Like a Phoenix From the Ashes
Author's Foreword:
I own nothing. All rights for recognizable characters from Harry Potter go to J. K. Rowling and all rights for recognizable characters from the Percy Jackson and Heroes of Olympus books go to Rick Riordan. I'm just playing in their sandboxes.
Warning: I had this idea of what Tom might have to look forward to in the Greco-Roman afterlife as a legacy of Hecate. It involves his body being separated into parts to represent the damage he caused himself through the use of the horcrux ritual. If the idea of non-graphic dismemberment (imagine Thing from the Addams Family) bothers you: please, turn back now. Otherwise, enjoy!
2 May, 1998, Hogwarts Castle, Scotland
"Avada Kedavra!" I screamed as I brandished the Elder wand at Harry Potter, and then I died.
My spirit was ejected from my body as my enemies cheered. It was similar to when I was a disembodied shade, but for the first time I was acutely aware of the damage I had done to myself when I had created my soul anchors. I screamed in agony and collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain. It was as if my spirit had been a statue that had been smashed to pieces and seven major parts had been stolen. I realized with some horror that this pain may never end, as I was already dead.
I was vaguely aware of a mist or fog rolling in and obscuring the rest of the world from my view and then a being arrived who landed next to me. He had honey gold skin, black hair that shimmered with blue and purple, and wore bronze plate armor in the ancient Greek style. He also had great, black, feathered wings which he now tucked behind him and his face was filled with disgust as he looked down at me.
"Tom Marvolo Riddle, legacy of Hecate, I shall now bring you to Charon, for you have an overdue meeting with Death, and Death does not like being kept waiting." The being said.
He reached down and grasped me by the neck with a gauntleted hand. His wings spread wide and suddenly we were soaring through the air.
We flew for what felt like days but could have been mere minutes. There was little to see even if I had been in a state to really look, for the pain was beyond what I could imagine the Cruciatus must feel like. I was wracked with pain and anxiety as my terror knew no bounds, this was no adventure, this was what I had spent most of my life fighting against! I was supposed to have been immortal!
Finally I was thrown bodily into a boat and words were exchanged by the winged being and the ferryman. For the apparition before me could be no one else. Dressed in a black robe a skeletal figure loomed above me in the small boat. It seemed to leer down at me as if it took great pleasure in my terror and pain.
We set off and soon I realized we were in some vast underground space. I could not see over the boat as I could not sit up, so awful was the damage to my spirit, but it sounded as if the boat was passing through a swamp of garbage more than the sound I would have expected of a river. Once or twice I thought I saw bat-winged demons flying overhead, and my imagination began conjuring up the hell that the nuns in the orphanage had threatened us with. At any moment I expected to be thrown into a lake of fire, but it never came.
Finally we reached the far shore and we bumped against the bank. A horrible demoness with withered skin and sharp clawed hands reached down and grabbed me again by the throat and lifted me out. I saw that she too was winged, but her wings were like great bat's wings while those of the first being had been like that of a black bird' sneered at me barring a mouth full of sharp teeth and cackling said "Welcome to the underworld, honey."
I was slammed onto some kind of table, and then my vision went black but I was unable to pass out as the pain seemed to increase immeasurably. Suddenly I realized that the pain had increased as now I could feel phantom pains from the parts of my spirit that had been portioned off as my horcruxes! Molten lava seemed to course through my veins and needles pierced every millimeter of my skin and for a time I felt only pain. Soon I could hear someone screaming themselves hoarse until I realized it was me.
Then suddenly the pain was gone! I was whole again! They had reunited me with my missing soul pieces! I took a great shaking breath and just as I was about to expel it in a sigh of relief, the demoness gripped me by the arm and threw me to the hard stone ground.
"Get up Honey, you're late!" screeched the she-devil. I rose to my feet shakily. How dare these creatures treat me in such a way. I was Lord Voldemort! I rose to my full height and realized that at some point I had been clothed in a robe of some rough cloth. I adjusted my bearing to that which had struck fear into my minions and just as I was about to turn and give these beasts a taste of my wrath, I heard the crack of a whip and a searing pain exploded across my back.
"Move Honey!" cackled the creature with a mad tone that Bellatrix Lestrange would have envied. I moved. I was suddenly assaulted by memories of the orphanage, of being brought before the matron for punishment and it was as if all the intervening years melted away and the fear and loathing returned.
I looked up when I heard a snarl and saw a cerberus so large it looked as if with two heads it could have ripped a dragon in half. I was not so foolish as to antagonize such a beast so I kept my head down.
I had walked for only a short time when a voice I did not recognize uttered the name I loathed nearly as much as the man who sired me. "Tom Marvolo Riddle." I looked up at the figure and realized I was standing before three men.
"Ye art come here before us to be judged." Said the one on the right who was dressed in a ridiculous outfit that made him resemble a Victorian England era lord. The other two were dressed in robes more fitting for warm climates than was commonly seen in Britain but were clearly made with exquisite taste and rich fabrics.
