Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
Harry Potter
October 14th, 2017
Hell. The past week had been utter hell for Harry Potter as conflicts erupted all over the world. It was not uncommon for Harry to take four or five international Portkeys a day, so he could meet with authorities on both sides, to try to establish some sort of rapport. But the worst part was Muggle Russia.
Prime Minister Gigori was not a man who civilized leaders enjoyed talking to, let alone work with. He had risen to power under mysterious circumstances in 2014, and quickly consolidated Muggle Russia under his control through the use of military deployments and propaganda. His influence had been falling the past year as his efforts lacked a "Great Enemy" to rally his people against, the people had grown tired of raging against the West. But then the Statute of Secrecy was broken.
Overnight Gigori had rallied his troops, his supporters, and the people of Russia, bringing up age-old prejudices against witchcraft, and the terrible concept of "others" that plagued every society. These "witches" seduced their husbands, these "wizards" cursed their lands to be barren, and their children were abominations. Muggle Russia was united in purpose.
And they used that purpose to begin purging their own magicals.
Reports had begun to trickle in three days ago, of the Russian wizards falling silent. An investigative force from the War Camp in Siberia was sent out and returned half dead, killed by determined soldiers and vengeful muggles. General Chang wasted no time in conscripting the Auror Force, creating an impromptu army, and attacked back.
One on one, wizards will usually win, being able to attack from a distance. But a well-trained Muggle could easily kill a wizard, by attacking from even further away or closing in to break the wizards apart with their bare hands. But if their technology was thrown into the equation, it became a whole new battle.
Wards caused disturbances, invisible to the naked eye, but traceable through a blanket of sensors. It was an inefficient system, more often wrong than right, but the muggles began to take prisoners, interrogating them, and discovering more secured areas. The wizards were in danger.
General Chang organized and carried out a mass exodus of wizards, pulling all of the magicals out of danger, while creating defenses around the War Camp to protect it. But while he worked on the war front, High Chancellor Flamel ordered his Undersecretary Harry Potter to attempt a diplomatic cease-fire. The conversation had taken place on an American carrier in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, as a neutral location, and it had not gone well.
Gigori had plotted well, reaching out to various governments to find out their stances on the newly revealed wizards. Most had remained purposefully neutral, understanding that they could not act too fast lest they put themselves at a disadvantage. Unfortunately, the United States of America was never known for its patience.
President Howard Clive, a mediocre reality TV star, turned corrupt businessman, was not someone who should have ever been elected president of any country, let alone the USA. He had only been in office for a year, and he was already known globally as the most corrupt president in American history, and arguably the most corrupt leader in history. He was known for claiming Prime Minister Gigori and he were good friends.
"I think you witches should surrender to us," President Clive said. The man seemed incapable of speaking without waving his hands, looking like a fat conductor of an orchestra.
"I think you should acknowledge the human rights violation Prime Minister Gigori has perpetuated on lawful citizens," Harry countered. The three men were crammed in a small room, with two guards each at their back. Harry was not pleased how both men were sitting across from him, almost looking down on him as if he were beneath them.
"What violations? You're not human; you even admit it!" Prime Minister Gigori countered.
"We all bleed the same; we are just as human as you are," Harry tried to explain.
"Preposterous! You're unnatural!" Clive claimed. "You're nothing but freaks!"
Harry felt anger. Even though it had been years since he had talked to his Uncle Vernon, and even longer since he heard that word, he still hated the word freak. It brought back painful and uncomfortable memories of living under the stairs and being worked like a House-elf. He tried to let go of that anger.
"Sirs," Harry began to say, "if we could return to the fact that Prime Minister Gigori is killing just as many muggles as he is magicals, we-"
"What deaths?" Clive asked almost joyfully. "We're not aware of any human deaths."
Harry gritted his teeth. He pushed forward a folder of photos, reports, and witness interviews toward each man. Clive blatantly ignored it, while Gigori opened his with an almost mocking grin of amusement. "Those deaths."
"Fabrications!" Clive claimed.
"You can't trick us with your lies, trying to dirty my good name!" Gigori said. "I've had enough of this nonsense, you should surrender to us now, and we'll consider treating you humanely."
"Gentlemen, I think we all need to-" Harry tried to say but was once more cut off.
"Guards! Arrest these beasts! They're too dangerous," Clive ordered. Gigori was nodding beside him.
