Divided We Fall: Chapter III
Title: Divided We Fall
Rating: PG-13
Length: Chaptered, WIP
Pairings: Slight Godric/Helga and Salazar/Rowena
Era: Founders
Summary: Helga Hufflepuff cannot remove the remnants of the dream from her mind, and only a walk around Hogwarts’ grounds can - hopefully - make everything clearer. Her thoughts wander about, and perhaps a talk with a friend will help the blonde-haired woman.
~*~
Chapter III: Do You Believe in Dreams?
The same warm, autumn sun that shone its rays through the glass windows of the elegant and massive castle that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry also fell on the single figure that was currently strolling along the blue lake’s shore. Her small feet shuffled along in the dirt, occasionally kicking a little rock or pebble into the water and causing ripples to show on the lake’s surface. She had no set destination in mind when she had left her rooms in the castle to go outdoors. Rather, she allowed her mind to wander just as much as her body while she walked.
There was just something to be said about the simplicity of nature. So simple on the surface, so peaceful and relaxing, yet it had so much complexity underneath, so many things that depended on another. Nature was the perfect example of a team; if just one part failed in its purpose, the entire operation could easily fall apart. Yet at the same time, when one part fell behind, others increased in a desperate effort to keep the balance.
She could never see nature as failing.
At least, never ultimately failing.
And for the past several years, she had always thought the same of the friendship that she shared with the three other adults that usually dwelled with her just beyond the oak doors.
But after last night, Helga Hufflepuff was having doubts about that single - and previously so solid - belief.
Hence, her main reason for taking a simple, destination-less stroll through the school’s grounds.
Flashes of her dream concerning the two men she loved and treated like her brothers kept showing in her mind. She could see a spell fired from Salazar’s wand, and a curse shot from Godric’s. She would hear the taunts and angry words that issued from them both, and she could feel the hatred and disappointment that radiated off of them. Both had been in pain, and not just in the physical sense, either.
Helga had watched the ultimate destruction of a friendship, of a brotherhood, that she never thought would have failed.
And yet, neither Godric nor Salazar had ever shown any of these emotions towards each other.
The last time the kind witch had seen the two men together - several months ago, before Salazar had left on his latest journey - they were acting like the closest of brothers, compatriots in everything that occurred. Salazar’s nobility and stature would loosen up under the influence of the loud and wild Godric Gryffindor, while that same passionate man succeeded in many things with the help and guidance of his dark-haired friend. A better politician than Salazar Slytherin one would be hard-pressed to find in the Wizarding World, and his skill in the technicality of words and hidden clauses of governing laws had helped make Hogwarts the powerful and successful establishment that it had become.
As she walked, Helga surveyed the school’s grounds, her eyes taking in the sights of the rippling water in the lake, the swaying blades of darkening grass. Trees had their already colouring leaves starting to fall to the ground, the branches bending slightly in the wind. The stones that made up the elegant and strong castle altered in their shades of grey, from that of being as light as silver to that of being so dark, one could have almost mistaken it for black. Clear, sparkling glass covered the numerous windows, the sun’s rays gleaming off the surface, and large, oaken doors blocked the entrances of the structure.
And her mind wandered even more, remembering how such a beautiful castle had come to be what it was.
It had been a hope for the four of them, something that had been little more than a simple wish or dream - a basic, yet believed unreachable, longing - in the beginning. Never had the Wizarding World had such a central location for so many young members of their kind to learn to harness their gifts. Parents, families - and in many cases, complete strangers - had previously been responsible for teaching young magical children the ways of a wand.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had truly been a novel concept for its time. Surely, the critics claimed, it would not be possible to teach so many children at one time - and at so many ages and learning levels, too. Impossible, they stated. The idea would surely fail.
But neither Rowena and Helga, nor Godric and Salazar, had listened. Brilliant, their own teachers had called them while each had harnessed his or her own power. Yet, when it came to forming such a large Wizarding school, no one had believed they could do it. And had each tried to do it alone - or with just one of the others - those critics may have ended up being correct. Helga knew that.
She knew, as well as she knew anything, that Hogwarts only existed like it did because the four of them had worked and accomplished their goal together.
Rowena Ravenclaw’s intelligence was something that could never have been matched. Her ability to research and know the most unknown of facts - or where to find a particular fact, if she could not recite it immediately - was definitely one of the strongest reasons Hogwarts stood. The most ancient and nearly-forgotten of spells had been required to make the school what it would become, and only Rowena could have succeeded so well in discovering that knowledge and knowing how to put it to use.
