The chimes of the Excalibur clock tower rang out, the deep, resonant knells echoing through the Great Hall. Godric turned his head sharply toward the sound, his expression tightening with purpose. "I have to go," he announced abruptly, pushing back his chair and rising to his feet. "Professor Workner wanted to speak with me about something."
Rowena's gaze snapped to him, her brows knitting with concern. "Is everything alright? I hope it's not anything serious," she said.
Raine started to stand. "I'll come with you."
Godric leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek, his hand brushing hers. "Sorry, my darling," he said gently. "He specifically asked that I come alone. Don't worry, I won't be long."
Raine hesitated but nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. "Alright. Just don't keep me waiting too long."
Salazar raised his goblet, smirking. "Godspeed, Gryffindor. And do pass along our regards to dear Professor Workner."
Helga waved cheerily, already reaching for another sandwich. "Don't forget to come back with all the juicy details!"
Godric chuckled softly before grabbing the scabbard of his sword from where it rested against the table. He strapped it onto his back with practiced ease and strode out of the Great Hall. The sound of his boots echoed against the stone floor as he made his way through the foyer and ascended the Grand Staircase toward Workner's office.
Despite his outward confidence, a faint unease tugged at the edge of his thoughts. Something about the request lingered uncomfortably in his mind. Brushing the worry aside, he focused on the path ahead, determined to face whatever awaited him.
****
The sound of Godric's knuckles against the oak echoed through the quiet hallway before he turned the brass doorknob and stepped inside. The faint aroma of tea, cinnamon, and jam mingled in the air, hinting at the tray of crumpets and scones on a nearby table. Godric's crimson eyes immediately landed on Bran, Rowena's brother, seated on a leather couch. Bran sipped from a delicate china teacup, steam curling upwards, and his lime-green eyes, framed by his glasses, met Godric's with a polite smile.
"Gryffindor, always a pleasure," Bran greeted warmly.
Behind the desk, Professor Workner looked up from a stack of papers, adjusting his glasses. "Ah, Godric, come in, lad," he said, setting the papers aside and rising to his feet. "Take a seat, won't you?"
Godric hesitated, his gaze shifting between the two men. "Professor Workner? Mister Ravenclaw?" he asked, a flicker of unease betraying his calm demeanor. "What's going on?"
Bran chuckled, setting his teacup on the saucer. "Mister Ravenclaw is my father," he said with a grin. "You're a friend of Rowena's, so please, just call me Bran."
Godric nodded slowly, taking the seat opposite Bran, though his clasped hands revealed his nerves.
Professor Workner gestured to the tea tray. "Would you care for some tea? Perhaps a scone?"
Godric shook his head. "No, thank you. I've already eaten," he replied. "Had a big breakfast this morning."
Workner and Bran exchanged a glance before Workner sat beside Bran, clasping his hands together. "How are things with Miss Raine?" the man asked, his expression careful.
Godric's face brightened for a moment. "Oh, great!" he said, leaning forward. "We've been making plans. I'm taking her home for the holidays—I can't wait for Uncle Gareth to meet her."
Workner exhaled deeply, removing his glasses to rub his temples before replacing them. His movements were deliberate, his hesitation palpable. Godric's smile faltered, his instincts picking up on the shift in mood.
"Professor, is something wrong?" Godric asked.
The man leaned forward, his posture weighted with the gravity of his words. "Godric," he began, "there's no easy way to say this, so I'll be direct. As you know, Miss Raine is now free, which means she's no longer property—neither yours nor Excalibur Academy's."
Godric nodded slowly, his brows knitting. "Yes, I know. What's the problem?"
Workner hesitated, glancing at Bran before continuing. "Because she's no longer considered property, she's also not officially recognized as a student. That means…" He paused, bracing himself. "She cannot remain here."
The words hit Godric like a physical blow. "What?" he exclaimed, sitting upright. "Surely, there's a solution. She could live in Caerleon, couldn't she?"
"That was my first thought," Workner said, his tone heavy with regret. "Believe me, I've spent the week reaching out to every connection I could think of. Even Quibble, knowing how much he adores you both. But…"
He sighed deeply, running a hand over his face. "Business hasn't exactly been booming. Most of them are struggling—Quibble included. As much as he wanted to help, he just can't afford to take on anyone right now. The bookstore is his whole life, and he's barely keeping it afloat. Not to mention…" Workner hesitated, his gaze dropping. "He's a goblin, and as you already know, this society isn't exactly kind to him either."
Godric clenched his fists. "Then what about other places?" he asked, his voice tinged with desperation. "Caerleon is a big city. There has to be businesses in need of help."
