Summary continued: But what if memories materialize in the flesh? What happens then? Can reality and fantasy become one. Look in his eyes or her face and you tell me.
THE DELPHIN ROSE
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the OCs and the plot. All other references, quotes and songs have already been sucked dry of profits by their rightful owners. Sob. Sob. Sob. The chapter titles are song names and are occasionally quoted in the chapters.
Prologue – Somewhere in My Broken Heart
She picked up the blood red book. That was odd. She was quite familiar with the restricted section of the school library, and she had never seen this beautifully bound leather and gold book.
She sighed and looked around her. Thanks to Concealment and Repulsion Charms, no one saw her come into the library. There was a tiny alcove tucked away in a window seat that she used. No one else did, and no one ever saw her there. She curled up and leaned into the cozy cushions.
Her hands traced the Grecian symbols and knot work. An exquisite rose bloomed, opening and closing over a cracked heart with a knife through it.
She opened the golden latch and turned to the first page.
The history of the Assassin's Guild is only available to those of a broken heart.
Her eyes widened. How could the book have known that? Her parents had disowned her. Then she had fallen in love with a cruel man; it had been a ruse and her friends abandoned for it. She hurt all over, and she wanted the pain to end. All that kept her from the abyss was the futility of it. She wanted to go down fighting, protecting her people. If she were going to kill herself, it would be in battle. That's all she wanted.
As she thought this, the pages began to turn as if caught in a high wind. Then they settled, and she began to read.
In the Silver Age, there arose a warlock, one Altamarnus by name, cruel and evil. His vices were twisted and vicious, his heart as black as the eyes that bored into peoples souls. Using his knowledge of the dark arts, he was able to rip the consciousness out of peoples' bodies. It is said he taught the Dementors how to kiss. In his attacks, he killed the son of Achmenipenthes, the High Priest of Apollo.
The novices at the Oracle of Delphi had chosen this son to be their priest and lover. Their chief, Euriclea, loved him so deeply that her sorrow gave way to thoughts of vengeance and led her to her ultimate decision.
Her plot included the formation of a shield tattoo. Each priestess was tattooed with an entwined serpent. Euriclea took the ink and mixed it with protection potions and shield charms. She knew to make herself truly invincible her own blood would have to mix with the applied ink. She had the tattoo artist apply the rose tattoo that symbolized her love. With the tattoo applied, she propitiated the gods.
To gain the gifts of Ares, rage and anger, she went to her hated enemy and taunted him to drawing her blood with a vicious beating. For the gifts of Apollo, courage and strength, she gave pleasure to Achmenipenthes. Hermes' gifts of cunning and trickery were obtained when she swallowed the drug of Thanatos Micros, the symbol of the final journey, death. With this drug, her blood and the tattoo, she was invincible to all but the most quick of deaths.
Euriclea knew the drug lasted little time, and she must kill Altamarnus quickly. She allowed herself to be captured. She wore a heavy, ornate locket around her neck as she was brought through the crowd. Like many devotees of the gods, she was brought to Altamarnus for his pleasure.
The slaves prepared her and she waited, the small capsule of poison waiting in her mouth; waiting for him.
With the first possession of her body she waited. He forced a kiss upon her and she complied, fear in her eyes and rage in her heart. Her mouth opened. She knew he thought she was going to beg; but as he ravished her lips, she crushed the capsule and pushed the poison into his mouth.
He was so intent on the slave beneath him that he didn't feel the intrusion or notice the effects till he began to shake.
She watched in triumph , the fear gone, as he pulled away and began gasping. She knew he would kill her, but she didn't care. There was no antidote for that poison, no restorative.
The Sisterhood of Rose found them both dead: she of a snapped neck, he of the effects of the poison.
So began the Assassins' Guild. Many took the rose; few were given a task. In the days when Eros' leaden arrows flew pleasingly at the hearts of men, many maidens took the oaths of Delphi, and of them, half took the Delphin Rose. With each wearer it changed, but always was comprised of four colors. The black outline, then red, blue and green, the colors shading together to produce the indigo shade of the Rose. The intensity of the colors was affected completely by the extent of the broken heart.