Godric Gryffindor’s passion was an emotion also unrivalled by any other person - wizard, witch, or Muggle - ever to live (or so Helga felt). He was a powerful wizard, and intelligent in his own ways, of course, but it was his passion, his drive, his strength in beliefs and his desire to attempt the new and un-attempted that had been his strongest contribution to the creation of the school. Rowena would find the spells and regardless of however untested they may be, Godric would try them.
Salazar Slytherin’s cunning and ambition had been his strongest characteristics in the founding of such an establishment. The dark-haired, noble wizard would rarely jump into a situation unchecked, his depth of examination an exact opposite of Godric’s own ‘act-first-think-later’ personality. An understanding of their world’s laws and government, Salazar had in abundance. Rowena could research any law that she wished, and Salazar could discover its loopholes and unravel the fancy rambles to know exactly what was allowed and what was not within the law’s wording. Having been raised in the type of ancient, noble environment that he had, the knowledge seemed almost inherent in Salazar’s blood, it came so natural to the Parselmouth.
And Helga Hufflepuff … Well, if one had asked her, the blonde-haired, soft-spoken witch would have simply smiled, her kindness as clear as day to even a complete stranger, and say that the other three had been her friends, and that she could have done nothing else but help them.
The others, however, would say a little more. They would tell tales of her way with the children and their parents, once the school had progressed to such a length and it was time for searching out its future students. A natural ease, Helga gave to the people that she talked with; she was a person that one could not help but trust - the parents knew that she would care for their children, and the children knew that her presence would ease any homesickness they may have.
Her gifts with the natural plant life was nearly as unrivalled as Salazar’s in the Potions chambers, a fact that had been made clear so very long ago, when Helga Hufflepuff had been merely a small child. Whether it was a nearly dangerous magical plant or something as harmless as a simple wildflower, Helga’s magical touch was put to use, and it was with her help that the grounds of Hogwarts continued to maintain their magnificence.
Alone, none of them would have succeeded. Not even had there been only two or three of them attempting to achieve the goal would Hogwarts have grown to be the grand place that it currently was. No, Helga knew with certainty that Hogwarts had needed the entire quartet; it had needed Godric, Salazar, Rowena, and herself - not one, not two, not three, but four.
And surely, four it must remain, she thought, pausing in her walk along the lake’s shores and taking a seat against the cool bark of a nearby tree. She wiggled her feet from her shoes, freeing her body from its temporary constraints to feel the blades of grass between her toes. The images from her dream had slowly started to be pushed aside while Helga had allowed her mind to wander about the school’s past, but now they came back in full force, flashing in her mind’s eye as clear as if she was watching the fight play out in front of her once again.
She was so lost in her thoughts of the dream that Helga did not hear the large, heavy oak doors open. She did not hear the steps of the approaching figure, though the visitor made no effort to quiet their steps. She did not even notice that another stood next to her, the figure’s shadow falling over the pensive Helga, until her name was spoken and a hand was laid upon her shoulder, jerking her from her thoughts.
“Helga?”
Helga gave a slight jump, turning her head enough to see Rowena Ravenclaw standing over her. The other witch’s long, dark locks of hair fell down her back, the strands slightly curled in their loose and natural state. Blue eyes surveyed the sitting woman, a slight look of concern radiating from their depths as she stared at her friend. “Is everything alright?” she asked, not removing her pale hand from Helga’s shoulder.
A bit of silence fell over the two witches for a brief moment, Helga only giving a small nod as an answer to Rowena’s inquiry. Helga’s gaze soon returned to the lake’s shoreline, and the fair-skinned woman knew that the witch she viewed almost as a sister had not been fooled by her simple action. The shuffling sounds that came from footsteps and the swishing of clothing told Helga that Rowena was taking her own seat against the tree’s solid trunk.
“What is on your mind?”
Her gaze not leaving the water, Helga sighed before answering. “Rowena,” she started before pausing again, allowing silence to fall over the two witches for the second time that morning. It did not last long, however, before Helga continued. This time, though, she moved her eyes’ stare from the lake to meet the sapphire orbs of the woman next to her.
“Do you believe in dreams?” she whispered. “Do you believe that they have the power to foretell the future - and if so, is it such a future that is irreversible, a future that will occur no matter the actions of anyone? Do you believe, Rowena, that the most unlikely thing, if it was dreamed about in such a way, would happen - regardless of how impossible it seems?”
