The ring
Chapter 2
My passage is open, like no man's land.
I like a fish to the deep, the leaves to the root, all the naked eye can see me.
- Inscription
He took off his cloak and changed into a strange red robe that irritated Muggle eyes. None of his friends recognized him as Godric Gryffindor, except for his bright red hair and striking face.
He walked in silence, following the flow of people.
'I'm sorry! A child pushed his way through the crowd in a panic and bumped into him, jumping up like a rat at night at the sight of a cat, and darting away like the wind. The boy was shabby and thin, probably a hungry little beggar.
Godric continued on his way without pausing.
"My purse? Where's my purse? !"
A Muggle not far in front of him patted the sides of his trousers, which were flat.
"Hullo! Are you going to buy it or not? Get out if you have no money and get out of my business!"
The owner of a small stall in the street held a scale in his hand, and a tray piled with one or two catties of grain.
Unconvinced, the unlucky Muggle who had lost the money reached into his pocket and felt for it. Sure enough.
His jubilant face was grey.
"Say it! Is it you?" The Muggle's yellow eyes fell on Godric in his Muggle attire, roaring at him like a ravenous beast.
"No." The red-headed man's hands were open and empty.
The Muggle's eyes were red, and an equally coarse body, wrapped in sackcloth, trembled.
"No! It's you! It must be you! You're a thief! Give me back my purse! Give me back my purse! I worked so hard to get here!"
As he spoke, he put his hands over his face and wept. A hand with a blister the size of a bean clutched firmly and recklessly, like a slightly thicker branch, blocked Godric's way.
Godric's mind flashed quickly to the figure of the little beggar, with his flushed face, as if he had done something wrong, and his arm, which he would not let go of, seemed to have something hidden in it.
He may be the real thief. Ask him. But there was so much noise around that the child was like a drop of water in the sea, and could not be found.
Tinker Bell...
The Muggle man stood still, several sleek, round coins in his coal-gray hands. He turned stiffly, and the red-haired man's windswept coat disappeared into the throng.
"Eh? Are you sure? Really? Seeing a weird redhead? Green eyes?"
"Yes, Lord Ryder! Before I knew it, the guy suddenly came up behind me out of nowhere! And stole my purse! ' The Muggle man was still terrified in front of a fine horse, clad in shining silver armor, his brown eyes fixed on the waving Muggle, who was still holding the strange creature's coin in his hand. The man flinched under the menacing scrutiny of the armed knight commander.
The rider looked away, waved his big hand, and sat down. The black horse neighed.
"A suspect was witnessed doing evil in the sacred territory of the Lord. For the safety of the people, soldiers, lock down the town! Knights, listen! Arrest this man!"
The cavalcade of knights belonging to this curia was thundered away. A full-scale search of the town must be carried out, with the cooperation of all households, in order to capture the alleged pagan opposition to the Lord.
Du-du-tu... Doors were knocked open and confused civilians poked their heads out.
Boom, boom... Doors were kicked open, and the children inside cried amid a rummaging noise.
A young knight, nearly eighteen, dismounted and clenched his fingers against the thin wooden door of a hut.
"Is anyone there?"
After a while, the room was very quiet.
"No one? "Muttered the young knight, turning and riding away.
When the sound of hooves outside dissipated with the wind, a figure strode past. A knight who had come to search for him passed by him, missing him in the opposite direction. Godric was now in no man's land. All the noise seemed to be behind him.
The knights gathered at dusk.
Some people go home empty-handed, some people get something.
They know exactly what they have gained and what they have lost.
Across a town, across a river, across a meadow. As Godric Gryffindor wrapped himself in the protective cloak of night, like diesel drips on red-hot charcoal, a single light appeared across the field, growing larger and larger.
'Who? A long, sharp spear had pierced Godric's neck, and in the blink of an eye it lay almost against the skin.
The bright light hanging in the air illuminated the face of the visitor.
"A few days, and you don't remember me so soon?" The green pupil glowed in the bright firelight and smiled.
"Lord Gryffindor! Sorry, rude." The torch-bearer was dressed in light red armor and bent over his chest with one arm.
It's late, but you can keep the lights on all night.
Children dressed in clean clothes, meat toot toot small hands hold their parents' hands.
He stopped, pointed to a roadside stall and said excitedly: "Mommy, Daddy! I'll eat that!"
The scent of the food that was floating there, wafted by the wind, into the child's nose.
"All right, all right, glutton, all right." His parents stroked the child's red face with a smile.
The joy on a child's face at this moment is their greatest happiness.
People in the night market eat, drink and laugh. They were flanked by knights and soldiers who patrolled and monitored the order, loyal to the Pope.
Everything is going on in good order.
"Hello."
"Hello!
Godric nodded to the men who greeted him one by one. Escorted by the knight who had found him, he walked slowly to his abode in the land.