She read the passage fascinated. Her eyes set with purpose. She sighed. This was cold magic, cruel magic. The inflicting of a curse on one's own flesh. Neither dark nor light, but cold as ice. Euriclea had killed for vengeance at the loss of her love, but the girl reading was not vengeful. There was no death to avenge. The pages flipped again. An engraving showed the walls of Troy and a lone priestess weeping led away by an arrogant king.
Kassandra of Troy, cursed by Apollo, wore the Rose. The angry god had wanted her love, and she refused to give it. In this sense she broke her own heart, for he would allow her to love no man. Her gift of prophecy, also disbelieved because of the god's anger, broke her heart even more.
She took the Rose on a trip to Delphi. It is said that the Rose shown brightest for her. The Apollon scrolls, discovered at Troy, say that she foresaw the downfall of Troy; the destruction of Ithaka; the blood bath of Athens, Krete and many others in Agamemnon's quest and lust for power.
She kept the dagger hidden on her person. Dragged about as she was, used by the king and ignored by all others, she managed to hide it. She tried to warn them of Klytemnestra's treachery, but was ignored. Just as Aegisthus was preparing to kill Agamemnon, Kassandra's dagger plunged deep into his liver and Klytemnestra slit her throat.
The girl shivered. Kassandra had protected thousands and her death meant many people were saved. But she still didn't see how she could used it. How could a witch be protected from spells. Both women had died by non magic means. Her mind was already forming a plan and she needed strong protection.
As if reading her mind the pages flipped again. This time a the ingraving was Gothic. A vile looking fortress with bodies twitching on six foot spikes. She recognised Vlad Dracul's castle.
The reign of Vlad the Impaler (a true vampyre) was blood thirsty and horrific. An evil, amazing warlock, he and his legion of undead hunted and killed many. Many wizards fought him and all failed.
In those days a powerful, brilliant witch was abandoned by all who knew her. Her intensely shy behavior was misinterpreted for arrogance and pride. Her fragile heart was broken by this and she took the Rose. She followed all the duties to aquire it; the blood, the lust, the suicide.
With nothing left to live for, Isobel of Budapest, last of the line of Rowena Ravenclaw's second daughter Sylvia, went to Dracul's castle with no aid. Or so she thought. She battled Dracul, each flinging hexes; his rebounding against the shield charm of the Rose, hers striking but doing little damage to the undead.
Dracul sent the Imperious and Cruciatus at her repeatedly. They had no effect. Fury made him reckless and unobservant. Isobel made her way to him, past his guards who believed their master could destroy her. Dracul didn't realize that his magical shield was weakening. In his fury and anger he cast the Killing Curse as she sent a phalanx of wooden stakes at his body. She dodged the curse and watched as two of the stakes punctured his heart. The poison drug took its effect as Dracul died, and his minions attacked her. She fell and died just as the repentant village charged up the hill casting Killing curses on the weakened vampyres.
She didn't finish the story; she had the information she needed. The Delphin Rose protected against all but the Killing Curse.
She read other stories; of Morgan Le Fey sent after a Saxon king, of Lady Emma Malfoy out to destroy the killer of her father and husband, of other women sent to protect against genocidal madmen.
But the last history in the book sent her to the geneology section. She looked at the engraving on the book. An engraving of a woman with sea green eyes and dark golden hair. She recognized the tenderness and love in the beauty of her eyes. She had seen that sympathy mirrored in her most loyal housemate's sea green eyes.
She went back to the book and looked at the colored engraving. The beautiful woman was gazing happily at her husband and children.
In the long history of the Assassin's guild and the Sisterhood of the Rose only one has ever repented her choice. There is no shame in this. Brenna of Ravenpeak, the last known descendant of the Lady of the Lake, was called upon by her beloved Muggle friends and he Muggle-born compatriots to protect them from the onslaught of Grindelwald. She did this for a few years. Then she received a letter stating that her fiance had been killed in action in a Muggle place called Pearl Harbor.