Suddenly I felt an intrusion in my head as all three were suddenly going through my every memory. My life, or lives flashed before my eyes, for it was not just my life that we witnessed, but also the quasi-lives that my soul pieces had led after they became Horcruxes. Some slept until the very end when Potter or one of his little friends dared destroy it and I was puzzled by the fact that he had a sword in his possession that could do such a thing! Others, like the diary, remembered being woken and attempting to make a return all on their own, like the diary. I shuddered to think what it would have been like to have had to fight myself if ever one of them had succeeded! No matter how I tried to fight or use Occlumency I failed.
After an eternity that was likely only minutes it was done, and the three men looked at each other and discussed my case in quiet, yet harsh tones. Then they turned to me and the one in the center gave me their ruling:
"Tom Riddle, for the life you have lived we sentence you to the Fields of Punishment. For the rest of eternity you shall be torn asunder into seven pieces each day, and your task will be to pull yourself together."
I was in shock. I had no illusions that I would not be punished for what men like Dumbledore would have termed my immoral deeds, but surely this was too much!
"I anticipate that ye desirest to understand why;" said the left most judge, "Never have ye entertained a selfless thought. Everything ye did, was only to better yourself. Ye attempted to cheat this very place and its Lord by ripping your gods given soul to pieces by sending us innocents in your stead. Since splitting your soul to exist for eternity was your wish, we shall grant it thee, just not the way that ye anticipated it."
"NEXT!" the right most judge screamed, and suddenly raptor talons grabbed my arms and hoisted me into the air. I screamed and looked up to see the same she-demon from before, she cackled as she flew me to my eternal doom... or so I believed at the time.
13 years later
"Has anyone seen my arm?" I asked wearily.
I was greeted only by sour looks or mean laughter. It was nearly the middle of what passed for "day" in this gods forsaken place and while I had managed to find six of my seven pieces my left arm still eluded me. The pain was atrocious, but during the intervening years I had learned that to exist in this place was pain. I would spend the day wandering the Fields among the other prisoners seeking out where my parts had been flung, as they never seemed to land in the same place twice. When I had finally succeeded I would no longer feel the pain and I would shut down out of sheer exhaustion only awakening to the excruciating pain of being torn apart once again.
I sometimes tried to conjure up memories of my time as Lord Voldemort, imagining to myself being rid of this curse and escaping to... where? No matter where I went, Thanatos or the furies, or some demi-god would find me and send me back. No, it was a hopeless existence, and I was too weary to imagine escape anymore.
"Hey, Ainigma!" a voice called out from somewhere behind me. As I turned to look at the source I was hit in the ribs by my missing arm. The voice was that of a fellow prisoner. Many had taken to calling me Puzzle, or Ainigma, a play on the name of Riddle and because, they said, I had to assemble myself like a jig-saw puzzle every day.
"Gaia has locked down the doors of death and chained Thanatos! Word is that all we need to do is make our way there and she will be our patron, giving us life and freedom!" They said.
With that a battle horn sounded from the distant palace of Hades and the concussion of truly terrible blows began to shake the ground and pound our ears.
"That's the signal!" Began to be murmured among many prisoners and an exodus followed.
It wasn't far from the fields of punishment to the gaping maw that led to Tartarus and to my dismay I saw that they were willingly flinging themselves into the gaping chasm. I balked at the sight but to my dismay the number of prisoners had grown into a throng at my back and I was being pressed from behind by those eager for an escape from an eternity of cruel and useless punishment, then an impossibly deep, rasping noise accompanied by a foul wind began to pull us in.
Soon I could not have turned back if I had wanted to and I was sent falling into the realm of monsters.
I don't know how long it took me to travel to the doors of death. Many prisoners didn't make it and were destroyed by demons for which I had no name. In life I had no need for the Greek myths, and while legends like Circe were often invoked as expletives among the British magicals, religion and myth had never drawn my attention. This ignorance meant that even now I lack names for much of what I saw down there.
Suffice it to say that I was one of the strong ones who made the journey and were allowed to travel back to the land of the living.
I had taken the elevator and been led out of the underground temple. As I passed outdoors I was momentarily blinded. I don't think I had ever appreciated sunshine more than I did at that moment. I stumbled away like so many others, and gloried in the fact that I was whole!
Never again would I create a horcrux. Now I knew that death was not the end and that a being of sufficient power need not fear it! It was escapable!
I was led away, clothed in a Greek style robe, and questioned about how I could best serve my new patron. I discovered that my outward appearance resembled that of a 60 year old wizard with brown hair shot through with grey at the temples and the charismatic face I had inherited from my father which I had used to first organize the Death Eaters so long ago. My eyes were no longer red, and I realized that I would once again be able to enjoy anonymity as I passed among even other wizards. I explained, using the terminology I had learned in death, that I was a legacy of Hecate through my mother's family and that I had been formally trained by an enclave of wizards. I told them that my magic required a focus, and that I would need to procure one in order to best serve.
They told me that I was near what the mortals called Epirus in Greece. I asked them how I could contact them, but they told me that Gaia herself would contact me when the time came and that I should go about the business of gathering my strength.
