Chapter Three: Reactions and Stories

Number four Privet Drive

November 1st 1994

The sun was shining through his window as Dudley Dursley of Number Four Privet Drive opened his eyes for the day. With a yawn, the young blonde pushed himself up and rubbed his knuckles against his eyes to get the remaining sleep out. Taking a look at his nightstand though, he froze, last night was Halloween. He frowned as he looked at the black frame and the picture inside of it, the picture in question showing a blonde baby several months old in a crib, they were giggling as the three year old boy with black hair tickled the baby's feet. His cousin died last night all those years ago. Picking up the photo he looked at the black haired boy in it, he took in the messy black hair and emerald eyes that were laughing as the boy tickled his feet. He wondered what his cousin would have been like if he was still alive. Would he play rugby? Teach Dudley how to talk to girls? Would he be proud of him? A tear dropped onto the frame at this thought, quickly wiping down the frame, Dudley put it back.

"Morning Harry." He stood up and grabbed some clothes for the day. He was home for the day as Smeltings was out on a minor holliday. In other words the teachers needed a break from all the students. Heading downstairs he passed walls of photos that all contained a blond boy with a red headed girl next to him.

"Even as babies, you two were inseparable." Mom told the two of them. Iris may not have been born into the Dursley household but she was his baby sister in all but blood. Dad would tell stories of when they got a second crib for Iris and tried to move her out of their shared crib that Dudley had hollered and cried and screamed, only silencing when Iris was placed back in. Passing the walls of photos, Dudley entered the kitchen. Mom was dressed, powdered, and curled for the day as she sat at the table rubbing at her temples with her eyes clamped shut. Dad was at the stove, sliding an egg on top of a slice of toast before adding some herbs. It was Halloween last night after all, while most kids would be out with parents trick or treating, Mom and Dad would stay home. Mom would cry, the wine would flow, Dad would be attentive and ready with tissues.

Stepping over to the kettle, Dudley poured a cup before bringing it to his Mom. passing her the cup with a good morning kiss, he sat and they waited. It wasn't post they were waiting for but it was a letter. Every year the family would receive a letter from Iris on the first of November. And it would always be bad.

"So there was this troll….. Slytherin's Chamber opening….. Serial killer loose ..."

He knew Dad wanted to pull her from Hogwarts, but he knew they couldn't, but this year was different, a tournament being held, one that was known to kill off the champions selected. Iris was going to be selected, he didn't know how, but he knew.

"Potter Luck Duds." That's what she would say.

A flutter of wings caused everyone in the room to freeze. A tap at the window caused a weight to form in Dudley's stomach as he looked towards the window, and to Hedwig sitting regally on the sill. Heart beating like a hummingbird, he watched his mom stand and open the window, passing Hedwig a slice of bacon the owl stuck out her leg. His Mom took the letter and returned to the table. Placing the letter in the center they waited until Dad took his seat as they looked at the letter. It was almost laughing at them, here they were, afraid of a piece of paper.

"So I've been entered... I'm screwed …. Might need to make funeral plans …." Dudley reached out and took the letter. He opened it and gazed at his baby sister's cursive that graced the page.

"Hello everyone, so before you panic and start going into a fit I would like to say that we are alright." He was panicking now. "So the champions were picked last night, Victor Krum from Durmstrang, Fleur Delacore from Beauxbatons, and Cedric Diggory from Hogwarts." Dudley let out a sigh of relief.

"She wasn't chosen." A weight was lifted from his parents shoulders at that.

"But…" He was panicking again. "A fourth Champion was picked." He was really panicking now. "The Goblet summoned them, can you believe it. Unfortunately the champion in question was in a fight. Several Aurors were killed by his enemy, the guy was insane Duds. But the Champion and his friend killed the nut-job. Duds, you won't believe who it was." Dudley's heart stopped as he read the name. It couldn't be, he was dead, he was looking at his picture just a bit ago.

"Dudley?" It was Dad, he sounded worried but Dudley couldn't focus. The letter was taken out of his hands.