A simple smile graced the thick lips of the dark-haired beauty that had also been gifted enough to hold such immense intelligence. Helga watched the expression grow, and she knew, before Rowena had even opened her mouth to answer, that the other witch was about to dismiss her concerns.
“Helga, what is it that has you so concerned?” she wondered, slowly shaking her head. “A dream is just that - a dream. It is not real, Helga -”
But Helga was shaking her own head, the action sending her unrestrained blonde hair flying with the movement. “No, Rowena, I do not think such was the case this time,” she said. Upon seeing Rowena readying for a reply, Helga raised her hand, pleading silence from her friend. “You did not see what I did last night,” she whispered. “The dream was unlike any other; it was so very real, so vivid, that it could be nothing else but a foretelling of something to come -”
“What did you see, Helga?” interrupted Rowena. “What is it that you believe is being foretold?”
“That is just it, my friend,” the younger woman answered. “What I saw, it could not have been happening. There is surely no way that either of them will come to such odds, to come to a point where each is prepared and ready to kill the other …”
For the third time that morning, silence fell. Helga spent the quiet minutes taking her gaze around the grounds once again, their bright orbs staring upon the lake, the castle, the forest, the mountains - every bit of the nature that surrounded her. She could feel the intense curiosity coming off of Rowena as the other woman remained next to her; she knew that, while her gaze wandered, Rowena’s blue eyes remained locked on herself.
“You are referring to Salazar and Godric, are you not?”
Helga was not surprised by Rowena’s words; the intelligent witch was bound to have figured out the answer and implications soon. And as she nodded, confirming her friend’s statement, Helga continued.
“It was during the summer, I believe, or perhaps the spring,” she began, her voice low in volume, though the words were clearly heard. “The weather should have been peaceful and bright, but it was dark - storm clouds covered the sky, the light of the sun hidden behind their grey blankets. I do not know where they were - a field or valley or some-such place.
“But it was just the two of them; only Godric and Salazar were present. And the hatred that could be felt between them … Rowena, I have never felt or seen such dark emotions come from anyone as what I saw in them. Pure despise shone on their faces, my friend; both Salazar and Godric looked as if they had the desire to destroy and kill the other - and no remorse would have been felt had either been slain.
“They fought … and Rowena, I saw them both hurl such dark curses at each other and such insults flew from their lips! You, as I have, have seen both Godric and Salazar in battle; we have seen them fight against some of the darkest enemies of this world. But what I saw in that dream was unlike anything I had seen before. And then …”
Here, Helga paused in her story once again. A slight frown appeared on her youthful-looking face, her teeth biting her lip in their brief hesitancy. She knew Rowena’s interest was still on her words, her friend’s mind trying to dissect and understand every single piece of the story - seeking meaning and divining knowledge - while her gaze remained locked on the fair-haired witch. The fact that she had hesitated would be obvious to Rowena, but Helga did not know precisely how to relate the rest of the dream to Rowena.
For not even Helga quite understood what had happened in the rest of the dream.
“What happened?” The words barely registered in Helga’s mind, and though she still did not quite know how to finish the story, she continued to speak.
“Both of them fired a spell at the same time,” she whispered, her words coming slow, almost as if Helga was trying to figure out what she was saying as she spoke. “The light connected, but then, they disappeared. There was a flash of light, and Godric and Salazar were no longer there.
“There were two others in their place, though I did not recognise either of them, Rowena. I could only tell that one of them held a very slight resemblance to Salazar, but now that I think over it again, I suppose that could easily have been for no other reason than the fact that he was now standing in Salazar’s former position … I do not know.
“But they became surrounded by a - a cage of light, I suppose. And there was a beautiful sound that started - Oh, Rowena, the music was unlike anything you could have ever heard. Lovely and piercing, it felt as if it had the ability to warm the soul. Such power, such strength in the simple thing of music, I have never experienced. And it grew louder and louder, until it suddenly stopped -
“And I woke up.”
Once Helga had finished her tale, she returned her complete attention to Rowena’s face, awaiting the other witch’s response. She watched as Rowena’s face showed the visual signs of her thinking, working so many pieces of a puzzle around in her mind until - most of the time - she arrived at the perfect answer. There was the slight frown of her lips and the way that her eyes seemed to glaze over as if she entered a trance, both signs that Helga had seen many times throughout the years that she had known the witch.
“What do you believe, Rowena?” she asked. “Do you believe in dreams?”
