A sword. Godric's fingers tightened around the hilt, skin pressing against the cold soil frozen likes sheets of ice to the metal. And yet it still gleamed. Beneath the dirt and the rust the stubborn spiders it gleamed. Beautiful. He had never seen a sword quite like this. Of course, he was not one to be knowledgeable in the craftsmanship of swords, but he had his common sense. This sword… this sword was fine. Skillful work had been devoted to it. Very skillfull. If he could only…

No. His hands unclenched, and the sword almost hovered in his palms, rubies winking out. This was madness. Who would bury a sword… on this land? His father's kin wouldn't be so foolish as to that. To them, a weapon was a piece of art, not to be used, only admired. And certainly not hidden in the earth. So why had it been placed here?

And why had Jonas known of it? Unless…

His father's?

Using the base of his palm, he wiped the dirt away from the blade. It couldn't be. Though Godric admitted to having never really known the man. Though he supposed… he supposed Muggles could have glories of their own. Like this.

His father. Immediately the thought of Salazar dug its way back in, but he shut his mind against it. No. Salazar was the closest thing to a brother he had ever had. Would ever have.

Think of him.

Godric froze. The sword nearly fell, rolling until it clung only to his fingertips.

Think of him, yes. Think of him. It's best this way. A thought, almost a voice, and growing louder with each word.

Something rustled in the trees nearby. Godric whirled, his fingers itching to use the sword. But no. That was foolish. Very foolish. It was just someone. One of the children playing. Or perhaps not even that, nothing but a little animal. Harmless. Incapable of speech.

There were footsteps behind him, soft and broken by the grass. "Think of him. Think of him and you will be the hero. The one to prevent evil. You have the sword."

Godric turned.

A shape. No, not even a shape. Red mist, like fire through rain. The top of it matched his height, but none of it touched the grounded.

Someone screamed.

Latiya?

The flame continued. It had no mouth. How could it speak? "I know he is your brother. I am perfectly aware of that."

Godric's heart twisted. A spell. It had to be someone's spell. This couldn't exist. "Be gone."

It laughed. Laughter rang from it, rolling and twisting it's flaming body. "You wouldn't know. You couldn't possibly know."

The sword found its way to his hand, hilt against flesh, tight and willing. He swung, the blade gleaming in the air as soil continued to fall away in frozen, earthy chunks. "Be gone!" He couldn't dispel it. He knew how. Why couldn't he dispel it?

The metal sliced through the flame, which gave way momentarily like scattered smoke. "A Muggle sword? You feel a Muggle sword can hurt me? The foolish ones who would burn you, chase you out, replace you with their own gods and thoughts of magic? I do this for their benefit."

Godric almost fell forward, the sword like an anvil in his hands. What was this thing talking about? "Who are you? Who sent you?"

"You call my masters the Fighters, and that's what they do. Fight for the future, for our world and our people. They will not let it be destroyed. They will not let further evil come into this world. And that is why you must kill your friend."

Salazar. He didn't hate Salazar. Why would he hate him? "And why?"

"Because the evil will come through him. If he dies now, the centuries will pass as they should. It will hurt, and that is understandable. But it will be best. And this sword…" The thing laughed again. "They say this sword will be enough. A Muggle weapon. I think not. They have their seers, but their seers are mad."

Godric panted, willing himself to lift up the sword. It wouldn't work, he wasn't stupid.

"Kill him. Kill him and be the hero of the world. Of both our kind and… Muggles."

"Salazar did nothing."

"Sometimes innocents will die. But it is best this way. He was cursed at birth. No fault of his own. But it is best he die."

Godric closed his eyes. What was this? Why couldn't he think of a spell to chase it away? "I don't…"

"One more thing." The flame almost bounced, shimmering the air. "The school."

"The school?" How could this… thing… possibly know about that?

"You know of what I speek. Do not build it. This was is much easier. Much."

The spell. Godric finally thought of it. But by then, the flame spell was gone.

The sword dropped from his hands to the ground, striking with a metallic thud. Kill Salazar. No. He could never do that.

Jonas and Terminus… they had both mentioned this. Suddenly he was furious. Why was none of this to be made clear to him? He searched the grounds around him, all through the green and brown, green and brown endlessly. Someone was out there, someone had sent that.

"Ricky!" A small figure tore from the bushes and wrapped itself around his legs, tears running down its face. It took him a moment to realize it was Latiya. She stared up at him, wide eyes and terrified. "I… was watching in the bushes. I didn't think it would be bad. Please don't tell my mama!"

She had seen the whole thing? The scream. Without even thinking, he laughed. "You…"

"Please don't be mad at me. Or Helga. Helga was just comforting me."

"Helga?" Godric's eyes turned. "Helga, are you there?"

Nothing for a moment, and then the blonde girl stepped shyly into view. "Ricky, what was that thing?"

He sighed, hating the thing all over again. "I couldn't send it away. If I had known you two were there…"

"We shouldn't have watched." Her voice was clear, full of remorse. "Forgive me. But Salazar… it mentioned him. It's not what Terminus told us, is it?"

"I… I don't know."

"You can't kill him. You can't." Her hand found its way to his arm.

"I know that."

"Do you?"

She was so strong that way. Why did she have such strength? Give her the right temperament, and she could just drive in whatever guilt she so desired. He couldn't give her that reason.

He took a deep breath. It was hard to breathe. "I promise you. You know me better than that."

She smiled, the corners of her mouth chasing everything away. "I know that."

Latiya gave an interrupting little gasp. "Are you gonna kiss?"

Helga burst into giggles. "I forgot she was here."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"He is of marrying age, Rose."

Rose refused to look at Jonas. "I know that. But he…"

"He's still your baby." Jonas laughed. "Women. You all think alike. But that isn't what troubles you, is it?"

He was approaching her, from the back. He hadn't become the most silent of walkers in his old age.

"Jonas, I refuse to play your little game. He and Helga… I'm his mother, I can tell it."

"But things are starting to happen. It's all catching up. Your vision."

She sighed. That hellish vision. Why had she ever told him of it? "They found out yesterday. I don't know what came over me. I told them everything."

"I know that." His hands twisted, just out of the corner of her eye, twisting and rubbing the air until… no, she was mad. Jonas was a squib, always would be. Then the hands stilled, then reached into the pocket of his robe. "You're not too old for candy, are you?"

She laughed and pushed the offering away. "You cannot bribe me. Jonas, I can't force that upon them."

"It's to save her. We've discussed this. You saw what might happen to her."

Fury rose up in her, spreading to her mouth, and she whirled on her uncle. "Then how do you know this choice will change that? Perhaps that would only be forcing it into existence!"

Jonas stared back at her, calm as stone. "You hurt, don't you?"

Hurt. Did he know anything of it? She pressed her fingers against her eyes, feeling the salty tears. "Jonas, I still see her. Soaked, drowning, bleeding. Helga cannot die. She's too sweet a girl."

"Then do this."

He was right. Somewhere in her stubborn heart she knew that. Perhaps she should humor him. "All right, then. Godric will be betrothed immediately. How furious to his relatives. And exactly who do you suggest?"

"Your brother's unorthadox wedding with Heather turned out remarkably well. Perhaps we should keep in the blood."

Rose's heart went cold. "Who—"

Jonas smiled. "It will work fine. Betroth the boy to Rowena Ravenclaw."