(an immortal's death)
(P h o e n i x)
Greek Φοῖνιξ Phoînix, from ancient Egyptian Benu: 'the reborn/the newborn son'; Latin Phoenix
The Phoenix is a mythical bird that burns, i.e. dies, at the end of its life cycle, only to rise again from its decaying body or from its ashes.
For thousand upon thousand of years, civilisations all around the world have had their tales about Phoenixes. A mythical creature. A fabled bird, so thoroughly entwined in cultures most people have heard of it, yet no-one seems to know much about it.
More than 2,500 years ago, the Greeks embedded the story of the Phoenix in the Western imagination, before that, its story began in ancient Egypt and Arabia.
Hundreds of legends exist. Some tales claim the Phoenix has magical healing abilities, others have a Phoenix without its eternal flame.
Many see the ethereal bird as a representation of their empires, their religions, and their unions.
In its origin in Egyptian culture the Phoenix was a divine being. In Greek and Roman cultures it loses its sacredness and becomes more of a supernatural creature and a symbol of political perfection. In the Christian era the Phoenix became the symbol for the resurrection of the body and of the immortal soul.
Nowadays, no-one knows anymore where the Phoenix came from. What this mythical bird really is, what he is truly capable of.
The Chinese speak of Feng-Huang, the Japanese of Ho-o. Egyptian tales speak of Benu, the Persians have the Sīmorgh, the Russians the Zhar-ptitsa.
The one thing they all agree on is that the Phoenix is a bird that came to earth with the purpose of doing good deeds and ward off evils; to bring prosperity when it appears and calamity on its departure.
Some stories say that only one Phoenix may exist in any time.
That is what the Muggles know. The Magicals, well, they know a bit more.
They know that these wondrous creatures actually exist. That is a fact. Where they hail from? That has been a mystery for as long as magic existed. All they know is that they will appear and disappear in a burst of flames, leaving behind only their impression upon the soul of the person lucky — or perhaps unlucky — enough to experience them.
The Phoenix is a symbol of resurrection and immortality, justice and self-suffering. They are immune to the gaze of the Basilisk, yet their tears — a panacea to all but the Basilisk’s venom. The tears might fight the venom, might try to counteract it, but they can’t render it innocuous.
The venom will always harm, while the tears will always heal.
Meanwhile, their song touched the listener’s very soul. Magical in every way, a Phoenix’s song could increase the courage of those they believed good and strike fear into the hearts of those who served evil; their wondrous melody the most powerful when the Phoenix itself felt deeply.
As a last fact: Phoenixes are extremely loyal creatures, capable of coming to the aid of beings who share a similar devotion.
When Fawkes arrived in a burst of brilliant, golden flames, Hadrian didn’t care about all of that. All he cared about was that Fawkes was going to take Draco with him, was going to take Draco’s body away from him.
In Hadrian’s second year in Hogwarts, Fawkes had stared the Basilisk fearlessly into his deadly eyes. Now, burning and crying upon Hadrian’s bonded, Fawkes met the deadly eyes once more.
He opened his beak to let his sorrow and grief echo in Hadrian’s aching soul.
He opened his beak to let hope and reassurance bloom in Hadrian’s heart.
Then Fawkes’ ethereal flame enveloped him and Draco and his song was lost to it.
It was a blazing inferno, blinding and all-consuming.
Yet, Hadrian could feel no heat, no pain was coming from his hands which still laid upon Draco’s still form; his form to which his soul still clung to.
Hadrian could hear his blood rushing through his ears, could see the blazing flames even with his eyes shut tight.
One second, Hadrian hoped Fawkes would take him with him, even while he feared he would go blind. The next second — it was over.
As quick as it had started, the burning flames of the phoenix had vanished and Fawkes along with them, leaving them in the darkness of what had once been Hogwarts.
Movement underneath his hands had Hadrian open his eyes instantly. And, blinking against the spots dancing in his vision, Hadrian saw Draco looking up at him. A fire burnt deep within his soul, while the visible representation of their bond on his chest glowed lowly.
Hadrian’s heart grew warm with the same warmth he could feel emanating from Draco.
He reached out with his magic, unable to believe what his eyes were telling him. His hesitance was for naught, as Hadrian could feel Life inside of his bonded; inside of his beating heart and breathing lungs.
Not wasting another second, he threw his arms around Draco and maybe teared up a little when familiar arms wound themselves around his torso, holding him tight.
Why is phoenix lore so enduring? You might ask. “It’s because of renewal, it’s hope for rebirth. I think it deals with hope.” [1]