The Grand Hall was alive with the hum of conversation, the clinking of goblets, and the occasional burst of laughter as the students gathered for dinner. The enchanted ceiling reflected the stormy skies outside, thick clouds roiling ominously, mirroring the chill of the winter winds that swayed the barren trees. Yet inside, the warmth of the glowing braziers and enchanted brass pipes provided a cozy reprieve.
Godric's crimson eyes were fixed on the five ornate hourglasses embedded in the far wall, their cascading crystals glinting in the soft light. Each hourglass reflected a house's color, the shimmering crystals trickling downward to signify their accumulated points. He absentmindedly scraped his fork over his half-eaten steak, the juices mingling with the buttery mashed potatoes on his plate.
"Unbelievable," he muttered, catching the attention of his friends. "Look at that—all those points, and somehow, Aecor is still in the lead." His brow furrowed deeply. "How are they racking up so many points so quickly? It doesn't make sense."
"Tell me about it," Salazar said dryly, spearing a piece of grilled chicken with his fork. "I've long suspected they've got a professor locked up somewhere, being coerced into awarding them points under duress. It's the only plausible explanation."
Rowena glanced up from her book, one brow arching as she took a measured bite of her sandwich. "Or," she said with an air of exasperation, "it could simply be that Aecor excels in academics and extracurricular activities. Plenty of their points come from Dungeon Delving, after all. They're known for it."
Helga, working her way through two turkey legs at once, chimed in between bites. "Especially Lyza," she said. "She's with the Dungeon Delvers, one of the Congregation's more famous clans. And yeah, it's no surprise she's Professor Workner's favorite student."
"Lyza…" Godric mused, leaning back in his chair. "That name sounds familiar. I think I heard it mentioned during my first visit to the Congregation."
"The Dungeon Delvers are rising stars," Salazar said with a smirk. "Right up there with the Hounds of Cu and a few others. They've built their reputation on dungeon exploration and treasure hunting. Some clans, though, prefer notoriety over achievement." His smirk twisted. "Take the Calishans, for instance."
At the mention of the name, Godric's expression darkened, his jaw tightening slightly.
"Can we refrain from discussing Congregation business at the table?" Rowena snapped, closing her book with a sharp thud. "I find the whole thing insufferable. Honestly, I couldn't care less about Excalibur's so-called traditions, especially one so barbaric."
Salazar leaned back, his emerald eyes gleaming with amusement. "Like it or not, Rowena, the Congregation is woven into the very fabric of Excalibur. You'd have better luck trying to rearrange the stars than sever the connection."
"That doesn't mean we have to give it attention or validation," Rowena retorted sharply. Her tone was icy, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of frustration. "Some traditions are better left buried in the past where they belong."
Helga, oblivious to the tension, reached for another helping of mashed potatoes. "Well, forgotten or not, it doesn't look like the Congregation's going anywhere." She shrugged. "Might as well accept it—at least until someone figures out how to shake things up."
"Perhaps," Salazar said smoothly, his smirk returning, "but revolutions rarely begin at the dinner table, don't they?"
"Well, all that hubbub aside," Rowena said, turning her gaze to Godric with a curious tilt of her head. "Tell me, Godric, how much do you actually know about the Five Houses? Other than Ignis, of course."
Godric blinked, caught off guard by the question. He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile creeping onto his face. "Uh, well… not much, I'm afraid. I know Ignis pretty well, obviously. But the others? Just the basics—that they each represent one of the Five Heroes, who also happen to be the Five Founders of Excalibur." He paused, frowning thoughtfully. "Bits and pieces I've heard in passing or read in texts, but honestly… nothing too in-depth."
"Oh, it's so much more fascinating than that, Godric!" Helga exclaimed, nearly bouncing in her seat as she shoveled a spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth. "Each house embodies a part of the founders' legacy, you see!" she said, her words muffled by the food in her mouth.
"Helga…" Rowena sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Swallow before you speak, please." She turned back to Godric with a small smile. "But she's right, in essence. Take Ventus, for example—my house. It embodies the values of Shin Hati: knowledge, wisdom, freedom, and curiosity. Students of Ventus are known for their loyalty and intellectual pursuits."
"While my house, Ferrum," Salazar interjected smoothly, his tone carrying a confident edge, "represents the iron-clad, indestructible ambitions of Broughston Ashorc." A smirk curled at the corner of his lips. "A fitting legacy for me, wouldn't you agree?"
"And at Terra," Helga chimed in, puffing out her chest with pride, her amber eyes gleaming, "we stand for being immovable, enduring, and strong. Just like Aura Stormbreaker!" Her enthusiasm was contagious, though her tone held an unyielding strength, befitting her house.
