Chapter 8

/For a single week, Harry had laid in a private room, specially created for his use, as he healed from the mental injuries caused by the Dementors. During that week his Avian companion had keep him, telling him stories of the world around him, even a story about himself. A story of a prophecy that had shocked him to his very magical core. He couldn't believe that he, a small boy of thirteen with not much magical training, was expected to murder a crazed Dark wizard, all to save a world that had readily shoved him away. And what would the Wizarding World do without him, since he was the marked rival stated in the prophecy. At least that was his first thought. Maybe this training to be a powerful being would one day help him.

And that was how he had found himself, after a week of healing, outside a large circular stadium. "Who are you?"

Those words had raced through his mind. Fighting the fearful shiver rushing through his body, Harry carefully answered, "I'm Harry Potter." He never got the chance to tell the mysterious voice that he had been dropped off by an Avian or that she left him just as quickly as dropping him off.

"Forgive us, child. We had forgotten you were to arrive."

Harry listened closely to the mysterious voice, echoed quickly by others. "Yes, we did not realize our time had come for another chosen child."

"What?"

A soft feminine chuckle rang clearly through the thick white fog, settling before him, "You, my child, have arrived in Greece. Mount Olympus. We," several figures stepped forward to place faces with the voices as Harry stared, "are the few of the Gods and Goddesses of Greece."

Emerald eyes remained wide at the sight of the three lithe figures standing before him. The first female, who had a small spotted brown owl on her left bare shoulder and a gray wolf at her side, spoke first, though the animals gave him a hint since he did learn about the Gods in Muggle School. "I am Artemis, Goddess of Wildlife and the Hunt."

The next female was dressed slightly different. The two did wear identical light blue robes, though Goddess Artemis' left her shoulders bare. This new figure was holding a large stalk of corn and rye in her hands, "I am Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest. I am also said to be Goddess of the Seasons."

Harry knew the stories that this particular Goddess had lost her child to a Lord of the Underworld, though for only six months of the year. But the next Goddess made him realize that it might not be a good idea to be on her bad side. For she wore a mid-thigh length, pleated dress covered in a shiny metal and a cropped breastplate. She also held a wickedly gleaming sword in one hand, the tip resting against booted feet; he realized she was the only female wearing footwear. "I am Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and War."

"Um…" He wasn't too sure what to say to these particular Goddesses. If he remembered correctly, these were one of the few most dangerous females told in Greek history. Which made him more than willing to follow them when they bided him to do so./

And that introduction had been made almost five years ago. Since that first day Harry had been pushed to his mortal limits and then some. But he was mostly given over to the two Gods of war, Athena and her brother, Ares; both quite vicious in their training. He had been shoved into sparring matches, training with their honored warlords. There were even times Artemis had brought her favorites, a tribal band called Amazons, to train with Harry. When these Amazons had come calling, Harry had been faced with barely dressed, muscular women, women who hated anything male. Thankfully, because of Artemis, Harry had been accepted by the tribe and taught the Amazonian way of fighting, giving him a new appreciation to never anger a strong female.

Before his sparring matches and weapon training Harry had spent six months with Hephaestus, the God of Fire and Crafts. This God was the one called upon to make the most powerful weapons, weapons no mortal could hope to defeat. It was under this God's tutelage that Harry had undergone creating his own weapons, created to his own unique personality.

Hephaestus had stood to one side, allowing the young thirteen-year-old boy create his own weapons. Dark eyes watched, carefully observing the small slip of a mortal as the boy's creativity flowed free. Those same dark eyes had been shocked at the end result.

It took six months to learn how to create weapons, control the shaping, and to fuel the mind with images of what the pounding of metal should become. After six months Harry had been allowed to create his weapons. For almost a year, under the watchful gaze of the only God to be physically impaired, Harry emerged from his tutor's grasp with four beautifully made daggers.

Now, as he waited among the thick white fog outside Mount Olympus for his Avian, Harry glanced down at his weapons. Two of the daggers were carved in snake form, the metal thicker then usual. The thickness could do plenty of physical damage to one's body without having to aim for vital organs. The metal remained in bright silver colors. But the delicately carved handles, made to fit only his unique grasp, were stained two separate colors. One handle a dark emerald to match the silver, while the second had been made a soft charcoal black. To him, these two daggers represented the Slytherin inside of him, a match of dark fatal beauty, all in one package.

His last two daggers were matching Gryffindor. Overlaying the cold metal was a thin coating of hardened gold, giving his daggers a soft golden color, as well as become slim, streamlined, double-edged blades. The slimmer weight would allow accurate aiming and handling. And like the first set, the handles had been stained separate colors. One handle had become a deep crimson while the other had turned a dark blue.

Harry didn't realize how much of his dark and light sides were complimentary to each other until he saw the daggers. One set deadly and the other daring and they weren't the only things Hephaestus made him create. Strapped to his upper thighs and lower forearms were four soft chocolate-colored leather holsters for each dagger, giving easy access reach and release. He also had two soft hide lined, leather sheaths for two wickedly carved swords, both depicting the Gryffindor sword he had used in his second year at Hogwarts. Upon one sword Hephaestus easily carved the words, dedicating his student's weapons to a Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor, two wizards important to his student.

They were the only weapons he had created and trained with. He could draw either weapon with a flick of his wrists or twist of his arm. The withdrawing of each weapon were like watching a snake snatch its prey with fast reflexes. But despite the hard training and long hours of weapon making, Harry had not been prepare for his Avian to suddenly appear, telling him that within a week he would be leaving. In a week Harry would be heading to a new world for even more training, though he had been warned of this fact five years ago.

"Hello, Harry." Harry jumped, slightly startled, as he turned with two daggers in each hand, pointing them at an amused Avian.

Frowning at the woman he had dubbed Berry, because she had accidentally spilled berry juice that contained his healing potion when he accidentally surprised her. She disliked the name but allowed him his pleasure, even after explaining that Avians had no names; names were not needed since it was not part of who they were but she couldn't deny those pouting emerald eyes anything. "We are going to Rome. Much more difficult Gods and Goddesses, counterparts to those here at Mount Olympus."

Harry opened his mouth to ask how difficult when she touched his arm, making them vanish in a flash of light, almost like being jerked around with a hook yanking through someone's gut.