Workner shook his head slowly. "I've tried, Godric. I truly have. But as soon as they hear she was a slave, they shut their doors. Either out of prejudice or fear of upsetting their clientele." His expression grew darker. "It's infuriating, but it's the reality we live in. And it's not just Raine—it's the system stacked against her."
"The world outside these walls is unkind to slaves—even more so to former slaves." Bran interjected, taking another sip from his teacup. "Furthermore, Raine's entire life has been in servitude. While her freedom is a triumph, it also leaves her without the protections, skills, or status needed to thrive in a society that remains deeply prejudiced against her kind."
Godric's jaw clenched as his mind raced. His thoughts turned to the incident the day before, the man's disgusted expression and the hateful slur he'd hurled at Raine. The memory reignited the anger simmering beneath the surface.
"There has to be a way," Godric said firmly. "We can't just turn her out into a world that hates her."
"Lad, that's not what I'm trying to say," Workner's expression carried the weight of unspoken truths.
Godric faltered at the implication. "This… this isn't just about her not being able to remain in Excalibur… or Caerleon, is it?" His breath caught. "She can't stay with me, at all, can she? I… I can't be with her."
Bran adjusted his glasses, his face etched with quiet sympathy.
"Not while you remain a student of Excalibur Academy," Workner replied gently but firmly.
Godric shot to his feet. "Then I'll leave the school! I'll drop out! We'll figure it out together. I'll find work—anything—just to be with her!"
Bran held up a hand, his gaze softening. "Godric, think for a moment," he said. "You're not a denizen of Avalon, and Raine isn't from your world either. It's not as simple as dropping out or staying together. The divide between your worlds is more than just distance—it's cultural, legal, and magical."
Godric's fists clenched at his sides, his breaths shallow as Bran's words settled over him like a heavy shroud. "So, what are you saying?" he asked. "That I have to let her go?"
Workner leaned forward, resting his chin on his interlocked fingers, his expression contemplative. "This is exactly why I wanted to speak to you, Godric," he began.
"Bran and I reviewed her papers. Raine originally comes from a village beyond the Howling Mountains. That village has since recovered and grown into a thriving small town. There's a chance she may have family there—people who would gladly take her in."
"That's great!" Godric's eyes lit with a flicker of hope. "I can go with her, right? I can visit her there?"
"Godric, the Howling Mountains are a three-day journey, even by airship. It's not a trip you can just pick up and make on a whim." Bran paused. "And Raine's is a therianthrope. You know what that means—they mate for life. You're her mate, Godric. Being apart from you… it wouldn't just hurt her. It could destroy her."
Bran sighed as his expression tinged with concern. "Know that this isn't cruelty, nor is it a simple act of malice," He continued. "It's the law. The Clock Tower's rulings are absolute, and they're designed to maintain balance. Like all laws, they must be followed to the letter, no matter how difficult they are to accept."
Godric slumped back against the couch, his hands burying into his hair. "It's not fair," he muttered. "It's not fair!" His gaze shot up, burning with frustration. "After everything we've been through, after everything I've done for her, you're telling me now that it's all for nothing?"
Workner closed his eyes briefly, his shoulders sagging. "Life is rarely fair, lad," he said quietly. "It's a cruel truth we all have to face at some point. Like before, I wish I could give you the answer you seek. I wish I could give you a perfect solution, but I can't." He turned back, his grey eyes meeting Godric's. "But this isn't about you. It's about Raine. Whatever you choose, you have to think about what's best for her."
Bran leaned forward; his lime-green eyes soft yet serious. "You need to understand—we've tried everything. Serfence and I exhausted every avenue to change this outcome. We've parleyed with people neither of us trust or like. But the Tower remains firm. They believe any concessions will set a precedent, one that could lead to chaos. In their eyes, laws must be upheld to prevent disorder."
Godric clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he fought to hold back the tears burning in his eyes. The weight of Bran's words pressed on him like a boulder he couldn't move.
Workner's expression softened. "Sure, you could leave. Drop out of Excalibur, take Raine, and build the life you dream of. But consider the cost." He gestured toward the window, as if pointing to the wider world. "Without the academy's protection, you'd both be on your own. No stability, no peace. Always looking over your shoulder for the Clock Tower's agents. One misstep, one moment of exposure, and it all comes crashing down."
"And that's no life," Bran added. "Not for you, not for Raine, and not for any family you hope to build with her." He hesitated. "This isn't about abandoning her. It's about ensuring she has a future. You owe her that much."
