Elysium Awakening
Hecate. Freyja. Wukong. Sukuna. Veles.
The five prime planets of the Elysium system. Home of the Coven, the alliance of magical beings that calls these worlds home. For now, they hung motionless around the centre of the Black Reef, where a star, hand-crafted by magic, awaited its grand release into the Milky Way galaxy. Once this system would re-enter real space, gravity would once again be allowed to take a hold on it, and the planets would find their orbits around their sun.
One sun, made by the hands of mages. Five planets, perfectly placed to always form a pentagon around it’s middle. Seven gas giants, and thirteen moons, surrounded by ten thousand asteroids on which runes mark the border to Assembly territory. Enchantments of a scale never before seen among magicals were carved into them and empowered by the might of a magical civilization unbound by superstition, fear and secrecy.
Harry intended to keep his promise. When the Assembly gathered one last time under the protection of their existence in Limbo, he would be there to rally them, and to stand with them.
Long had they awaited this day. Just under forty-thousand years ago were they taken from Earth, and put into Limbo, given no other purpose than to dream of their time afterwards. Dream, plan and coordinate. When they awoke, it was to planets devoid of life, filled with sand and dust. Yet, they did not despair. They had seen this in their dreams. For the magicals these planets had not been empty, they were a canvas on which to bring forth their dreams into reality. This first awakening had happened fifty Earth years ago.
When Harry arrived through the veil, he did so miles away from the Assembly. He intended to take a stroll, first. Once more, he wanted to remind himself of the beauty he protected. His feet met the dirt and gravel paths between fields of wheat and sunflowers. Somewhere on the horizon, a farmer summoned a rain-cloud to irrigate some of his fields. Enchanted ploughs prepared another field for its next round of crops, and walking even further he saw the fruits of all this labour being gathered.
Grain seeds as large as grapes hung heavy on the golden grass, before swarms of sickles cut their stems. Conjured gusts of wind carried the harvest towards a heavy duty flying carpet. A young witch sat upon it, directing all this magic with small moves of her wand, utterly lost in her work. So much so, she almost fell from the carpet when she spotted the Veiled Man walking past her fields, waving a greeting. With a grin as bright as the sun, she waved back at him.
The fields made way for gardens, tended by fauns and centaurs. Fairies and pixies flew to and fro, lovingly tending to trees and bushes, while children of all sorts of lineages played in the pond in the middle of it all.
The gardens met a hill, on which wine grew in such abundance, that Harry had no qualm taking a truss of grapes to snack on while he hiked. They were sweet and pleasantly sour, and would make for fine wine once the elves got their hands on the harvest.
Harry smiled as he almost reached the crest of the hill, in anticipation of what he was about to see. How he loved to pretend it was his first time, every time. He took his time admiring it, this city that his charges had built in his honour. Every time the view of it grasped his heart and filled him with gratitude and renewed his love for his people.
Atop a hill, surrounded by a glorious city, stood his palace. The Halls of Death were the centrepiece of this new civilization they had built. Formed from white stone, the fortress stretched up into the clouds, so high that the top was already tinged in a light ozone blue. It dwarfed any skyscraper of old Earth by a long shot, yet still looked like a medieval castle. Towers and plazas hovered next to the central, seemingly only attached to it by bridges. Giant trees grew along its sides, with their twisting roots creating lakes, and gardens, plazas and theatres in between them.
The city that surrounded it, leaned on old european architecture. In his honour, they had built Hecate City like old London, or Paris, so that he - one of the few who could even remember these places - would feel at home. Small shops and cafés, pubs and offices lined the main street. The people who lived above them decorated their balconies with flowers and little charms, from dreamcatchers to wind chimes. Music played on the street, coming from a band of a goblin, a wizard and a house elf who entertained the people in the pub. All of them had at least one eye on the live-illusion from the main hall, playing above the counter. The Assembly gathered, and the people had been informed that today was the day their tireless labour of the last fifty years would be brought to the test. Would they be able to withstand the galaxy, or perish for good?
Harry hoped that his careful planning, and his angels, would be enough. Armies of his people stood ready, waiting for the reveal, which would also mark the beginning of their missions. Those ranged from diplomatic and aid, to militaristic. Given what they had found out about the galaxy, all following missions would probably veer in the direction of violent intervention.