Her parents long dead and with feelings of futility, she took the Rose. Like Kassandra, her decision to stop the genocide caused her to hunt Grindelwald for a long time. As she was nearing the end of her quest, Albus Dumbledore arrived. He hadn't known of Brenna's involvement, and he beat her to the evil wizard. She had already taken the drug. She watched as Dumbledore fought and defeated Grindelwald. Some of Grindelwald's followers tried to interfere, and she held them off. Just as she was taken by the Thanatos Micros, or Petit Mort as it is called in France, she heard her fiance calling her name.
Her awakening while screamimg shocked every one. Her fiance convinced her to take the Restorative, and then he spent the next three years learning Legilmens Morpheus in an attempt to bring her memories back.
Her description of her awakening proved that the Legilmens Morpheus worked.
'I heard billions of voices begging to live. It was all the cells of my body trying to convince me to go on, but it was my beloved's voice that decided me.
She finished the story and smiled. Seeing her friend made her happy. Brenna of Ravenpeak had made the right choice and he was here because of it.
She looked through the book and found the recipe for the potions. The Guild had disbanded when the Oracle at Delphi perished during World War II. Since then, the recipes became a part of the book. A notation was made that said the Drug and the Restorative weren't named until the Muggle play Romeo & Juliet was written. Another note said that the Romeo Restorative should be worn to enhance the protective power of the Juliet Drug. It was a simple potion. The process was simple. It was the ingredients: rare and expensive.
Already she was thinking, plotting, planning. Collecting her school bag, she slipped to a table and sat. the library was closed, but her concealment charm kept anyone from seeing her or the light from her wand. She made notes long into the night.
She returned the next day after classes and went through the book again. She was looking for a location to get the tatto and discovered the only place was in the U.S. She also found an entry that discribed a sweet scent that eminated from the girl after she received the tattoo. It disappeared after the propitation of Apollo. She went to the Muggle studies area, found a map and began making plans to travel. She had to learn to make Portkeys. She had to update her Muggle passport (just in case). She also had to learn an extention charm so she could travel light.
She was ready to die, she realized in shock. Her parents abandoning her, her friends hating her and the man she loved not loving her, just pretending so he could get her in the sack. It all hurt so much, she just wanted the hurt to go away; but if she could take the Snake with her that would be worth it. She would have to practice dueling. She was good, but not that good. Not good enough to take him out.
She sat back. She was tired. She'd been tired a lot lately. Taking naps, trying hard to stay awake in class, not studying as much. She knew those were the symptoms of depression. And she was depressed. Nothing mattered. There were days, weekends mostly, when she didn't even bother getting out of bed. Except to eat. It was weird, but her appetite had actually improved. Well sort of. Her sweet tooth was starting to rival Dumbledore's.
She looked at the clock. Damn, it was after curfew again. She didn't want to go back to the tower and listen to the taunts of the pride. Instead she headed for the third floor. Fluffy wasn't there anymore so she transformed the room into a bedroom.
In the morning she snuck into Gryffindor Tower and moved her things out. Packing everything into her trunk she levitated it out of the tower and hid it in that room. She cast the strongest locking spell she knew and went to class.
She returned to the library and finished her lists. She wrote letters to potions suppliers and wrote out her will. (Of course that changed several times.) She made sure her homework was completed or notes were ready for her classes.
She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them. Shining in them was the light of terrible purpose. As she gathered her things she thought of her life and dispair, acceptance and awareness joined the purpose. She straightened her back and glided out of the library,moving like a queen, a cold smile on her face.
I would not have chose the road you have taken,
It has left us miles apart.
I think I can still find the will to keep going
Somewhere in my broken heart.
So fly. Go ahead and fly,
Till you find out who you are.
And I, I will keep my love unspoken
Somewhere in my broken heart.
Billy Dean