Godric sat in silence, his mind a tempest of emotions. A part of him screamed to run, to fight for Raine with every ounce of his being. Another whispered that perhaps letting her go was the only way to give her the life she deserved. These two warring sides clashed, fanning the flames of his anger and frustration.
His fingers twitched, his thoughts drifting to the sword on his back, a dark and dangerous voice in his mind tempting him to draw it. He hated it all—the laws, the Clock Tower, the world itself, everything conspiring to tear them apart. Yet, he knew the men before him weren't to blame. Still, the pain within him burned, threatening to drag him into the abyss.
Bran sighed heavily, setting his teacup and saucer onto the table with a soft clink. "I've bought you as much time as I possibly could. I've exhausted every excuse. But now, I'm afraid I need an answer."
Workner leaned forward, his face etched with empathy. "Lad, understand this: whatever you decide, it won't leave this room. Your choice is your own, and neither Bran nor I will stand in your way if you decide to leave with her."
"But…" Bran said, his tone grim. "If you do choose to run, know this—there are others. The Adjudicators and Aurors are but the tip of the iceberg. There are other ranks within the Clock Tower made up of individuals far more skilled, ruthless, and infinitely more relentless than I."
He paused, his lime-green eyes narrowing as if recalling past encounters. "These individuals have built their entire careers—and their reputations—on hunting down those who defy the law. Even for the smallest infractions. And believe me, Godric, they won't hesitate. Once they have your name, they'll pursue you to the ends of Avalon and beyond. They'll stop at nothing."
Godric's fists clenched tighter, his knuckles turning white as his heart pounded painfully in his chest, the impossible choice tearing at him.
Workner exhaled deeply, his hand covering his face for a moment as if trying to shield himself from the weight of his own words. "But letting her go," he said, "that's only half of the problem."
He straightened, his eyes meeting Godric's with a pained intensity. "As Bran said, her nature as a therianthrope complicates this beyond anything we can imagine. You might choose to part ways, Godric, but Raine…" He trailed off, the pause deliberate, and the words heavy. "You know this as well as I do. To her, you're not just her mate—you're her world, her anchor. The bond you've forged with her runs deeper than anything we can truly understand. It's instinctual, primal, and absolute."
He hesitated, his expression grim. "Breaking that bond… it's not just painful—it's catastrophic. Emotionally, it will shatter her. Physically, it could weaken her in ways we don't fully comprehend. That kind of loss isn't something a therianthrope simply recovers from. It's a pain no creature should ever endure, and, Godric…" Workner's voice softened, trembling slightly. "I fear it's a pain she might not survive."
"There's… one way," Godric said suddenly. His crimson eyes glistened with unshed tears, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "And you were already thinking it, weren't you, Bran?"
Bran froze, his eyes widening briefly before shifting downward, his expression guilt-ridden. Workner straightened, realization dawning on him.
"Can you do it?" Godric pressed, more a demand than a question, trembling with barely contained emotion.
Bran hesitated. "I… I've done it before. Many times," he admitted, the weight of his confession hanging heavy in the room. "It's part of my duties as an Adjudicator."
Godric's jaw tightened as his hands gripped the armrests. His eyes screwed shut as his words broke through the silence. "Just… give me one more day. Please." His voice cracked, the vulnerability raw and undeniable. "One more day."
Workner and Bran exchanged a solemn glance. Without a word, Workner placed a comforting hand on Bran's shoulder. "Come on," he said softly. "Let's leave the lad to his thoughts."
Both men rose from their seats, the silence between them louder than words. Bran hesitated at the door, his hand resting on the brass knob. He glanced back at Godric, his face unreadable, lips parting as if to say something—but he thought better of it. Closing his mouth, he turned the knob and left with Workner behind him, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click.
In the stillness of the room, Godric remained frozen, his body trembling as the weight of his turmoil pressed down on him. Then, in a burst of emotion, his fist slammed against the armrest of the couch, the dull thud echoing in the air. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. His breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps, each one a battle against the heartbreak that threatened to consume him entirely.
****
The pavilion on the frozen lake stood adorned with frost, the snow delicately outlining the rooftops and curling around the wooden banisters. Raine sat quietly on a wooden bench, her silver hair cascading over her shoulders as her tail wagged softly, a gentle rhythm of contentment. Behind her, the small bonfire at the center of the pavilion crackled, its warmth warding off the chill. Her golden eyes gazed across the distance, tracing the treetops and the thin trails of white smoke rising from chimneys on the far side of the lake.
On her lap rested the well-worn book Godric had given her long ago after their adventure in Caerleon, Lumea and the Starbound Tree. Its pages, soft and slightly frayed at the edges, bore the weight of countless readings. She had immersed herself in its tale so often that she could recite every word by heart. But it wasn't just the story she cherished—though its magic and wonder spoke deeply to her—it was the sentiment behind it.