"WHAT THE HELL!" His father roared after a few moments. "How?"

"How what Vernon?"

"Harry's alive." There was silence then a rustle of paper, Dudley didn't see as he was still looking at his hands where the letter was, but his head shot up as he heard a mournful cry from his mother. His mother was crying and holding onto father tightly, the letter crinkled in her clutch before falling to the floor. Picking up the letter, Dudley went to where he left off.

"Duds, you won't believe who it was. It was Harry. I don't know how he's alive but he is. He's a knight apparently, and he wields a sword that can start on fire. I'm so happy Duds I keep switching from tears of joy to tears of sadness. There is something else though, he mentioned a place called The Ringed City and Anor Londo, he was at these places for apparently centuries! I don't know how he got there, if Tommy boy sent him there that night but apparently Harry is in a freaking picture book in the Wizarding World. A fairy tale that was written a couple years back. I owl-ordered the book for you, mom, and dad to go through. I don't know how many of these stories are true Duds but I'm afraid… I'm afraid I'll lose him again." Dudley had to wipe away a tear from his eyes as he finished reading.

"I'll make sure he survives, and I'll bring him home. Love all of you! Iris."

Dudley looked at the letter once more before folding it up. He stepped over to his parents.

"Iris says she'll bring Harry home, I believe her. She is sending over a book that explains where he was, we should try to get some information first." He hated how cold he felt, but he knew Iris needed him to be calm.

Malfoy Manor

Same Time

Snakes, laughter, silver masks. Lucius' eyes shot open, his arm throbbing again. He looked over to Cissa and froze, she was gone. She was gone she was gone shewasgone shewasgoneshewasgone…. He rolled off the bed and flicked his wrist, his wand ejecting from its sheath as he approached the door and placed his ear. No sound.

"Dippy." The house elf popped into the room wrapped in a tea towel with the Malfoy crest of twin peacocks on it.

"Master calls Dippy sir?" Lucius raised his hand, the elf quieting.

"Is Cissa in the manor?" Dippy nodded, he understood what was going on. "Are there any others in the manor?" Dippy shook his head. "Where is she?"

"Downstairs sir." Lucius nodded as he cracked open the door and slipped out. Sneaking through his ancestral home, he flinched at every shadow that looked like a set of long robes and raised his wand at anything silver. Creeping downstairs he made his way to Cissa. She had to be okay she had to be okay shehadtobeokayshehadtobeokay…

"Luc…"

"BOMBARDA!" on instinct Lucius yelled out the curse as Cissa dived out of the way. The doorway exploded behind her from his curse. He shot at his wife… he shot at his wife…. No no no nononononononononono…

"Lucius." Cissa? "Lucius." Someone had him wrapped up, they'll hurt her they'll… "LUCIUS!" Lucius looked around. He was sitting on the floor and leaning against a wall, Cissa had her hands on his shoulders, grey eyes looking into his blues as he wept. Two taps on his shoulder. Safe, no enemies.

"I…. I'm…. Cissa…"

"I'm here Lucius. It's okay, I'm okay." Narcissa held her husband close and hoped her goodfather was burning in the deepest pits of Tartarus for what he did to her husband. And that…. That… WANKER of a Dark Lord was getting the Edward the Second treatment in whatever corner of hell he was in. Lucius' mind was never the same after that night. He didn't like to talk about it. She could still feel the point of her own wand in Abraxas Malfoy's wrinkled hand as it was digging into her pregnant belly while a battered Lucius knelt before Him. She was a Black. She was a Malfoy. And in that moment she was WEAK! And the worst part was that Lucius blamed himself for it. She knew the mark still affected him, other friends who were convinced to join confirmed this as well. It took their judgement, influenced their mind. It made here husband, a loving father, plant a fucking horcrux on a child and release a baselisk in Hogwarts. She held Lucius close again before picking up his wand and slipping it into her robes. He didn't complain, two more taps to the shoulder got him up off the floor and to the dining hall. Now all she had to do was make sure he didn't lock himself away again as a form of self exile.