The Muggle soldiers drew their pistols, but the Aurors Harry brought with him acted faster. A few flashes of light later and all of the Muggles were frozen stiff. Banging immediately began on the door, alerting the wizards that the Muggles were trying to gain entry.
"Secure the Undersecretary," one of the Aurors ordered. She took aim at the door. "I'll cast the Fiendfyre."
Harry was alarmed as the other Auror clamped a hand on his shoulder. "What Fiendfyre?" he demanded as the Auror activated his Portkey. The two wizards were whisked away before Harry could react. They landed in GWM entrance, where more Aurors quickly surrounded them as they hastily confirmed their identity. The second Auror appeared a moment later, smelling faintly of brimstone.
"Fiendfyre cast successfully, sir," she told Harry Potter. "It should consume the Muggle vehicle within ten minutes. If you'll excuse us, we'll report the success of our mission to General Chang."
She didn't wait for Harry's dismissal, walking off with the other Auror from his protective detail. Harry stared after her, in shock and horror, before he shook himself and marched through the halls, intent on reaching Nicolas Flamel and demanding answers for what just occurred. Unfortunately, his report wouldn't garner the response he wished it did.
"So, you failed," Nicolas said. He leaned back in his chair, waving off the aides who were assisting him with his paperwork. The two men were quickly left alone in Flamel's office. "That's a shame."
"I failed?" Harry asked, offended. "I wasn't even given a chance to calm things down! And on whose authority did that Auror cast Fiendfyre? Whoever it was, needs to be arrested."
"It was me."
Harry stared at his mentor in shock. "Nicolas, how could you? There were innocent men on that ship!"
Nicolas slammed his hand onto his desk, silencing Harry wandlessly. "Grow up, Potter! This is war; it was a war the moment they started killing wizards! The Aurors were to get you out and strike a blow against the two countries if it looked like you weren't able to achieve peace through diplomatic means. From what you've told me, you failed!"
Harry drew his wand, breaking the charm, preventing him from speaking silently. "I was in the room for less than five minutes before I was removed, and your Auror lit the whole thing on fire! Diplomacy can't work if it isn't given a chance!"
"And from your own report, it wasn't working. You failed Potter. Accept that, and accept the fact that in order to protect ourselves, we need to fight back! The Muggles need to be made aware that we aren't going to take their attacks sitting down, that we will defend ourselves!" Flamel shouted. A knock on his door interrupted any retort Harry had. "What?"
An aide poked his head in. "Sirs, Mikael's been sighted."
Nicolas sighed. "Where?" he asked, rubbing a hand on his face.
"England, sir." Harry and Nicolas froze. "He started twenty kilometers east of London and has been burning his way north. Early reports indicate he's targeting magical homes exclusively."
"Ginny," Harry said with horror. He pushed past the aide and took off at a run to the Portkey Distribution Area as Nicolas began to issue orders. He had to find his family.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
Daphne Greengrass
October 14th, 2017
Daphne entertained herself over the next week as Draco focused on the Riddle Coin. She loudly ordered the House-elves to bring her the most expensive bottles of wine from the manor's cellar, drinking a glass before declaring it only worthy for peasants. She'd then order the House-elves to dispose of the bottle, pouring it down the drain if they must, and to fetch her another.
She'd also go around the manor, pushing vases and statues over to break them, destroying dozens of pieces worth far more than most people made in a year. She ordered the House-elves to leave the pieces in place, not to clean up the mess, and watched as Draco had to walk through his home as she slowly dismantled it around him.
On the third day, she ordered the House-elves only to feed him gruel, just enough to stop his belly from rumbling. The look Draco gave Daphne almost made her cackle in glee, but she contained herself, merely giving him a pleased look. This was also the last day that he spoke to her, or anyone else, ignoring Floo calls and letters.
Not that it stopped Daphne's efforts. The fourth and fifth days were full of her following him around, talking loudly of all the things he had been given in his life, and how he deserved none of them. She was careful to stay away from mentioning her sister or nephew, feeling that touching on that subject be would be too much for Draco at this time, but no other subject was safe as she tore down any accomplishment he felt he had earned in his life.