"And then, of course, there's your house, Ignis," Rowena added thoughtfully, tapping her chin as her eyes rested on Godric. "It represents courage, passion, and unrelenting desire—the very best qualities of King Uther Pendragon himself."
"But what about the fifth house, Aecor?" Godric inquired, his crimson eyes flicking to the table where its members sat. "I assume it was founded by Gil-galad, the elven hero?"
"Ah, our darling friends over at Aecor," Salazar said, glancing toward Nerida and her companions at their table. Nerida caught his gaze and responded with an icy scowl, her friends following suit with equally disdainful expressions. Salazar smirked, clearly unfazed. "Well, they're calm, mysterious, and known for their adaptability… most of the time, anyway."
Rowena, ever the voice of reason, took a measured sip from her goblet of orange juice. "But it's not just about virtues, you know," she said, her tone thoughtful. "Each house embodies its strengths, yes, but also its flaws. Take Ventus, for example." She set the goblet down gently. "We might grow arrogant in our abilities, thinking we know everything."
Helga and Salazar exchanged amused looks, struggling to stifle their snickers. Rowena's sharp glare cut through their mirth like a well-aimed hex, and both coughed to cover their laughter.
"And for us in Ferrum," Salazar said, crossing his arms and leaning back with a relaxed smirk, "our ambitions can be our undoing. Though, I'd argue it's a risk worth taking."
Helga grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. "Well, us Terra folk can be a bit… stubborn." Her cheeks flushed slightly. "And, okay, maybe we hold grudges. Like, serious grudges. The kind that could rival a dwarf. And let me tell you, dwarves are pros at holding onto grudges—even across lifetimes."
"Hence The Dammaz Kron," Salazar added, his smirk widening. "Better known as Terra's legendary Great Book of Grudges."
"That's a myth!" Helga snapped, her amber eyes narrowing. "And for the record, I've never seen it myself."
"Just because you haven't seen it, doesn't mean it isn't real," Salazar retorted, his tone laced with mockery. "Honestly, I wouldn't put it past you Terra folk to have something as gloriously petty as a whole book dedicated to grudges."
Helga scowled at him, opening her mouth to retort, but Rowena interjected with a wave of her hand. "Enough, you two," she said firmly, her tone laced with mild exasperation. "Let's get back on topic, shall we?"
She turned her thoughtful gaze to Godric. "As for Ignis," she continued, "there's a flame within you all. A passion and drive that can be awe-inspiring. But that same flame…" She hesitated for a moment before pressing on. "It can burn too brightly. If left unchecked, it can consume not only yourselves but everyone around you."
"And our adaptable friends?" Salazar's gaze flicked back to the Aecor table, where Nerida and her companions sat. "They pride themselves on being able to navigate the deepest, most treacherous waters. But even they can drown in their overconfidence."
Rowena nodded thoughtfully; her expression calm yet contemplative. "Every strength comes with a price, Godric," she said softly, her blue eyes meeting his. "These lessons aren't just warnings—they're reminders. Like the Five Heroes, we are all mortal, and we are not immune to our own weaknesses. Acknowledging that duality—our strengths and our flaws—is what shapes us. It's what makes us stronger. It's what makes us human."
Godric's expression softened as he absorbed her words, a flicker of understanding glinting in his crimson eyes. He nodded slowly. "I see now. These are lessons worth remembering," he said. "Thank you for sharing them."
As the conversation dwindled, Godric leaned back slightly, glancing around the hall. The once-bustling space was gradually quieting, the crowd thinning as students began to drift out in pairs or small groups. The enchanted ceiling above had shifted. The earlier clouds had vanished, revealing an expanse of deep, velvety black adorned with countless twinkling lights.
"I should be going…" Godric said, pushing back from the table and rising to his feet. His crimson eyes softened as he smiled at his friends. "I told Raine I'd meet her back at the dorm."
Helga waved enthusiastically, her face lighting up. "Goodnight, Godric! Oh, and tell Raine we said hi!"
He chuckled warmly. "I will, Helga. Goodnight, everyone. Sleep well."
"Goodnight, Godric," Rowena said, accompanied by a warm smile that reached her eyes.
Beside her, Salazar gave a slight nod, lifting his goblet with effortless grace. His gaze flickered with quiet acknowledgment as he murmured, "Rest well, Gryffindor."
As Godric stepped out of the Grand Hall, the lively warmth and lingering laughter of dinner gradually faded behind him, replaced by the cool stillness of Excalibur's ancient stone corridors. The lamps lining the hallways shone brightly, their enchanted light casting soft, flickering shadows. The chill of winter seeped in through the towering windows, and his breath puffed faintly before him.