Leading her husband into the dining room they took their seats as Dippy brought out breakfast. A flap of wings caused them to look at the door where Verus flew in, Draco's owl taking a perch by her seat and sticking out a leg.

"Thank you Verus." The owl bobbed it's head as Narcissa passed a treat over to it. Opening the letter Narcissa froze.

"Father, Mother, I write to you to let you know I am okay and alive, slightly shaken up from the events of Halloween night but unharmed. The champions were chosen as you will read in the Prophet, but a fourth champion was selected. It is not Iris, thank Hecate." Narcissa smiled at that. Her son and the Potter Heiress had been dancing around each other since day one. The Granger girl seemed to have the right idea when she told Narcissa to "Lock them in a closet until they confess their feelings or hex each other." Continuing to read the letter, she felt the smile slide from her face.

"Harry Potter was selected as the fourth champion and was summoned through the Goblet of Fire. He wasn't summoned alone though, two others were summoned along with him. The first was Princess Filianore. Yes mother, that Filianore. The other one was in the midst of a rampage and killed several Aurors. I want to reiterate, I am okay, we are okay. The individual, who was revealed to be Slave-Knight Gael, was slain by Sir Harry Potter otherwise known as the Ring Lord! I am not jesting with you! This is what happened. Iris and I, along with the others, will be investigating. We need the two of you to help us, mainly because we believe Minister Fudge and Senior Undersecretary Umbridge will cause problems, we need help, Ron is currently writing to Sir and Dame Weasley. Your loving son, Draco, Heir of House Malfoy."

"Cissa?" She looked up to see Lucius before smiling.

"Now dear, don't panic." She knew he would panic.

Ottery Saint Catchpole, The Burrow

Mornings were always filled with wild shouts and hollering. But since Ginny had left they were quiet as a mouse. Molly woke to the sun shining and her alarm silent and unringing. Arthur was always doing things like this when he felt she needed some extra sleep. Pushing herself off the bed, Molly dressed for the day and went downstairs to see Arthur at the stove, several pans floating as sausage and eggs cooked.

"Morning love." A glass of Pumpkin juice floated over to her, Molly smiled as she took the glass and a sip from it.

"The post just arrived." He tossed a piece of sausage to Pidwigeon, Ron's owl who was perched on her youngest son's chair. The owl gobbled it up and ruffled its feathers. "I didn't have a chance to look at it yet, the eggs were about to burn."

"I'll take a look." Molly picked up the letter, opened it, read it, and screamed. There were very few times she had lost control of her magic. The flare causing dishes and cutlery to fly. Racing out to the family room she looked at the clock, no one was in mortal peril or harmed.

"Molly?" She looked back to see Arthur, eggs all over his sweater, worry in his eyes. "What's wrong?" Molly held up the letter sent by Ron and Ginny.

"Dear Mum and Dad, please don't send any howlers or blow the roof off the house, you will panic but we are alright. We are not harmed in any way, shape, or form, check the clock if you don't believe us. In short the Goblet didn't pick Iris like everyone thought it would. It picked Harry. Yes, that Harry. Harry Bloody Potter is alive, he has been alive, he was in Anor Londo and the Ringed City. We know that the neighbors in the woods are the ones who wrote those books. Luna is sending a letter to her dad, and Draco to his parents, Dad I know about the feud but we need to work with the Malfoys, Draco is writing to them. Several Aurors are dead because Harry just so happened to be fighting an insane version of Slave-Knight Gael when he appeared. Also Princess Filianore is here as well. The Prophet will most likely have stopped the press because of what happened, we need you to get in contact with Mr. Lovegood about the neighbors and meet up with the Malfoys, they will be trying to stop Fudge and Umbridge from mucking everything up again. With love, Ron and Ginny. P.S. Please send some of your fudge, we ran out and it might make a nice gift for Harry."