He took his time, strolling through the lively streets. He was never approached, as everyone knew that they ought not to when he was in contemplation. Still, he saw them smile, wave, silently greet him with a nod and it warmed his heart.
His angels would no doubt have all returned with their reports, and he had a feeling he knew well what their conclusions would be. “Burn everything” or something equally defeatist. In all fairness, that had been his initial reaction as well, fifty years ago. The horrors of the forty-first millennium were uncountable, ever present and on the verge of winning.
With these thoughts in mind, Harry opened the veil of reality like a curtain, and stepped through. His path through the city would have taken him hours, and there was little time. He had granted himself one last look at his charges. Now he entered a round hall, in the middle of his palace. The walls were made of the same white stone, with pockets of different rock shining in their polished glory like a natural mandala. Enormous stained-glass windows depicting episodes of magical history brought coloured light into the assembly chamber.
In the middle of the hall, stood a large, round table. It was made from wood of all five major planets, carved by the most excellent of artisans. Around it sat fifteen archmages, three representatives of each planet. Next to each archmage was one of his angels. He had summoned them from the Beyond. Friends, confidantes, mentors and old enemies of his.
Next to his empty seat were his two most trusted angels. Hermione and Ron. Hermione lightly shook her head, no doubt annoyed that he had once more forgotten about the time. He was late. Ron leaned back in one of the thirty-one throne-like chairs and grinned at his mate. Harry removed his hood, and grinned right back at him.
Both of them had large, black wings. Their hair had turned equally black, their skin pale and their eyes were a void of darkness in which the universe was reflected. They were no longer mortals, after all. They were his angels, warriors and scholars of the old world, who have had their time of life. Now they were custodians of the magical world. Leaders would they be, until a time when they could give the reigns to the archmages proper. Years, decades, centuries or millenia. No one was sure how long this process would take, yet no one was in a hurry to complete it.
Hermione and Ron, Sirius and Remus, Neville and Luna were the first ones he had summoned. They had agreed with vigor, eager to once more stand by his side in defence of their civilization, even when it meant to leave behind everlasting peace. They had done so in life, they would do so in death.
Fred and George had agreed to leave the world after with such enthusiasm, that Harry had been suspicious of them for the longest time. His worries had been for naught. All they aspired to do, while not on missions, was to spread the joyful chaos of their youth, once more, together.
After them, the rows of volunteers became sparse. He had talked to Albus several times, but the spirit of the headmaster had always denied him. Death was the entry to the next great adventure, and Albus wasn’t done with it, yet. He has had the weight of the world on his shoulders, once. He needed no repeat. Furthermore, though never spoken aloud, it was clear that Albus could also not stomach seeing the man he had come to know as Gellert suffer as he does. The Emperor had been a dear friend to Albus, who had turned out to be cold, calculating and merciless if his plan demanded it. Broken hearts echoed even in the afterlife.
In his stead, one of the greatest Charms mistresses of his time on Earth had agreed to once more fill the world with her creations. Fleur was the main architect of Elysium - the configuration of the five planets. She still hadn’t forgiven him about the black hair and wings.
Hagrid had agreed to be summoned, if he would be allowed to save all them poor critters of the galaxy. Harry agreed that he may do so on a world on the other side of the galaxy, but that was enough for Hagrid.
To this point, Harry had chosen people he had known to be great in their fields, because he had witnessed it first hand. Ten years ago, Sirius had come to him, and suggested - begged, really - for him to consider asking people he had hoped he would spend a life with, back on Earth. Harry had been unsure, but as a favour to his godfather, he had asked them.
Now he smiled at Lily and James Potter, once his mother and father, now part of his angels. Their work had been magnificent, and essential to how their armies functioned. It also didn’t hurt that the Marauders were back. With Lily replacing Peter, their fury was breathtaking. Once the armies would march, these four would lead them to the most difficult of frontiers.
However, there were places where Harry hesitated to send anyone. Places so dark, that comprehending them was a danger in its own. This was when two spirits from the beyond came to him, fell to their knees and begged for redemption. Souls that had been corrupted, mauled by the claws of their own hubris. Their physical forms were still looking hurt, with bandages and torn cloth being most of their attire.