The sixth day was noteworthy, if only for the fact that Daphne woke up to a message waiting for her. Her mirror glowed softly with blue light, and she activated it, revealing the message it contained. Her eyes darted back and forth as she absorbed the information it provided, and she put it aside once she was done. It seemed there was to be an attack tomorrow in England, and if Draco hadn't solved the coin by then, he was to be attacked as well.
Daphne rose and got dressed, joining Draco a short time later at the breakfast table. It was time to break him, to see if he could genuinely overcome his own ego.
"Nobody respects you, you know," Daphne said, biting into a piece of toast covered in freshly made jam. The House-elves still made her delicious food, and she relished telling Draco all about the meals. Draco ignored her as he spooned porridge into his mouth, staring at his Riddle Coin. "I think it had to do with your father."
Draco twitched. "We all thought you were a daddy's boy. You were always saying 'My father this' or 'My father that' so much that it became something of a joke for us in Slytherin. Such a pathetic wizard, unable to handle his own problems that he had to rely on his daddy."
"Well, we can only hope that Scorpius is more of a man than you ever were," Daphne said, enjoying how Draco began to shift in his seat. It seemed she was finally getting to him. "We wouldn't want him to become a pathetic wizard like his father. What was his name? Dorko?"
Draco's head shot up to look at her with a furious glare on his face, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Daphne quickly continued. "I wonder what Astoria sees in such a pathetic wizard?" she asked, taking all of the wind from his sails and causing Draco to practically deflate in his seat. He had stopped eating, staring down at his breakfast as though he was contemplating suffocating himself in it.
"She's a Greengrass; she doesn't need or want his wealth. His magic is a joke. She can duel circles around him. What's left? What does he have that she desires?" Daphne asked, a cruel smile on her face. "Or maybe, it's because he is nothing. Maybe she loves him because he's like a pitiful pet? Something weak and pathetic, exactly like you."
The dining room was silent, not a sound to be heard save their breathing. Daphne's was calm and orderly, which contrasted with Draco's rapid and erratic breathes. Daphne wondered if he'd pass out.
But Draco did not. Slowly he regained control of his breathing and fixed her with the darkest, most hate-filled glare he could muster. He pushed his bowl of half-eaten porridge away and focused solely on his Riddle Coin, concentrated on it with the intensity of a dying man looking at a glass of water. Daphne said nothing more.
The day passed slowly, and although Daphne continued her plundering of the wine cellar and destroying the decorations, Draco did not move from his place at the table. Meals passed without him noticing, or partaking, and Daphne when to bed that night, he was still sitting at the table, unmoved.
When Daphne walked back into the room the next morning, a full week after Astoria disappeared, she was surprised to see that Draco had not moved from his seat during the night. His eyes were sunken, his face unshaven, and his clothes were unchanged as he fidgeted with the coin. Daphne sat down and began to eat breakfast, knowing that success or not, Malfoy Manor was going to be destroyed today.
It happened almost the second Daphne finished her breakfast and allowed the House-elves to clear it away. She had barely looked at Draco, to get one last look at her brother-in-law, when a curious and surprised expression crossed Draco's face. He vanished in a pop a second later.
Daphne was stunned. Draco had managed to solve the Riddle Coin! And in only a week too, which was a rather impressive accomplishment by any standard. But then Daphne grinned, for it meant the last reason she had for staying at Malfoy Manor was gone. She rose.
"House-elves!" she called. A moment later, every single one of the House-elves at Malfoy Manor popped into the dining room. "Repair the broken items, pack them up, and then ship them to the designated storage area at Cape Horn. Once you're done, light this manor on fire and report to Mopsy at Hogwarts."
"Yes, mistress," a dozen House-elves said as one, before hurrying to their tasks. Daphne nodded, satisfied, and pulled out her mirror. She carefully pulled the memory of what had just happened before placing it on the mirror's reflective surface, watching as it sunk in and glowed blue. It then faded, and she put it back on her waist.
Taking one last look around at Malfoy Manor, Daphne smiled. And then vanished with a pop, Apparating to the Ministry of Magic building in London.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
Alexander Dantes
Eleven Years Ago
Alexander grunted in pain as his bones and muscles twisted in ways they were never evolved for, breaking and tearing but healing thanks to the Philosopher's Stone in his chest. He was writhing on the floor of his basement workshop, having pushed all of the tables in the center of the room out of the way so he'd have room.
