The Founders Four

The Return

It was early morning and the sun had only just started to rise, its golden-pink tinge blossoming across a pale sky. It was pleasantly warm, a slight breeze in the air, which signalled that spring would soon become summer. Many seasons had come and gone and many things had changed, some for the better and some not so much.

The only moving thing within this tranquil scene, apart from the swaying blades of tall grass, was a rider sitting astride his stallion, a stallion that shone like a beacon when compared to the neutral colours of their surroundings. He was pure white, except for a few grey patches upon his back.

The man urging him on across these moors was a well-built one, his muscular arms hanging on tightly to the reins. He had a handsome face, a little stubble around his jaw line, and his hair, which had once been much shorter, now reached just past his shoulders, gleaming with a mixture of brown and gold as the sun caught it. He stopped his horse for a moment, surveying the scene with sparkling blue eyes. He smiled to himself, remembering the direction he was to take.

*

"Morning, Hubert!"

"Oh, hello, Helga!" He smiled, having been in the middle of crafting one of his many inventions.

He sat amongst all the junk he'd accumulated over the years in a little sheltered area just past the Dumbledore's cottage. He always loved to come here and create, it was his passion. Not only did he dabble at Mortal arts, such as metalwork and carpentry, but he also knew his fair share of bizarre little spells. Helga loved to watch him creating. He was so intricate, so infatuated with the process of making something amazing, that he'd be gone for days at a time, drawing up new plans for his inventions and ideas. True, most of them never worked or were a little too ambitious to start with, but his intentions were good.

Alexis Dumbledore had always encouraged creativity in Hubert but did try and get him to do things other than inventing all the time. Helga saw her point but Alexis was prone to the odd bit of experimentation too. She was the most skilled witch Helga had ever met when it came to potion-making. Not only could she brew every one of them written down in her potions book perfectly but she had also whipped up a few concoctions of her own over the years, all of which worked very effectively. Being a whiz with the cauldron in this way also meant that she was an excellent cook.

Yes, Helga had lived many happy years with the Dumbledore's. She had now grown into a fine young witch, reminding herself very much of her mother with her curvaceous form and sparkling smile. She had been taught all this knowledge in potions, becoming almost as good as Alexis herself, who showed pride at Helga's quick learning. Alexis had also taught her a lot of charms, this being the only magic she could perform well.

It had been five long years since she'd last seen any of her childhood friends and, though she was happy here, she could not ignore the heartache that their absence left.

"What are you making?" Helga asked interestedly, leaning against the chipped and scratched workbench to get a better look.

"Well, I don't quite know yet," Hubert admitted, scratching his chin in thought. "I might call it a...a...deproxilator!"

"And what does it do?" She asked, suppressing a laugh as she saw his expression.

"I'm still trying to figure that out," he said, throwing her a sideways smile.

She stared in puzzlement at the creation that lay before him. Its main section seemed to have been created from an old copper bowl of his mother's and he seemed to have melted down a number of strips of metal that were attached all around the edges. She smiled in amusement as he tapped it with a long forefinger a number of times, muttering to himself as he did so.

"Need to...indirect magic," he was saying, causing Helga to frown. He stared into space for a moment, his jaw hanging open slightly. "I've got it!" He cried suddenly, pushing his invention swiftly aside and unravelling a long scroll of parchment, which kept trying to roll itself back up whenever he tried to scribble on it.

"You've found out what it can be used for?" Helga asked excitedly.

"Oh...no," he said distractedly, his brow creased and his tongue perched between his teeth in concentration as his quill scrawled feverishly away upon the parchment. "This is something completely different.

Helga never actually learnt much from Hubert, as in how to create some new and spectacular thing, because he was such a private person. Whilst he'd talk animatedly about ideas he had he'd never do so when the initial idea came to him. After outbursts about things he believed would benefit the magical world, he'd wander off and start inventing, remaining silent and in deep thought for days on end. He never gave away how he actually created his inventions but sometimes Helga really wished he would.

"Helga!" She was torn from her thoughts as Alexis shouted her from inside the cottage. "Could you dig me up a few hemlocks? I need them for later." Helga immediately obeyed, making her way round to the little garden at the side of the cottage, which Alexis would use to grow all means of strange and wonderful plant life. "And soup will be ready in about an hour!"

She picked up the little garden tools and began to prize these bizarre plants from their comfy beds of soil. They proved very stubborn to want to leave the ground but she'd soon made a small pile. She sat debating whether or not she had enough when a tall figure cast its shadow over the little garden.

"Hello, Helga."

She dropped the little digging tool she'd been using in shock, sure she'd heard wrong. She didn't turn around immediately, fearing that her ears were deceiving her. Eventually, she did, feeling her heart soar so fast that she feared it might fly straight from her throat.