Molly looked to Arthur as he read the letter. She knew about the feud and its origin, how it cost House Weasley almost all their lands, titles, and fortunes, everything gone except a small plot of land and their status as a Knightly House. Everything else was gifted to House Malfoy as restitution. Her youngest son and daughter befriending the Malfoy Scion was almost unthinkable because of this and yet it happened.

"I'll clean up and head to the ministry." Arthur turned and went back to the kitchen as Molly went to speak with Xenophilius Lovegood.

Ottery Saint Catchpole, The Rookery

Xenophlilius or Xeno Lovegood woke to shining sunlight and the sight of wrackspurts dancing through the air.

"What a curious dream. But most likely not a dream, right Pandora?" Silence answered him from the other side of the bed, empty as it had been for years now. "Yes dear, I'm fully aware that dreams are messages. No I am not being sarcastic dear." He stepped out of bed and pulled a bright blue tunic embroidered with owls along with yellow trousers before stepping out of his room. Making his way downstairs he tapped a corner of the stairway wall with his foot causing the hidden compartment to open. Reaching in he pulled out a letter with the date on it in his daughter's handwriting. His sweet little Luna was so skilled in her gift that she could see years into the future, the proud father would even go so far as to say his daughter's gift was limitless, over the summer she would write out a letter for every day she was at school, on the condition that he wouldn't read ahead of course. Heading over to the table, Xeno was distracted by a tapping at the kitchen window. Waving his wand, the window opened as a Prophet owl flew in and dropped the new issue of that infernal rag before him before flying out. Luna must have ordered it, something important definitely happened. Pushing the rag to the side, Xeno pulled out his daughter's letter and with a crack of the radish red wax, pulled out his daughter's latest letter out and began to read.

"Good morning Daddy, mama knows you aren't being sarcastic. One of the neighbors will be at the house later with breakfast, please give them a jar of honey. Also make sure that they end up with the edition of The Prophet that I had sent you, I will tell you why. Harry Potter has returned. He returned from a world of fire and ash with the lady of light and time. She's very pretty, and he seems very protective of her. Also the Heliopaths are going to be mobilizing after the Slave-Knight killed several aurors. The Ring Lord killed him, the battle was quite loud. Mama did seem angry at me for rushing in to wake the Ring Lord. I saw mama again, she had her huge hat on, do you think she'll let me wear it? Don't drink your herbal tea this morning though, it will make your tummy do flip flops." Xeno pushed away his tea cup after that, it was a good thing he didn't drink it yet. "The neighbors will be arriving after you finish this daddy, have a good day. Love Luna."

There was a knock at the door.

"Xeno? Are you there? I picked up some bacon and rashers." Xenophilius smiled, he could feel Pandora smiling as well.

"Come on in." He called out.

Ottery Saint Catchpole road.

A little bit later

The figure walked down the small dirt path away from the Rookery, Xenophilius was doing better today but he or one of the others would be visiting again later. He passed through the bushes, still following the dirt path. His crimson cloak was dampened with dew from the nearby bushes as he stepped into the forest, the satchel at his side bopping his hip, emptied of the latest material for Xeno, and filled with payment, letters, and a jar of honey. Flann took a deep breath in as the flame god adjusted his brown vest and stepped through the fog into the small valley before him. The small valley containing a wooden longhouse in the center painted with silver and gold and carved with a mixture of Lordran and Norse Runes, surrounding it were several smaller houses in a norse style as well. Gleann Rithe, this was their sanctuary, this was their home. The sun was up and shining through the trees and reflecting off the small river nearby.

Flann took a deep breath of dewy air and stepped down the hill into the valley below, approaching the village the Flame God heard the clashing of steel. Turning over to the training ring, Flann noticed three figures. The first was a young man with long black hair that curled to his shoulders in ebony locks and finely chiseled features, his silver eyes glowing bright. He was twisting and spinning, oddly nimble for his slim frame considering the greatsword he was wielding as he was clad in dark blue and silver. Opposing him was another man with a dark red mane of hair that was cut close to his scalp, he had the beginnings of a beard growing that would most likely be shaved off the first chance it's bearer could get. Clad in yellow and red, the figure narrowed his emerald and yellow eyes before he twirled his spear as he leapt back into the fray. The third figure at first glance could be called fat. Granted he was, he was a very large man. His pitch black hair was cut low to about his ears and it was greasy in appearance, as usual. His dull blue eyes were small and sunken into a pockmarked face as he thumbed his warhammer in preparation for the sparring match. Looking up at Flann, he smiled and waved at the flame god, Flann waving back as he continued onward.