"Do it again. You're obviously still not there yet," Salazar Slytherin's bored voice ordered. He was the sole occupant of the painting on the wall, caressing a snake that was curled over his around his shoulders. "You need to reach a point where it's no longer painful."
Alexander flipped him off. "Go bugger Gordric. Or better yet, he can bugger you."
Salazar rolled his eyes, and caused his form to shimmer, turning into a woman. "Trust me, Gordric, despite his claims otherwise, is not a very refined lover. Now again, or you'll never become a Metamorphmagus."
Recently a child had arrived at Cape Horn with the rare magical ability. Alexander had managed to get his hands on the child's blood and investigated its magical properties, in the hopes of discovering the root of the strange and rare ability. And he did.
At a cellular level, magic infused a person's cells thoroughly, acting almost like a liquid. The magic could grow denser, which translated to a direct increase in power for a wizard, while also slightly improving the life and strength of their cells, increasing their overall fitness. This was why magicals were naturally more sturdy than non-magicals.
But a Metamorphmagus sacrificed some of that power, although that was an overly negative way of looking at it. They could be as strong or weak as any other magical after all and could grow stronger with time. But their magic did have a constant Transfiguration effect running at all times, and that allowed them to control the shape and structure of their body.
Alexander had approached Salazar "Sally" Slytherin and asked her to confirm his observations. But it also led to the fascinating revelation that all Metamorphmagus descended from a singular person, who lived over one thousand years ago and was a Parslemouth—otherwise known as Salazar Slytherin.
Once she had determined that Alexander had figured out the magic of how a Metamorphmagus works, she agreed to teach him how she originally reached the point where her magic unlocked the ability. It mainly involved Transfiguring oneself repeatedly.
It had taken Slytherin over a decade as she had to recover from the stress it caused her body, but Alexander had a unique advantage over her: He had a Philosopher's Stone that was constantly healing him embedded in his chest.
Which was he was Transfiguring his body into as many painful configurations as he could. "You're all heart, Sally," Alexander said as he wandlessly Transfigured his feet into flippers. He didn't just stretch the skin as most prank spells did, he had to force the bones and muscles underneath to change as well, which was the cause of his pain.
Sally shimmered again, turning back into Salazar. "You're the one who can't do a simple piece of magic without complaining," he taunted. The painting's eyes flickered to the open wall, exposed to the ocean, and back to Alexander. "I see the view down here is still horrible."
Alexander gave a weak, watery chuckle as blood dribbled up from his throat. He spat it out and focused, turning his flippers back into feet. He then did the same to his hands. "I built you four a nice shrine."
Salazar rolled his eyes. "And I'm bothered every hour of the day by fools calling me a dark lord! It doesn't help the others don't support my claims otherwise."
"You burned non-magical villages to the ground," Alexander grunted, as he turned his hands into a lion's paw. "You also experimented on Muggle-borns."
The portrait waved his hands dismissively. "Oh, boo hoo. I advance magical theory forward a thousand years, and everyone cries foul. Doesn't stop the hypocrites from using my discoveries."
Alexander grunted as he tried to force the rest of his body to shift into a lion, succeeding in growing the tail and sprouting a magnificent mane, but it became too much. He let the changes revert, and lay gasping for breath.
"Why did you choose a lion? Snakes are so much better," Salazar said, shimmering into the form of a snake. He continued to hiss, "is your lover still upset with me?"
Despite how painful it was, Alexander grinned. Parsletongue required a few pieces of biology that human bodies were simply incapable of reproducing. However, Metamorphmagi could overcome that hurdle by changing their vocal cords and inner ear to understand the language. Fortunately, it was simple and only took Alexander a few weeks to learn.
Unlike Daphne who was still struggling with Transfiguring herself. The former Slytherin was quite cross with her House's Founder, as well as her husband, who both found her frustration amusing.
"Yes," Alexander hissed back. It felt weird feeling his throat vibrate. He quickly reverted the change. "But, she's also upset with herself."
"Oh?" Salazar asked, returning to his human form.
"She knows it's foolish to compare our abilities to handle pain, that my tolerance came about from," Alexander struggled with the word for a moment, "unique circumstances."
Fortunately, Salazar wasn't going to be a jerk about Alexander's hesitation, and instead adopted a look of understanding on his face. "It was the same for the other Founders and me. Gordric especially was not pleased that he had the least tolerance to handle pain, although Helga and Rowena both failed at becoming Metamorphmagi as well."