"Godric!"

She flung herself towards him and felt his strong arms embrace her in a hug she'd missed very much. She breathed in the strong scent of leather and pine trees from him.

"I've missed you so much!" She gasped.

"Hey!" He chuckled, wiping away tears that had started to trickle down her cheeks. "Why are you crying?"

"I don't know," she admitted, laughing weakly.

"You have no idea how I've longed for this day," he told her, his eyes twinkling as he smiled down at her.

Now that Helga could get a proper look at the boy she considered her brother she realised just how much he'd changed. In fact, he was no longer a boy but a man. He was dressed lavishly, indicating that he'd most probably been spending time in wealthy company. He wore strong leather boots, nothing like the ones she'd seen the villagers wear, and he wore a thick tunic, an emblem of some sort visible on the chest. He reminded Helga of a knight more than anything with the sword he had attached to the strong belt her wore. For a moment she paused, wondering why he had this. She didn't have time to ask, though, because Alexis suddenly came bustling outside.

"Godric? That can't be you?" She asked in shock, staring up at his handsome face.

"I'm afraid so," he smiled.

"Oh, it's wonderful to see you back on our shores!" She beamed, placing a hand fondly upon his cheek. "Do come inside, soup's ready!" She insisted, leaving him no chance to argue as she turned around again. "Hubert? Hubert!" She called. "Oh...where's he got to?"

Helga led Godric inside the little cottage as Alexis began to serve up their lunch.

"I hope I'm not imposing?" He said awkwardly, shrugging off his luxurious cloak and hanging it up on the hook near the door.

"Of course not. Sit yourself down, lad!"

He did so, staring around the little building, taking in everything he saw with an unreadable smile. Helga watched him, feeling a strange buzz inside of her. She knew he was still the old Godric, even through the layers of beautifully tailored clothes he wore, but he just seemed different somehow; she couldn't quite explain it. It was almost as though she'd lost her old friend to a world of wealth and learning. Even as he flashed her a warm smile she felt a pang of sadness, wondering how long he was going to stick around.

"Here we are!" Alexis smiled, placing bowls of steaming soup before them, which smelt delicious. After this came a freshly-baked loaf of bread, which she'd sliced into equal portions for them. "Hubert!" She shouted suddenly, the volume of her voice making Godric jump in surprise. "Oh, what's he up to now?" She muttered, sitting herself down at the little wooden table with the others.

"Oh...wow," Godric said, his mouth full of food. "This is delicious!"

"Why, thank you," she smiled. "Helga's concoction, in fact. Took my old recipe and spruced it up a bit. She's a dab hand when it comes to anything entering a cauldron!" She chuckled.

"You've been learning the art of potions?" He asked her interestedly.

"Yes," she replied, feeling unexplainably shy around him.

"She can make almost every one in the book!" Alexis told him, beaming fondly at her.

"Helga, that's great!" He smiled. "I'm proud of you."

"What about you?" She asked. "What have you been learning?"

"All sorts," he said, raising his eyebrows as he thought of all these types of magic. "So many spells. I never knew that many existed!" He exclaimed, laughing slightly. "Coen fought with my father in a few wars and battles apparently," he explained. "So he developed all these defensive spells to protect himself. He's a great knight, taught me everything he knows. He also taught me how to fight normally too," he added. "With swords, you know."

"That sounds amazing," Helga smiled, feeling slightly downcast.

Compared to what Godric had learnt over the past few years, Helga's teachings didn't compare. It overshadowed her by a long shot and she felt Godric would see her as obsolete now that he had all his fancy spells. She rather envied him.

"It was!" He grinned.

"And what of your family?" Alexis asked, as she filled a goblet up with mead for him.

After taking a rather large gulp he paused, looking uncomfortable.

"As you know, my mother and father have been dead for many years," he explained, maintaining a brave expression, even though all he felt was emptiness. "But, according to Coen, no other family remain alive. My mother and father had no siblings and when the king and queen died not so long ago the king's cousin took the rights to the throne, as I don't technically exist," he said bitterly, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, my dear boy. I'm so sorry," Alexis murmured, patting him gently on the shoulder.

"My...er...my father left me something, though," he managed to say, his voice shaking. "Wrote me a note before I was born saying he hoped I would grow up into the brave and courageous man he could never be. He left me gold...gold he'd hidden away from the king so that he couldn't get his hands on it. Coen had kept it safe for me all these years."

"That's wonderful, Godric," Alexis smiled. "I suppose you'll buy lands with it, the things you've never had?"

"No," he replied defiantly. "I'll be saving it, for when I really need it."

Helga respected him for this; she always hated how some people changed when they were given money, flashing it around and thinking it could get them anything and everything. She knew Godric was better than this.

