𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐒𝐄𝐒.
Eris Achlys believed nothing could save her. She was another puppet waiting to be mastered. A witch crafted from Hades' hands and cast to Tartarus, doomed for all eternity to fail. A talented girl born purely to be used...
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October of 1976
Hogwarts, Scotland
⋆ 。° ⋆ ━━━━━━━ ⋆ 。° ⋆
Eris Achlys knew she would die at a young age. Perhaps it was a premonition or the seers her mother had sought after her brother disappeared, but Eris always felt that she had not long left in her. The cavity in her heart only grew, draining away her life expectancy.
Her mother had always warned her of the cost of age. Complained unmercifully about the problems of wrinkles and how her legs ached so often. She complained how alcohol no longer numbed her body, it just went down the same as water. Complained that as age came, girls like Eris would not be pretty.
So perhaps that's why Eris had always found herself more inclined to be in her father's presence over that shell of a woman. Do not be mistaken, her father was no saint - no Achlys ever was. He was a trying man, a man who overworked himself to escape the troubles and headaches he'd face when home with his family. It was rare that Eris ever crossed paths with him once a month. But when they did, she found his silence toward her much more soothing than her mother's. Sometimes, they'd sit together as Eris read Greek poetry and he'd read the daily prophet.
From a young age, Greek mythology struck her as a fascination. It had been a tradition in the family for generations to be passed down a name of Greek descent. She'd been fascinated by the tales of Icarus and the sun, Hades and his Persephone. Studying them as her father stoked the fire in the cold room, the moonlight illuminating the pages, became a cherished moment for her.
Those once-a-month meetings the two had vanished with the disappearance of her brother. Her brother had destroyed so much of her life.
Adonis Achlys. The Revenant. Voldemort's right-hand man. If Eris and her sins made her a demon, he was Lucifer in the flesh.
He'd been a scholar throughout his Hogwarts years, intelligence prioritized over all else. He was beautiful, as all Achlys' were, but his mind soon became a necessary asset for Voldemort's reign. How he'd become so involved in the mass genocides the group committed, Eris remained unsure. She could only remember that once her third year hit, each time she'd cross paths with him, he seemed to be darker. His eye bags grew tenfold, his shoulders sagged, and he was thinner. But yet, his mind and tongue are still sharper than ever. He'd grown meaner, lashing out at her anytime he could. They'd never been the closest (no one in her family ever seemed to be able to tolerate each other), but he'd never shown her anything but kindness. Now, she'd begin to see the side of him that all muggle-borns seemed to. Adonis Achlys became dark and depleted, the cavity in his chest, spreading through this bloodstream, soon to hit his mind.
