier after the death of Aphrodite. He was spending less time with her, as there was less for her to learn, always getting a faraway look in his eyes. She felt further from him than ever, but she too, began to plot her own things outside of Harry’s knowledge.

It was not until Athena did Harry feel the need to accompany her once more.

They stood in Athena’s domain, a long stretching hallway filled with whispers of knowledge as light reflected off the crystals, dazzling to the eyes.

Athena had refused to grant them an audience, the servant informed them.

“What a pity. I was hoping to spare bloodshed.”

The servant’s eyes widened as she stepped away from the voice of Harry Potter, lowering her head ever so slightly. She saw the red drop of blood stain her chest, which immediately spread like a rose in full bloom.

A deadly wound.

The silver whip went through her back like a sharp knife, completely destroying her heart. Blood poured out from her lips as she turned, only to collapse on the crystal floor.

Ci stood with her white coat, her eyes calm as the sea, looking at life slipping away in front of her eyes. Her left hand withdrew as she kept her whip. The soft thin material was still sharp and icy, without a single trace of death.

A figure began to appear in front of them.

The warrior goddess had her spear in hand ready, her aura making her impossible to look directly upon by mortal eyes. Her grey eyes were swirling with anger, storm brimming over. She was the epitome of wise, calculative, noble, powerful, and cruel.

“So the Master of Death is apparently some bounty hunter fulfilling Hades’ dying wish.

It was as if Ci saw the version of her in the future, with wisdom and experience. The thought of that gave her a pause, enough for Athena to launch her attack.

Her spear shot through the sky with a terrible cry, filled with murderous intent. The entire hall shook as it went straight towards Ci.

She swung her whip urgently, twisting and turning it into spectacular waves of silver, yet she could only block. She was on the defensive, being forced backwards constantly by the powerful spear. Her face was pale as she came to the edge of the hall, with a huge fall beneath her…

She had no chance of winning, she knew then.

But she was going to fight to her death.

Athena twisted her body like silk as she hammered away at Ci’s defenses.

Ci began to feel the strain of the battle. Her movements slowed ever so slightly, as the spear sliced through the air with a smell promising death, hitting Ci like a flood.

She could feel her bones cracking surrounded by Athena’s aura. She bit her lips and carried on waving the silver whip. She roared as she put in all her strength to jump into midair. Her whip struck like a cobra towards Athena’s vulnerable chest.

Amidst the flurry of attacks, Athena sneered.

Ci felt her hand weighed down as Athena grabbed her whip. The goddess pulled in a swift motion as Ci stumbled forward. But at that moment, she suddenly let go of her whip…

The force pulling at her vanished…

She seemed to be too late to control her motion as she began to fall backward. Athena frowned as she moved forward to pull her back, unwilling for her blood to stain her sacred ground beneath the hall.

Her heart sank as a sharp pain hit right where her heart was. Athena felt her whole body in shock as her lips open to see a drip of blood.

She looked at Ci with comprehension, without a single trace of shock. In the moment of life and death, the woman had put a dagger into the heart of her savior.

A beautiful act of surprise attack.

Her eyes clouded over with slight sorrow as she realized her own pride had been her downfall…

“Harry Potter, the former Lord of Underworld lives…”

And with that, she dropped onto the crystal floor like a fallen crane, her eyes bereft of light. Her blood glistened in the hall.

Ci turned to see Harry staring into the distance deep in thought, his black hair dancing in the wind. His face was pale, with eyelashes covering his green eyes. It was impossible to ask what he was thinking.

She stared across the room at him, just the two of them in the lonely hall.

The next instant she registered the feeling of a cloak being placed into her hands. The invisibility cloak laid on her arm, calling out to her, the prize of their agreement.

She choked on her own voice, suddenly unable to ask the question lingering in her mind.

“Would you have seen Athena kill me without trying to help? All as part of my trial?”

She would never know the answer to that…

*********************************************************************

One by one the gods fell, and she grew in strength. The whispers of the Shadow grew as each god was replaced with her puppets, the part of Harry Potter slowly being forgotten. There were growing rumors that the Shadow was the real master, for no one knew whether it was Harry Potter or the Shadow executing the Olympians. Those that knew could not tell.