"But I must thank Lord Schreiver!" He said suddenly. "If it wasn't for what he'd told me, what he'd arranged with Coen, I would never have discovered my past or become so skilled at magic."

Helga and Alexis exchanged sombre looks.

"What?" He demanded, seeing their expressions. "What is it?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Alexis breathed. "He died a few months after your departure."

"Oh no," he murmured, feeling dazed. The last time he'd seen Lord Schreiver he knew he hadn't exactly been at his best but had expected him to pull through. He had always been a fighter and to hear this dreadful news was a great shock.

"He was buried up near the castle," Alexis explained.

"I'd very much like to go and pay my respects."

"Helga can take you there in the morning."

*

Dull, half-hearted sunlight streamed into the little cottage, some creeping through the beams in the little room Godric had stayed in for the night. Alexis had made Hubert give up his bed for their guest and he now slept on the floor, muttering about oak trees. Godric watched him for a moment, smiling in amusement.

He'd been awake for hours, unable to sleep after the news he'd been given. He loved being awake when everyone else slept. It almost felt like the world was his own, so still, so silent. After deciding he might as well go downstairs to see if Helga and Alexis were up, he pulled on his boots and carefully stepped over Hubert, who was now having an argument with persons unknown.

"Oh, you're up!"

He jumped at Helga's voice as he stepped down from the last rickety step.

"Are you hungry?" She asked. "I could make you whatever you like, I - "

"No," he said quickly, the thought of food making him feel nauseas. "No thank you, Helga," he said, forcing a smile.

"Oh...okay, if you're sure," she said awkwardly. "Do you want to see him now?"

Godric stared at her, knowing that she knew something of what he felt. He smiled at this, glad to be back in her company. He nodded.

"Come on then," she smiled back, grabbing her cloak.

Godric followed her lead and they walked out into the pleasantly cool morning air.

"Helga, what happened to the others?" He asked suddenly, as they made their way along the dirt track that led away from the house.

"Don't worry," she assured him. "Your friend Polly was taken in by a nice family down the lane, the others were taken in by other families around these parts and the workers all found other jobs."

"Oh, that's good," he smiled. "And what of the castle?"

"Derelict," she said sadly. "The lords of England got their share, all they could anyway," she added, looking disgusted. "No respect."

"So there's nothing left inside?"

"Not that I know of," she shrugged. "Many of the servants spoke of a will but no one's sure Lord Schreiver made one."

Godric felt bad for the old man. He could just picture all those scavengers raiding the castle and trying to take anything that wasn't fastened down. He glanced across at Helga, who wore a strange expression. Was it one of shyness?

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yes," she smiled, a little unconvincingly in Godric's opinion.

"Helga," he said seriously, stopping half way down the main road that led through the village. "What's wrong?" She looked away, not answering him. "Is it because I went away?"

"No!" She said quickly. "I'm glad you found your roots. I'm glad you've become a great wizard!" She paused, taking a deep breath, as though debating whether or not to say what was on her mind. "I just...I feel that I'm not good enough to be your friend," she muttered, looking determinedly at her feet.

"What?" Godric stared in utter bewilderment. "That's insane! Helga, you're the best friend I have and always will be," he laughed, placing a strong hand upon her shoulder. "Is it because we've learnt different types of magic?" He asked knowingly. "Look, I think no less of you because I know more spells. I think being able to brew potions is essential and I'm hopeless at it!"

Helga looked up and smiled at the look on his face, laughing slightly. This made her feel better somewhat.

"You'll always be brilliant...and you know it!" He added.

For the rest of the journey up to the castle the tension evaporated. Before they knew it they were walking through the gates, one of which was hanging precariously off its hinges. They made it up the winding hill and descended towards the great mass of water that lay not too far from the towering castle.

"He's buried over here," Helga said quietly.

They silently made their way over to a dry patch of grass a little way from the embankment that overlooked the water. No headstone could be seen but, as Helga stopped, Godric assumed this was the place. She stood back from him, allowing him privacy whilst paying his respects.

Slowly, Godric bent down, brushing the prickly grass with his fingertips. He could just picture the last time he'd seen him and remembered how frail he'd looked. He didn't know why he was so shocked at the news of Lord Schreiver's death but it was something he'd have to come to terms with now. He was just so grateful for everything he'd done for him, even when he'd been on his death bed.

"Thank you," Godric whispered.

He rose to his full height once more and glanced over his shoulder at the castle. A great wave of sadness washed over him. He knew this castle would never see a happy person within its walls again, knew its stables would never be used, its grounds bare and deserted...they would be neglected, left to grow wildly.

"Are you ready?" Helga asked quietly.

"Yes," he replied after a long silence, in which he stared at the expanse of trees surrounding the lands. "Let's go."