The house before him was wonderful, it was small, only two bedrooms, a kitchen that doubled as a solar, and a bathroom. The house itself was worn and starting to lean to the side a bit due to his poor construction skills. There was no paint and a sun motif wind chime that was starting to rust hung off the roof over the porch. But it was still wonderful because it was theirs. Flann smiled as he stepped up to the door and cracked it open, slipping inside he toed off his boots and saw them. His girls.

The first had her back to him in her form fitting white and yellow cotton dress, so different from the silks she wore back in Anor Londo. There was a clanking of metal as she typed at the keys before her while she bit at a quill, her reddish brown hair hung loose down her back, almost coming to her hips as it curled in soft waves. Gwynevere the only woman he would ever love. The other girl was seated at the scratched up table, kicking her legs back and forth on her chair in her white cotton dress. Her tail, coated in silky fur, was curled around and draping to the floor. Her hair, spun like moonlight, was tied into a loose braid that draped down to the small of her back. Her emerald eyes set in a face covered with alabaster skin that made his heart melt. He was not her sire, but woe to the fool who would say Priscilla wasn't his daughter. Her silver spines that served as eyebrows were furrowed as she painted over the parchment before her.

"Hello my ladies." Brush stopped moving, keys halted over typewriter. Priscilla looked up first and let out a massive smile showing off her sharp fangs.

"Papa, your back!" Priscilla hopped out of her chair and charged towards Flann, wrapping her skinny arms around his legs she burrowed into him. He smiled as he took in the goddess that was turning in her chair and standing.

Porcelain pale skin, golden eyes that glowed a soft yellow like a sun and ruby red lips that when she smiled caused Flann to forget about everyone else. Compared to the other gods of Anor Londo, he was barely a minor god, and yet Gwynevere loved him. He thanked the flame, the sun, even the Pygmy, the one they never spoke of.

"Hello love." Gwynevere smiled as she stepped over, the dress she wore hugging her waist as she stepped towards him. Taking Pricilla she cooed at their daughter before stepping to the table followed by Flann.

"I stopped by Xeno, Gwen I'm worried about him." Gwynevere frowned. He understood why, when the four of them arrived in this new world after fleeing Lordran it was Xeno and Pandora who helped them find a home, it was Xeno who let them use his press to print their fist books for no cost. They still repaid in full. And when Pandora died it was Xeno who still made sure they were okay. So all of them kept an eye on him and Luna in turn.

"Flann what happened?" The flame god reached into his satchel and pulled out their mail, payment, the honey jar, which gained Pricilla's attention immediately, and the issue of The Daily Prophet.

"He told me that we were supposed to read this, and all of us would have to read this." Xeno never bought the Prophet.

"A propaganda tool and a gossip rag, not even good to wipe your…. Bottom with it." He made that comment while Luna was playing with a baby Pricilla in the next room. They never bought the Prophet, Xeno never bought the Prophet.

"He also said Luna was the one who sent it, it was a part of her visions apparently." When the four of them had first arrived they never told anyone what they were. So when the little wisp of a blond came up and asked.

"Did Farros really have Ornstein dance with Gwyndolin?" They were shocked. Luna knew everything about them. And after Pandora died her visions of Lordran became stronger.

"Gwyn seems rude, I don't understand why everyone looked so highly towards him."

"If… if Luna says we should read, let's read." Flann took the issue of the Prophet and unfolded it. Only for the two of them to freeze at the headline

HARRY POTTER LIVES!