~*~
That's the end of chapter three.
~Megan
Rating: PG-13
Length: Chaptered, WIP
Pairings: Slight Godric/Helga and Salazar/Rowena
Era: Founders
Summary: Helga Hufflepuff cannot remove the remnants of the dream from her mind, and only a walk around Hogwarts’ grounds can - hopefully - make everything clearer. Her thoughts wander about, and perhaps a talk with a friend will help the blonde-haired woman.
~*~
Chapter III: Do You Believe in Dreams?
The same warm, autumn sun that shone its rays through the glass windows of the elegant and massive castle that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry also fell on the single figure that was currently strolling along the blue lake’s shore. Her small feet shuffled along in the dirt, occasionally kicking a little rock or pebble into the water and causing ripples to show on the lake’s surface. She had no set destination in mind when she had left her rooms in the castle to go outdoors. Rather, she allowed her mind to wander just as much as her body while she walked.
There was just something to be said about the simplicity of nature. So simple on the surface, so peaceful and relaxing, yet it had so much complexity underneath, so many things that depended on another. Nature was the perfect example of a team; if just one part failed in its purpose, the entire operation could easily fall apart. Yet at the same time, when one part fell behind, others increased in a desperate effort to keep the balance.
She could never see nature as failing.
At least, never ultimately failing.
And for the past several years, she had always thought the same of the friendship that she shared with the three other adults that usually dwelled with her just beyond the oak doors.
But after last night, Helga Hufflepuff was having doubts about that single - and previously so solid - belief.
Hence, her main reason for taking a simple, destination-less stroll through the school’s grounds.
Flashes of her dream concerning the two men she loved and treated like her brothers kept showing in her mind. She could see a spell fired from Salazar’s wand, and a curse shot from Godric’s. She would hear the taunts and angry words that issued from them both, and she could feel the hatred and disappointment that radiated off of them. Both had been in pain, and not just in the physical sense, either.
Helga had watched the ultimate destruction of a friendship, of a brotherhood, that she never thought would have failed.
And yet, neither Godric nor Salazar had ever shown any of these emotions towards each other.
The last time the kind witch had seen the two men together - several months ago, before Salazar had left on his latest journey - they were acting like the closest of brothers, compatriots in everything that occurred. Salazar’s nobility and stature would loosen up under the influence of the loud and wild Godric Gryffindor, while that same passionate man succeeded in many things with the help and guidance of his dark-haired friend. A better politician than Salazar Slytherin one would be hard-pressed to find in the Wizarding World, and his skill in the technicality of words and hidden clauses of governing laws had helped make Hogwarts the powerful and successful establishment that it had become.
As she walked, Helga surveyed the school’s grounds, her eyes taking in the sights of the rippling water in the lake, the swaying blades of darkening grass. Trees had their already colouring leaves starting to fall to the ground, the branches bending slightly in the wind. The stones that made up the elegant and strong castle altered in their shades of grey, from that of being as light as silver to that of being so dark, one could have almost mistaken it for black. Clear, sparkling glass covered the numerous windows, the sun’s rays gleaming off the surface, and large, oaken doors blocked the entrances of the structure.
And her mind wandered even more, remembering how such a beautiful castle had come to be what it was.
It had been a hope for the four of them, something that had been little more than a simple wish or dream - a basic, yet believed unreachable, longing - in the beginning. Never had the Wizarding World had such a central location for so many young members of their kind to learn to harness their gifts. Parents, families - and in many cases, complete strangers - had previously been responsible for teaching young magical children the ways of a wand.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had truly been a novel concept for its time. Surely, the critics claimed, it would not be possible to teach so many children at one time - and at so many ages and learning levels, too. Impossible, they stated. The idea would surely fail.
But neither Rowena and Helga, nor Godric and Salazar, had listened. Brilliant, their own teachers had called them while each had harnessed his or her own power. Yet, when it came to forming such a large Wizarding school, no one had believed they could do it. And had each tried to do it alone - or with just one of the others - those critics may have ended up being correct. Helga knew that.
She knew, as well as she knew anything, that Hogwarts only existed like it did because the four of them had worked and accomplished their goal together.
Rowena Ravenclaw’s intelligence was something that could never have been matched. Her ability to research and know the most unknown of facts - or where to find a particular fact, if she could not recite it immediately - was definitely one of the strongest reasons Hogwarts stood. The most ancient and nearly-forgotten of spells had been required to make the school what it would become, and only Rowena could have succeeded so well in discovering that knowledge and knowing how to put it to use.