Making his way up the Grand Staircase, Godric's footsteps echoed faintly in the quiet. He walked slowly, his hand absently brushing the polished banister as his thoughts turned inward. "A flame that burns too brightly," he murmured to himself, Rowena's earlier words lingering in his mind.
His gaze drifted upward to the high vaulted ceilings of the staircase. His mind wandered, reflecting on how far he had come in just a few short months. He thought of his humble beginnings in the English Moors, the naïve, wide-eyed boy who had arrived at Excalibur Castle with little more than his sword and an unshakable determination to prove himself.
Now, he was a wizard in training, navigating a world of magic, mystery, and challenge. More than that, he thought of Raine—the love of his life. A warm smile tugged at his lips as he thought of her, her laughter, her strength, her resilience. The way her golden eyes lit up when she saw him, and how she had become the steady flame that guided him through the unknown.
"I've come a long way," he muttered to himself. "But there's still so much to do… so much to fight for."
His steps quickened slightly as he approached the hallway leading to the Ignis dorms, eager to see her, to hold her, and to share the comfort of the quiet night together.
"Well, I better hurry… Raine's probably waiting for me."
****
As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of amber and violet, Salazar, Rowena, and Helga emerged from the castle's orangery. Their robes were smudged with dirt, and their faces flushed with exertion. Despite the weariness in their steps, they exchanged weary but satisfied glances, glad to have completed another grueling day. Each pulled their scarves tighter against the biting chill, the dampness of sweat on their clothes making the cold all the more unforgiving.
"Those Venomous Tentacula were downright impossible today," Rowena muttered, brushing stubborn leaves from the midnight-blue streaks in her black hair. Her sapphire eyes darted around the courtyard, a hint of unease flickering within them. "Say, has anyone seen Godric? It's not like him to skip classes, even if he's sometimes fashionably late."
Helga's brow furrowed, her lips pursing as she twirled a strand of her shoulder-length brown hair streaked with amber highlights. "You don't think…" She hesitated, biting her bottom lip. "You don't think something's happened to him, do you? Or worse—what if he's found new company because he got tired of my jokes?"
Salazar tucked his hands into the pockets of his robes, his emerald eyes narrowing as he cast a sharp glance at the towering silhouette of Excalibur Castle. His usual aloofness gave way to a rare intensity. "I hate to admit it," he began, "but I've been having a terrible feeling all day. It's as if the walls of Excalibur itself are whispering words of unease."
Before any of them could reply, a figure burst into view, sprinting across the courtyard with frantic energy. The sound of pounding boots echoed sharply against the stone, catching their full attention.
Godric skidded to a halt before them, his crimson eyes wide with panic as he struggled to catch his breath. His hands rested on his knees as he gasped, desperation etched into his features.
"Raine…" he choked out, his voice trembling. "She's… she's gone! I can't find her anywhere!"
"Calm yourself, Godric. Breathe," Rowena said firmly, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. Her sapphire eyes searched his face, concern etched into her features. "Perhaps she's just busy with her chores. Have you checked—"
"I thought the same thing when she didn't come last night!" Godric interrupted, shaking his head vehemently. His crimson eyes burned with frustration and fear. "I've searched everywhere. I've asked everyone! No one's seen her." His hands clenched into fists, his teeth gritting. "Something's wrong… it's not like her to just vanish without a trace."
Salazar tapped his chin, his emerald eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Have you spoken to Sophia?" he asked. "If anyone knows where Raine might be, it's her."
"I was just on my way to the Slave Quarters," Godric replied. "I have to find her!"
"I'm coming with you," Salazar said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He turned to the girls. "Rowena, Helga, go find Professors Serfence and Workner. Something's afoul, and we may be in need of their assistance."
Helga's amber eyes lit up with an odd mix of excitement and worry. "Ooh, this is just like one of my mystery novels!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together as if the gravity of the situation hadn't quite hit her yet.
"Helga, please, this is serious" Rowena snapped, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the castle. "Come on, we need to hurry." Her voice was clipped, her usual composure cracking slightly under the weight of the unknown. "You boys stay safe."
As the girls hurried off, Godric and Salazar exchanged a grim, determined look. No words were needed. The weight of the moment hung between them, unspoken yet deeply understood. With a silent nod, they broke into a sprint toward the Slave Quarters, their breaths visible in the icy evening air.
"What if…" Godric began, glancing anxiously at Salazar as they ran. "What if something's happened to her, Salazar? What if—"
"Then we'll face it together, dear friend!" Salazar interrupted, his tone steady and resolute. His emerald eyes locked ahead, sharp and unwavering. "Now save your breath, Gryffindor. Less talking, more running."
Godric clenched his fists, pushing himself to run faster.
Salazar glanced briefly at his companion. "We'll find her, Godric. You have my word!"