[Completed]
An alchemist who poisoned himself, an assassin who stabbed his own heart, an arsonist who burned herself, and a hero who couldn't defeat his inner monster.
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( A re-enact of Hades...
•❅─────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅• 38 - The Last of Merlin
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Crystalline air slicing through Fawkes's plume, it spiked up from shivers, his wings expanded broadly; ruby red and sunset hues feathers were displayed. Behind the beast, antique bookshelves arranged parallel to the wall, allowing the centuries-old dust invaded the air with blotched ink scent. His beak motioned to follow a man with bright honey eyes stood before him in amusement. The brunet tucked his hands on his pocket fidgetting on a vial inside it. He was dressed in charcoal grey three-piece suits, auburn curls brushed back to appear professional.
Footstalls echoed in the room and a voice came, "Your fascination to beasts never fades since you attended this school, Mr. Zygo. Silvanus always remarked your great interest during dinner." the praise boomed in the room and Alphard tore his gaze to meet the wizard he was looking for. Stood a few feet before him was Albus Dumbledore, peering behind his half-moon spectacles. "Pardon me, have I made you wait too long?"
"Professor," Alphard greeted, tucking his hands behind his back then nodded politely. It was apparent from his aura that the Merlin's heir was raised in such elegance and mannerism that only a pureblood family could have. Dumbledore beamed at his presence, then Alphard shook his head, "I believe, even if you did I was too busy making a friend."
Alphard grinned from ear to ear, darting his eyes to the phoenix. Dumbledore gave a polite nod as he beckoned to a vacant seat across the room. The two wizards were marching to the appointed seat, when Albus began, "I believe you have an urgent reason to miss your New Year's evening. Eventful night I'm guessing?" his blue eyes peered down to the trace of mud on the young man's Italian shoes. Alphard snapped his fingers and transfigured his shoes to polished bright. "Certainly, so important that you gave me a last minutes notice."
"Rather than important, Professor, I prefer this one come as personal." The Chief Warlock pulled the corner of his chair as Albus sat on the headmaster seat. He surveyed the dusty table that irked his cleanliness habit, though he pushed the urge to tap the desk clean as he dug his fingers to his pocket. He took out a vial, and Dumbledore's eyes trailed to follow the glistening silvery-blue strain inside the vial.
A memory.
Albus pulled his eyebrows together, perplexed as he glanced back to Alpha. "Personal?" he queried, Alphard slid the vial to his table. "I'm not sure what of Chief Warlock like you would want me to do?"
"A favor, Professor." declared Alphard, his voice almost sounded as if he was strangled. The man shifted in his seat, fingers fidgetting on his sleeve's anxiously. Receiving a curious stare from Dumbledore he went on with, "A secret that will be profitable for the war."