By Rita Skeeter

Yes witches and wizards you read that correctly, Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Died is not dead, but alive. During the champions selection for the triwizard tournament last night the champions for Durmstrang (Heir Victor Krum) Beuxbatons (Heiress Fleur Delacour) and Hogwarts (Heir Cedric Diggory) were selected. See image one through three.

However the Goblet of Fire flared one more time and expelled Mr. Potter's name to the shock of everyone. After confessing via magical oath from the infamous Weasley twins that they were not behind the names appearance, the Goblet then summoned Mr Potter and two others. See image four. Unfortunately Mr. Potter was in the middle of a duel with one of the others he was summoned with. This maniac proceeded to cut down over ten Aurors while under fire from a mixture of stunners, cutters, and blasting curses along with other spells and it only seemed to anger him. Mr Potter and his friend were revived and just when the red clad monster was about to slay young Iris Potter, Mr. Potter bravely stepped forward and cut the madman down. It was only after where this reporter began to go through the names of the three who were summoned. For Mr Potter was referred to as the Ring Lord, while the woman who fought alongside him was called Princess Filianore, on top of that they referred to the last man cutting down our brave Aurors as Slave-Knight Gael. See image five through seven.

Why would these individuals take the names of Gwenevere White's characters from her children's book Legends of Lordran. And the more adult novel series Age of Fire? Whatever and why they would bear these names, this reporter plans to find out. And if these individuals do bear a connection to Lordran (Fictional it may be.) then could someone else have come through? After all, the translation of Gwyn is White. Stay tuned for any and all updates on the Triwizard tournament and on any possible connection between Mr. Potter and the possibly not so fictional land of Lordran.

Gwynevere was frozen at the last three images, so was Flann. After all they were images of their friends, Harry standing tall with his burning sword. Filianore, lightning bolt hefted, an image that caused Gwen to cry as she gazed upon her baby sister. And Gael but he was… wrong, his body twisted and hunched, his equipment torn and shattered, the GIANT hole in his chest. The three of them standing there were causing Gwynevere to weep as Flann took her in his arms.

A ringing sound broke them from their concentration, one that could be heard throughout their village. And it was coming from the Longhouse.

"I'll get Pricilla. You get the paper." Flann said as he picked up their daughter and Gwynevere rolled up the issue of the Prophet and they began to make their way to the longhouse.

Approaching the front, Flann saw one of the individuals that were sparring earlier approach the three of them.

"There you are." Artorias began as he smiled, his silver eyes shining. Pricilla began to squirm in Flann's arms as he set her down, the small child racing up to the wolf knight who rubbed her hair. "Have either of you seen Ciaran and Gough? They went fishing."

"How could you not see Gough? He's literally a giant."

"He's sneaky… seriously though, have you seen them?"

"Ciaran should be fine Artorias." Gwynevere's reassurance came with her smile.

"I know, it's just… well…"

"Ciaran's pregnant, not an invalid." Flann began.

"She would also castrate you for insinuating that, I mean it's not like you sent Sif after her." Gwynevere added only for Artorias to look nervous.

"You sent Sif, did you?" Flann's question was dry.

"I… yeah." Artorias' shoulders slumped in defeat.

"You are not staying with me again Artorias." A gruff voice from behind. The four of them turned to see the remaining two sparring partners approaching. "You snore horribly." Ornstein added as he planted his spear in the ground.

"I could hear it all the way from my home." Smough's thick timber added as he rested the head of his hammer down, pulling out a rag, the former executioner wiped down his face.

"If all of you are done gossiping like Fina's courtesans, then get inside and take your seats." The voice was sharp, aristocratic, and it drew everyone's attention. Lady Velka stood in the doorway, a midnight black dress clothed the Goddess of Sin with her rapier at her side, along with her mantle of crow feathers. Her inky black hair hung to her mid-back while her near pitch black eyes narrowed at them. The group nodded as they entered the longhouse, Velka at their back. The firepit in the center of the room was roaring bright as Farros was using a poker to push the logs around. The God of War was clad in his usual blue and yellow trim shirt with a pair of trousers that were made of denim. His storm grey and blue hair hung low, and framed a noble face with eyes a golden yellow like the lightning bolts he wielded. The leader of their small group, he strode over to the longtable and the chairs that surrounded it. Over at the table was Havel wearing a mix of grey and brown work clothes, the bishop's black hair trimmed close to his head as his piercing blue gaze drifted over a map, which he picked up and folded as the others entered.