"You never did tell me how you figured this all out a thousand years ago," Alexander said. He began forcing his body to shrink, and the sound of his bones breaking was very uncomfortable to hear. "Distract me."
Salazar was silent for a long moment as Alexander struggled. "Very well."
"As you now know, I was not born a Metamorphmagus. I was merely the first to unlock the secret. Before I met the others, I worked as a stonemason, using my wand and magic to Transfigure whatever stone I needed for the jobs I was contracted for. I've helped build several castles, you know, although you're already familiar with the most famous one."
The portrait sighed. "But I also had a family: a wife and two sons. The oldest will forever haunt the stones of Hogwarts, carrying his chains as he must for his crimes, but my younger son, he was murdered by the muggles. He was murdered for having the gift of magic!"
"My wife was distraught, as was I. But morbid thoughts haunted her and not a month after we buried our youngest son did she take her own life by hanging herself from her favorite tree. Such was the strength of her magic and the tragedy of her death that it curse that tree, causing it to beat and smash any so foolish as to approach it. Since she will never rest, never shall that tree."
"My oldest son left, joining up with a band of thieves, but I stayed behind, wallowing in my misery. I drowned myself in my cups and sought the muggles who killed my son, who caused my wife to end her life, and my eldest to flee. And I found them."
"Can you imagine their fear? It was delicious. I sliced and tore and cursed them into a thousand pieces, and then into a thousand more! I did everything in my power to make sure that their final hours on this earth would be hell, and I know I succeeded. I stood over the bodies of my foes, victorious!"
"But in my arrogance, I did not pay attention to their families, or their need to gain 'justice' over me for my deeds. They doused me in oil and threw a torch at me, and I was set ablaze." Salazar shuddered in remembered pain.
"Have you ever imagined what it's like to burn alive? To turn into a crisp? To feel your skin melt, your muscles burst, and your nerves die? That's what happened to me, and in my desperation to stop the pain, magic answered and doused the flames."
"But the damage remained, and I knew no healing spells. I was a stonemason, and the extent of my education reflected that, in simple Charms and Transfiguration spells. So, half-delirious with pain, I attempted to Transfigure my body."
"It worked that much should be obvious. The pain faded, and I thought I was healed. But hours later, I was suddenly wracked by terrible pain, and my wounds began to reappear, and I had to practically crawl into the village to find a healer to discover what I had done."
"Healing never uses Transfiguration. If you Transfigure a wound shut, it will reopen the moment the magic sustaining it runs out. Charms must be used, delicately and precisely, to suture wounds shut. When I had Transfigured my body, I focused on returning them to shape, but the body can only heal so fast. Hours later, my body began to unravel."
Salazar fell silent as Alexander digested the Founder's words. Alexander could guess what happened next. Salazar experimented with the new skill, most likely on himself if his depression and anguish from losing his family was enough, and unlocked the secret to being a Metamorphmagus.
"The Muggles haven't improved in recent years," Alexander said, using the slur for the first time in a long time. "They've grown to the point where they're destroying the world, murdering millions over their beliefs, and consuming so much the world is in danger of becoming a husk."
"Then your plan is just," Salazar said with a polite nod, "although I've never had any reservations about it. That was Helga."
"I know," Alexander said, rising to his feet so he could face Salazar properly. "But I wanted... Well, I don't really know. Maybe humanity is doomed to an endless cycle of destruction and misery."
"Perhaps. But even if it is, some of us would prefer to go down fighting," Salazar said. The two men shared a grin.
"Limits are meant to be pushed," Alexander said. He tore off his eye patch, causing Salazar to widen his eyes.
"Oh no, please tell me you're not going to try it again. It got everywhere."
"Relax, my eyes shouldn't explode again," Alexander said. "I hope."
"Portraits can taste, you know. Your eyeball does not taste good."
All the nerves in Alexander's left arm went numb. "Nope, not that," he mumbled as he restored them. "I think I-"
Whatever Alexander was going to say was cut off as he howled in pain, clutching his face. He fell to his knees as he felt his missing eye painfully regrow, swelling to fill a space that had been empty for years. The pain in his head was intense as his nerves fired faster than a machine gun, and Alexander couldn't help but scream as the pain exceeded any Crucio he had ever felt in his life.