Harry had agreed, back then. He had taken one of these souls and thrown it to Hermione’s feet, to see what his best friend’s judgement would be. To his surprise, Hermione had extended a hand to Bellatrix.
The last soul, Harry took and threw it into the middle of a sun. There he took its pieces, melted them and moulded them, broke them further and pieced them together. The damage done to it had been of cosmic proportions, a sin so vile it shook the firmaments in revulsion. The purifying heat of a sun’s core was barely enough to bring it back. It was still unstable. It was prone to failure. Yet, it would be his greatest weapon against the darkest of enemies this galaxy had to offer. Tom Riddle would lead the mightiest mages of Elysium to war, against the worst horrors the galaxy has to offer. It was a small price to pay, for eternity spent whole.
“It is good to see you all.” Harry stood behind his own seat at the table, and let his eyes glance over the people in attendance. Behind the table, surrounding it, were hundreds of adjutants and archivers, ready to witness the emergence and document it for future generations. Many of them would later place their memories in pensieves, keeping their memories free from the errors of quills. Harry looked up to some who carried blue orbs with them. Artefacts made to record a room, and send the information to the people watching all across their system. “Shall we face the music?”
The tension in the chamber was like a thick fog that one could almost taste. Mere minutes separated them from their emergence into real space. Nobody spoke, as they fell into step behind Harry. Doors of crystal and gold opened towards an enormous balcony, behind which the roar of tens of thousands of soldiers awaited them.
He let his eyes roam over them. Auror battalions, flanked by centaur cavalry. Veela choirs, and goblin warbands, all invisibly supported and supplied by houseelve logistics regiments. Dragonriders perched on the shoulders of armoured giants, who themselves were dwarfed by the porcelain, gold and crystal golem that stood in the middle, representing the pinnacle of magical warfare. The days were over when their most devastating weapons were mandrakes and fiendfyre. They had created awe-inspiring weaponry, trained harder than any magic user ever had, and found immeasurable strength in the unity of magic.
Archmages and angels lined themselves up to his left and right. Some of them gasped as they saw the small fraction of their army. They had never been united in one place like this before. Harry usually wasn’t one for parades, but today was different. Today he wanted the people of Elysium to see the results of their work and dedication.
He stepped forward, to the balustrade, and touched his throat lightly. His voice amplified, he spoke. “Forty thousand years ago, we have faced our brothers and sisters in battle, and in order to preserve us both, chose defeat. We have been granted a grace period, as we who we wield magic were sent to dream of our coming accomplishments; manifest them in our minds so that we might act as one. And look at you all. Look at what you have accomplished. When we started, we named this system Elysium in the hopes of good lives. Never have I dared hope they would become the paradises that they are today. However, most of all, we were dreaming of a galaxy in which we would be one with our family again.”
He paused, and let his words settle in. He saw frowning, serious faces among the archmages and angels, who knew how dire the situation was. Alas, they did not have the luxury to turn back now. “When the clocks of Hecate City show high noon, we will free our system from the curse that hides us from the galaxy. Friends, here and all across the five worlds, you have heard me say it a hundred times, but allow me to do so once more. We will face horrors, of which many are still beyond our comprehension. Mankind has risen to astounding heights, only to fall deeper than it ever has. All civilizations out there have suffered similar fates. As we prepare to contact them; help them, we must remember that they are not people of peace. Be cautious. Be gentle with them. Know when you must resort to violence, and be swift and just in the swing of your wands.”
Then, a black owl flew down towards him, and perched on his shoulder. It nudged his temple, ever so gently. Harry had indulged in one desire, needless for the mission, but oh so important for his peace. Hedwig had maybe been the most eager to come back from the Beyond.
She soared up into the skies again, and down to the soldiers as if to muster them herself. It was two minutes until the curse would be lifted.
“Proud warriors of Elysium. You have trained tirelessly for this very moment. You are the pride and joy of the Five Worlds. Testament to our strength. Beloved by your people. Protectors to us all. I know that each and every one of you would gladly lay down their lives for this dream of ours. I pray that none will have to. These first days, you will go out into the galaxy and land the first blow onto the shackles of our brothers and sisters!”
“May your magic ever serve you, and your might never lessen. Forty thousand years of dreams are coming to an end. It is time we make them reality!”