She was not content, for they were only trapped in the form of souls, not truly destroyed, unlike Hades. Her former master had faded from existence, never to return again. The only true way for a god to die.

Former master. A phrase that seemed so long ago.

As the strength of the Underworld threatened to rule the other domains, who knew that the mind behind it was currently withering away in his room?

She made her way slowly to the bed of Harry Potter, Master of Death, so close to death himself. Even dying he was a figure that spoke of wisdom and power, and yet she felt a tinge of regret that she would never be a part of his youth.

She fingered the Elder Wand, long in her possession since Harry’s mysterious illness, now finally the mistress of the three hallows, soon to be ruler of the world. It was time.

The young girl stood by her master, in his waning moments, awaiting the death of the main culprit of Hades’ destruction.

Harry Potter, stripped of all his eleven accomplices by his own will, was no longer a threat. She had been pretending all along.

Her allegiance never lied with him.

Yet as she opened her mouth to confess, no words came. At the final moment where the ultimate revenge would be revealing her betrayal, she faltered at what she saw.

She saw Harry in his childhood, the young boy who was abused and deprived of parental love, yet still strong and full of life.

She saw Harry in his youth, with his friends, happier than she had ever seen him, now blooming with confidence and passion, something she had never seen.

She saw Harry in his adulthood, still resolute, now with experience and knowledge, he still fought for what he believed in. She saw his family, and how he was torn away from them.

She saw the man that walked over the world, obliged by the Hallows to fulfill his duties as Master of Death, slowly usurping the faith in Hades, the real God of the Underworld. The man that treated her as a daughter he never could have.

She saw him for the boy he was, the man he wanted to be, and finally, as the father he is to her.

He beckoned for her to come near him one last time…

“Who are you Ci?”

She leaned forward, afraid to answer, but as her lips opened, Harry covered them with his fingers. He landed a soft kiss on her temple.

“It doesn’t matter.”

With the final words, something flickered in his eyes before Harry Potter finally closed his eyes.

At that moment, she realized he knew.

 She was Cerberus, Hades’ scared animal, the puppy that was rescued and raised by Hades himself, the servant that Hades trusted with his life. In his final moments Hades used his remaining power to turn her into a human, entrusting her with his revenge.

She was also Ci, Harry Potter’s protégée, the girl that he took in without questions. Harry had spent three hundred years teaching her everything he knew.  The girl Harry rose like his own, that Harry gave up his life for to pave her way into the legend. He was the first to treat her as an equal, and the last.

She realized that hatred had clouded her eyes facing Aphrodite, causing her to neglect how Aphrodite’s eyes were looking at Harry. She had guarded against love all her life because of her warning, only to realize love did not ruin her. Not her.

She was the perfect disciple, but the worst daughter.

She understood why Athena said Hades was alive.

The perfect Hades does live.

He has been living in her heart all along, gnawing away at her conscience, slowly poisoning any love she could feel for anyone else. Every tender moment spent was attacked with images of Hades slowly fading, from the energetic lord he used to be, to a stick like figure, all because of Harry Potter.

She screamed.

The grown woman unexpectedly fell apart as she let out a despairing cry that tore through the sky. Hatred and regret consumed her as her world lost all colour, except the blackness of hatred, the never ending source of hatred.

She had killed Harry the same way he killed Hades. She had, as the Shadow, caused people to know only her instead of Harry, killing off faith for her master, forcing him to fade out forever. He would never come back.

She recalled Apollo’s prophecy. The idea of it finally made sense to her, the final tribute to a man who had given her everything.

Sitting in her throne of the underworld, Cerberus smiled at the rows of black robes kneeling before him. She knew that the other Olympians will not dare seek revenge now. Harry Potter had in his supposedly waning moments, destroyed a protégée at the peak of his powers. The legend of Harry Potter will live on as the Shadow of Harry Potter disappears once and for all.

Her lips curled into a feral smile as the first of the Olympians are released once more.

The sound of Harry’s voice coming from her throat echoed through the empty hall, sending a shiver to all those who heard it.

“Let them go.”

This time, with no one to stop her, she would do it the right way. They would be gone for good. She could afford to wait.

According to the updated myths, the Twelve Olympians now consist of Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Demeter, Aphrodite, Apollo, Artemis, Hephaestus, Hermes, Ares, Athena, and Harry Potter.