I should mention that at no time did I intend to serve anyone, even a goddess, but I suspect that they believed I would be one of thousands of diversions to keep Gaia's enemies occupied until it was too late.
I remembered Greece from my younger years, when I traveled the world learning about all the ways I could gain strength through the so-called Dark Arts. I decided to follow a fellow escaped prisoner, Midas, until we arrived in Athens where he was to procure a flight to America while I made my way to the local wizarding enclave.
As I was making my way through the magical marketplace I realized that I didn't have a name I could use. I stopped in my tracks causing a plump little witch to bump into me and start swearing a blue streak at me in Greek. I paid her no mind, lost in thought over a question I hadn't had to ponder since my Hogwarts years. Tom Riddle was out of the question, as was anything that might be connected to my former life.
Immediately the image of a phoenix came to mind, I had been reborn once again, and I remembered that the Old English spelling was Fenix. Mr. Fenix had a certain ring to it. I also chose to honor the memory of the slipperiest wizard I had ever known, Lucius Malfoy, by adopting the French form of his given name: Lucien.
And so I became Lucien Fenix.
I strolled into the largest edifice in the marketplace, completely ignoring the large Manticores that were restrained at either side of the large double doors that led into the bank. I awaited my turn at a teller before I asked about selling precious materials such as pure elemental gold.
It is a well known fact that one cannot transfigure something into gold, nor can it get conjured. The Alchemists of old knew this, yet sought a higher law that would allow the creation of riches from less valuable items. The small stones which Midas had therefore changed into gold were of great value in the magical markets and I intended on selling them slowly to procure what wealth I would need initially.
The Goblin with whom I was dealing initially sneered and told me that it wasn't wise to waste the time of Gringotts bank. I insisted that it be tested and evaluated, using all of my talents of persuasion while internally feeling revolted at the need to deal with such filthy creatures in such a demeaning manner.
Finally after receiving the results that it was indeed elemental gold, and haggling for a lucrative price, I left the bank with a sack of currency and made my way to a shop that sold all manner of bags, cases and trunks. I purchased a bag with an undetectable extension charm.
I then made my way to the robes shop and purchased a few sets of robes and traveling apparel. I ensured that they were of quality but would not draw unneeded attention. I asked if I could use the washroom in order to change into my new clothes without causing a scene and the witch at the counter tittered at the provocative thought but led me to a washroom.
I quickly dressed in shirt, slacks, open robes and robust traveling boots of dragonhide. The shirt had a scale pattern in green that reminded me of my dear Nagini, the robes and slacks were of the darkest black. When I looked in the mirror I saw a man with the poise and physique of a politician or business magnate. The mirror even complimented my appearance in Greek.
Then, dressed as a proper wizard, I entered the wand shop.
It took some time, but soon we found a wand that would bond with me. Eleven inches of ebony and a phoenix tail feather core. I found it interesting that a phoenix feather wand would still choose me, but I took it as a good omen for the times to come.
I reserved a room at the local Inn, and locked myself away. I began to plan. I had learned much in the last 13 years, but what I learned most was how ignorant wizards truly were. We had forgotten our heritage as descendants of a goddess! There was a whole pantheon out there who were constantly mingling their seed with mortals producing demi-gods. But most importantly was the fact that gods were disposable, and that, like Dionysus, mortals could attain or even usurp, godhood.
I had a new goal. I would never again fear death, because I would become its master. Hades, Thanatos, the Furies, all of them, would rue the day they condemned me.
Elsewhere:
At Camp Half-Blood, green glowing smoke swirled around a young feminine figure like a serpent. The young lady whose head was covered in red curls opened her eyes and began to speak with an unearthly voice:
Three whose power sustains the world,
Whose blood has mixed since times untold,
Ignored these seeds from which now springs,
A seven-part soul's ultimate reckoning...
Elsewhere in a private meeting with Odin the Norns continued to prophesy:
Having flown from death a second time,
It seeks to crown itself divine,
Three realms below to overthrow,
Three thrones in one to bring Death woe.
In Hogwarts a student listened in shock as Trelawney continued:
To stop the shattering of the Pact,
No less than seven will have to act,
A god of death who walks the earth,
His magician consort since his rebirth,
A legacy of trickster and wolf,
A dead wizard who can bridge the gulf,
The King of Ghosts,
The Queen of Hearts,
Whose differences need not keep them apart, and
A daughter of the magic goddess
who looks upon her seed with kindness.
At Brooklyn House, Cleo continued to read from the glowing scroll, unaware of the looks her listeners wore:
Each shall heed the ancient call,
Lest Death's forces once more stall,
A war resume like none since seen,
And not Death but Chaos reign Supreme.
Author's Notes:
Can you guess who my seven are from the clues given in the Prophecy?
This is one of several shorts I have written in this AU. They all lead towards the adventure promised by the prophesy. That story is far from complete, but if I ever feel it is ready to see the light of day I'll likely post it here. Thank you for reading!
L-P