Godric Gryffindor’s passion was an emotion also unrivalled by any other person - wizard, witch, or Muggle - ever to live (or so Helga felt). He was a powerful wizard, and intelligent in his own ways, of course, but it was his passion, his drive, his strength in beliefs and his desire to attempt the new and un-attempted that had been his strongest contribution to the creation of the school. Rowena would find the spells and regardless of however untested they may be, Godric would try them.
Salazar Slytherin’s cunning and ambition had been his strongest characteristics in the founding of such an establishment. The dark-haired, noble wizard would rarely jump into a situation unchecked, his depth of examination an exact opposite of Godric’s own ‘act-first-think-later’ personality. An understanding of their world’s laws and government, Salazar had in abundance. Rowena could research any law that she wished, and Salazar could discover its loopholes and unravel the fancy rambles to know exactly what was allowed and what was not within the law’s wording. Having been raised in the type of ancient, noble environment that he had, the knowledge seemed almost inherent in Salazar’s blood, it came so natural to the Parselmouth.
And Helga Hufflepuff … Well, if one had asked her, the blonde-haired, soft-spoken witch would have simply smiled, her kindness as clear as day to even a complete stranger, and say that the other three had been her friends, and that she could have done nothing else but help them.
The others, however, would say a little more. They would tell tales of her way with the children and their parents, once the school had progressed to such a length and it was time for searching out its future students. A natural ease, Helga gave to the people that she talked with; she was a person that one could not help but trust - the parents knew that she would care for their children, and the children knew that her presence would ease any homesickness they may have.
Her gifts with the natural plant life was nearly as unrivalled as Salazar’s in the Potions chambers, a fact that had been made clear so very long ago, when Helga Hufflepuff had been merely a small child. Whether it was a nearly dangerous magical plant or something as harmless as a simple wildflower, Helga’s magical touch was put to use, and it was with her help that the grounds of Hogwarts continued to maintain their magnificence.
Alone, none of them would have succeeded. Not even had there been only two or three of them attempting to achieve the goal would Hogwarts have grown to be the grand place that it currently was. No, Helga knew with certainty that Hogwarts had needed the entire quartet; it had needed Godric, Salazar, Rowena, and herself - not one, not two, not three, but four.
And surely, four it must remain, she thought, pausing in her walk along the lake’s shores and taking a seat against the cool bark of a nearby tree. She wiggled her feet from her shoes, freeing her body from its temporary constraints to feel the blades of grass between her toes. The images from her dream had slowly started to be pushed aside while Helga had allowed her mind to wander about the school’s past, but now they came back in full force, flashing in her mind’s eye as clear as if she was watching the fight play out in front of her once again.
She was so lost in her thoughts of the dream that Helga did not hear the large, heavy oak doors open. She did not hear the steps of the approaching figure, though the visitor made no effort to quiet their steps. She did not even notice that another stood next to her, the figure’s shadow falling over the pensive Helga, until her name was spoken and a hand was laid upon her shoulder, jerking her from her thoughts.
“Helga?”
Helga gave a slight jump, turning her head enough to see Rowena Ravenclaw standing over her. The other witch’s long, dark locks of hair fell down her back, the strands slightly curled in their loose and natural state. Blue eyes surveyed the sitting woman, a slight look of concern radiating from their depths as she stared at her friend. “Is everything alright?” she asked, not removing her pale hand from Helga’s shoulder.
A bit of silence fell over the two witches for a brief moment, Helga only giving a small nod as an answer to Rowena’s inquiry. Helga’s gaze soon returned to the lake’s shoreline, and the fair-skinned woman knew that the witch she viewed almost as a sister had not been fooled by her simple action. The shuffling sounds that came from footsteps and the swishing of clothing told Helga that Rowena was taking her own seat against the tree’s solid trunk.
“What is on your mind?”
Her gaze not leaving the water, Helga sighed before answering. “Rowena,” she started before pausing again, allowing silence to fall over the two witches for the second time that morning. It did not last long, however, before Helga continued. This time, though, she moved her eyes’ stare from the lake to meet the sapphire orbs of the woman next to her.
“Do you believe in dreams?” she whispered. “Do you believe that they have the power to foretell the future - and if so, is it such a future that is irreversible, a future that will occur no matter the actions of anyone? Do you believe, Rowena, that the most unlikely thing, if it was dreamed about in such a way, would happen - regardless of how impossible it seems?”