Several platters covered the table as everyone would contribute to keep it full, far different from Anor Londo. Plates were at their spots as Flann looked over the five empty chairs, two were for Ciaran and Gough, both absent for fishing. And three for their lost friends. Flann cleared his throat and passed the meat platter over to Priscilla, placing a cut of venison on her plate and watching her devour it, he looked over to Gwynevere and the two stood.

"Is something wrong you two?" Farros asked, the war god's booming timber like thunder as he looked up from his seat.

"We have news…" Flann began. "It comes from Xeno." Everyone froze, excluding Priscilla who was chewing her venison and kicking her feet back and forth.

"What's wrong? Is it Luna?" This was asked by Smough, the executioner had formed a friendship with the small waif of a child shortly after he and Ornstien had arrived. And woe to all who were cruel to her.

"Luna's fine, but she sent this." Gwynevere pulled out the copy of the Prophet and passed it around to the others. The group of former gods and warriors looking in horror at how Hadrien and Filianore were forced to kill Gael.

"Sir Hadrien lives… and the Princess is here as well." Havel looked over the paper as the door to the longhouse burst open, Ciaran riding in on Sif's back, the greatwolf lowering so she could slide off. Cradling the swell of her belly, the former Lord's blade glared at Artorias with sky blue eyes before flipping her ivory locks behind her shoulders.

"We need medical attention." Everyone looked at each other before shooting up from the table and running to the door, Gwynevere running to where they kept the med kit as outside was Gough. The giant was cradling a lean individual in his massive hands as he stepped forward. Lowering his hands he revealed a slim figure in soaked studded leathers and a red hood, a greatsword and shield on his back, his snow white beard was soaked and reaching his waist as he was placed on the ground. It was Gael. This was the man they remembered, not the creature in the paper. However, Flann looked closer and gasped at the amount of cuts on his old friend, and the stab wound.

"I'm here, who's…" Gwynevere froze as she saw Gael, nearly dropping the med kit. "I'll get to work. Artorias, can you assist me?" The two kneeled down and undid Gael's breastplate, pulling it off, Gwynevere began to cast her miracles and stitch up their friend, the Slave-Knight's breathing barely audible as she worked on healing him.

"What happened?" Flann looked over to see Artorias asking Gough and Ciaran.

"We were fishing in the river and he just… bobbed up from the water."

"Was it in the spot?"

"Yes."

Flann knew what the spot was, the river nearby is where they all appeared from, all of them bobbing up from the exact same spot, for Gael to be here he would have either needed to escape Lordran, as Flann, Gwynevere, Pricilla, Velka, and Farros did. Or he would have needed to die as the others did. But all of them came through the river, and none of them could return.

"We need to get Gael inside, we can ask what happened when he wakes up." Havel said as the bishop picked up their smaller companion and went back to the longhouse, Gwynevere following close behind.

"Flann." The fire god looked over to Farros, the former god of war had a worried look upon his face as he watched them disappear inside. "Find Xeno, see if you can get access to the wizarding world."

"Hogsmead is the closest village Lord Farros, Xeno and I can head there. Or he can drop me off if he's too busy." Farros nodded.

"I'll join him." The two turned to see Velka and Ornstein approaching. "You need to send in more than one person Farros, we need to consider the possibility that something could go wrong."

"That Skeeter woman already called us out." Ornstein continued. "She knows about us, or is insinuating that the stories are not just stories." Farros pitched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Fine, but all three of you need to be careful. And if you get into a fight, then no killing. We don't need anymore attention brought to us." The group of three nodded and went to grab their gear. Farros turned back to the longhouse. "Gael you better pull through, and you better not have gone Hollow." The former god of war then made his way back inside.