And then, it faded.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
Alexander approached Daphne from behind, wrapping his arms around her slender waist and pulling her close. He laid a gentle trail of kisses up her neck, distracting her from the book she was reading to the giggling school children. Alexander winked at them as he turned Daphne around.
Daphne gasped. Alexander had two eyes again, but they had changed. The iris was a dark purple, almost black, an impossible shade for any mammal to have, but it paired well with the scars on Alexander's face, giving him a regal, if wild, look.
"What do you think?" Alexander asked. Daphne smiled.
"I think you're very handsome, and that you look like a king."
Alexander leaned in close, his lips almost touching Daphne's. "It's a good thing I'm married to a queen then, isn't it?"
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
AN: Yes, the chapter is slightly shorter than usual. it's mainly because too much happens on October 14th in the story, it needed to be split up to make it run smoothly.
Any similarities my OC's have to real world figures is purely coincidental. They're not based on anyone, at all, because no political figure would be this stupid. right?
Harry: A lot of things are happening that he's not agreeing with. For years he fought against the Dark Arts, the exposure of magic to Muggles, and now it's all for naught. Nicolas Flamel, somebody he trusts, is authorizing Dark Magic in order to protect their world, and because of this, Harry is having a conflict of interest, hopefully shown by how slow he is to react, and how he prefers verbal confrontation over using his wand. I also tried to show how he was perfectly willing to find a compromise with the Muggles, but they were unwilling to even consider it.
The Muggles: no one is going to be happy about millions of new citizens being revealed in their countries, especially ones who can use magic. I also think it's unlikely for every Muggle government to be made aware of the magicals within their borders, as there are some countries who have a history of reacting with violence towards those who are different. The magicals want to avoid dying, so I consider it reasonable that some countries would be kept in the dark.
Draco: As I've already stated, the Riddle Coins are meant to help teach magicals wandless magic, by teaching and guiding them. The ones who complete the riddles are brought by Portkey to Cape Horn. Draco completed his riddles in a week, because in this story, and Alexander Dantes, wandless magic relies quite strongly on NEED. Ego does get in the way of it however, which was why Daphne was so harsh to him.
Daphne: I had a lot of fun thinking how she would mess with Draco's mind during this week. She doesn't really care one way or another if Draco solved the coin, her concern is her sister's safety and happiness. She ordered the House-elves to repair, collect, and relocate the belongings in the home for the simple reason that it can be used as a bribe to ensure Draco remains on his best behavior. Scorpius, at this time, is still at Hogwarts for his first year.
Metamorphmagus: It's a thought I've had for a few years, that basically anyone can learn it if they're willing to subject themselves to torture to achieve it. The Animagi ability is similar, only in the shape of an animal that resonates with your soul (which is usually shown with your patronus). The two abilities can work together, but... well, spoilers.
Salazar "Sally" Slytherin: Parsletongue and Metamorphmagus both originate from him. I did switch his pronouns in part of the chapter, but that was to help emphasize the point that Slytherin is an accomplished Metamorphmagus, which can apparently change their genders. He can also turn into a snake. His "origin" story was fun to write, I wanted to paint him less as a raving lunatic and more of someone who lost everything, and hates the Muggles for it. His eldest son is the Bloody Baron, and his wife's spirit haunts the Whomping Willow. (before you complain about canon, you can move/transplant plants around. It is not inconcievable that Dumbledore moved the Whomping Willow to its new spot. It makes further sense when you consider that a small sapling would not deter anyone from investigating it. A massive, house size tree capable of breaking boulders on the other hand? much more scary.)
Alexander: He's not afraid of pain, if that wasn't obvious between this story and the first. He also has an intense curiosity and willingness to push the boundaries of safety, which allows him to do things that most people would consider beyond them. His ambition to build an Acropolis, for example, is entirely because he can think ahead further than most people. His eye color was mainly for my own amusement. It doesn't add anything to the story, but I wanted a noticeable change so that people would do a double-take when they see him. And purple has always been the color of royalty.
Acropolis: It's still being built. It's a massive, mountain sized structure, it's no where near being done. No updates on it this chapter because there isn't a lot to say other than "They're slightly higher than they were, and there are more platforms and levels than last year," Not exactly riveting reading.
I hope you're all enjoying the story! The NEXT UPDATE will be in THREE DAYS.