A simple smile graced the thick lips of the dark-haired beauty that had also been gifted enough to hold such immense intelligence. Helga watched the expression grow, and she knew, before Rowena had even opened her mouth to answer, that the other witch was about to dismiss her concerns.
“Helga, what is it that has you so concerned?” she wondered, slowly shaking her head. “A dream is just that - a dream. It is not real, Helga -”
But Helga was shaking her own head, the action sending her unrestrained blonde hair flying with the movement. “No, Rowena, I do not think such was the case this time,” she said. Upon seeing Rowena readying for a reply, Helga raised her hand, pleading silence from her friend. “You did not see what I did last night,” she whispered. “The dream was unlike any other; it was so very real, so vivid, that it could be nothing else but a foretelling of something to come -”
“What did you see, Helga?” interrupted Rowena. “What is it that you believe is being foretold?”
“That is just it, my friend,” the younger woman answered. “What I saw, it could not have been happening. There is surely no way that either of them will come to such odds, to come to a point where each is prepared and ready to kill the other …”
For the third time that morning, silence fell. Helga spent the quiet minutes taking her gaze around the grounds once again, their bright orbs staring upon the lake, the castle, the forest, the mountains - every bit of the nature that surrounded her. She could feel the intense curiosity coming off of Rowena as the other woman remained next to her; she knew that, while her gaze wandered, Rowena’s blue eyes remained locked on herself.
“You are referring to Salazar and Godric, are you not?”
Helga was not surprised by Rowena’s words; the intelligent witch was bound to have figured out the answer and implications soon. And as she nodded, confirming her friend’s statement, Helga continued.
“It was during the summer, I believe, or perhaps the spring,” she began, her voice low in volume, though the words were clearly heard. “The weather should have been peaceful and bright, but it was dark - storm clouds covered the sky, the light of the sun hidden behind their grey blankets. I do not know where they were - a field or valley or some-such place.
“But it was just the two of them; only Godric and Salazar were present. And the hatred that could be felt between them … Rowena, I have never felt or seen such dark emotions come from anyone as what I saw in them. Pure despise shone on their faces, my friend; both Salazar and Godric looked as if they had the desire to destroy and kill the other - and no remorse would have been felt had either been slain.
“They fought … and Rowena, I saw them both hurl such dark curses at each other and such insults flew from their lips! You, as I have, have seen both Godric and Salazar in battle; we have seen them fight against some of the darkest enemies of this world. But what I saw in that dream was unlike anything I had seen before. And then …”
Here, Helga paused in her story once again. A slight frown appeared on her youthful-looking face, her teeth biting her lip in their brief hesitancy. She knew Rowena’s interest was still on her words, her friend’s mind trying to dissect and understand every single piece of the story - seeking meaning and divining knowledge - while her gaze remained locked on the fair-haired witch. The fact that she had hesitated would be obvious to Rowena, but Helga did not know precisely how to relate the rest of the dream to Rowena.
For not even Helga quite understood what had happened in the rest of the dream.
“What happened?” The words barely registered in Helga’s mind, and though she still did not quite know how to finish the story, she continued to speak.
“Both of them fired a spell at the same time,” she whispered, her words coming slow, almost as if Helga was trying to figure out what she was saying as she spoke. “The light connected, but then, they disappeared. There was a flash of light, and Godric and Salazar were no longer there.
“There were two others in their place, though I did not recognise either of them, Rowena. I could only tell that one of them held a very slight resemblance to Salazar, but now that I think over it again, I suppose that could easily have been for no other reason than the fact that he was now standing in Salazar’s former position … I do not know.
“But they became surrounded by a - a cage of light, I suppose. And there was a beautiful sound that started - Oh, Rowena, the music was unlike anything you could have ever heard. Lovely and piercing, it felt as if it had the ability to warm the soul. Such power, such strength in the simple thing of music, I have never experienced. And it grew louder and louder, until it suddenly stopped -
“And I woke up.”
Once Helga had finished her tale, she returned her complete attention to Rowena’s face, awaiting the other witch’s response. She watched as Rowena’s face showed the visual signs of her thinking, working so many pieces of a puzzle around in her mind until - most of the time - she arrived at the perfect answer. There was the slight frown of her lips and the way that her eyes seemed to glaze over as if she entered a trance, both signs that Helga had seen many times throughout the years that she had known the witch.
“What do you believe, Rowena?” she asked. “Do you believe in dreams?”
~*~
That's the end of chapter three.
~Megan