Her fingers absentmindedly brushed over the bracelet on her wrist, feeling the intricate design under her touch. The ruby lion charm caught the muted winter sunlight, casting tiny crimson reflections onto her skin. Like the book, it was more than just simple jewelry; it was a piece of Godric's heart, a token of their bond, and a reminder of his love.
Raine's thoughts wandered as she gazed out. The journey to this moment had been long, arduous, and at times unbearable. She had endured cold, unforgiving floors, relentless punishments, and a life that felt devoid of hope. Yet here she was, no longer bound by chains, but free. Free to live, to dream, and to love.
Her heart swelled as her thoughts turned to Godric. A blush warmed her cheeks as she pictured his touch, his fiery determination. He was more than she had ever dared to dream of—a brave lion who had fought for her, who had believed in her. For so long, she had thought tales of salvation were nothing more than stories spun for children. But then Godric had entered her life, proving that even the most distant dreams could become reality.
A small smile spread across her lips, soft and whimsical, as her hand drifted instinctively to her stomach. "Alura," she whispered, the name carrying the warmth of hope and love. "Someday soon, I know it."
She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the peace of the moment wash over her, the crackling fire and distant hum of the wind wrapping her in their embrace. For the first time, she could see a future—not one of survival, but one of happiness.
Raine's wolfen ears twitched as the soft sound of footsteps reached her. She turned to see Godric approaching the pavilion, a warm smile playing on his lips. She greeted him with the same warmth, her tail wagging softly.
"I thought I'd find you here," he said, making his way to sit beside her on the bench. She leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender kiss, but as they pulled apart, her smile faded, replaced by a look of concern.
"Godric," she asked gently, her golden eyes searching his face, "have you… have you been crying?"
Godric straightened up, quickly rubbing his face with his sleeve. "Oh, uh, yeah," he stammered. "They were cooking something spicy in the kitchens. The smoke got everywhere—made my eyes water like crazy."
Raine raised an eyebrow but played along, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "Sounds about right. I remember once when Chef Gusteau used some strange vegetable from the market—smoked out the whole kitchen. We were coughing for days."
"That must've been awful," Godric said with a chuckle, though his laughter was quieter than usual. His crimson eyes drifted to the frozen lake, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Do you remember our lessons here?"
Raine slipped her arm through his, her hand finding his and holding it tightly. She rested her head on his shoulder, a warm smile spreading across her face as her eyes closed. "How could I forget?" she said softly. "You didn't just teach me how to read, Godric. You gave me a piece of myself I thought I'd lost. I'll never be able to repay you for that—not in a thousand lifetimes."
Godric leaned his head against hers. "I'll miss our lessons."
Raine lifted her head, turning to look at him with a playful grin. "Oh, you silly boy," she teased. "Just because I can read now doesn't mean the lessons have to stop. There are so many books out there, and I can't wait to read them all—with you."
Godric's eyes softened as he gazed at her, a small, genuine smile breaking through his earlier sadness. "With you," he echoed.
His gaze then fell on the book on Raine's lap. "By Charlamagne, you're still reading that?" he asked with a gentle chuckle. "What is it now, your seventh time?"
Raine smiled, a soft blush tinting her cheeks. "Well, it's my favorite," she replied, running her fingers over the worn pages. "Far-off places, daring sword fights, magic, mystery, and most of all…" Her voice softened. "Love."
"Oh?" Godric raised a brow, the corners of his lips curling into a grin. "You know, I've watched you read it so many times, but I don't think I've ever asked—what's it about? Would you tell me?"
Raine gave him an amused look. "You want me to summarize the whole thing now?" she teased. "Alright, it's the story of Lumea, an elf from the Woodland Realms, and an acolyte of the Starbound Tree. When darkness falls over her land, she joins a charming young prince and his brave friends on a journey to defeat an evil wizard."
"Ooh, sounds like a proper adventure," Godric said, leaning closer with interest. "Go on."
"Well," Raine began as she ran her fingers along the book's spine, "Lumea and the Prince couldn't have been more different when they first met. She was a pacifist, devoted to her beliefs and unwavering in her ways. Stubborn, yes, but her heart was gentle. The Prince, on the other hand, was everything she wasn't—brave, but impulsive. A warrior through and through, hardened by countless battles. They clashed constantly, their ideals and approaches to life as opposite as night and day."
She smiled faintly. "But as they traveled together, facing unimaginable dangers and overcoming insurmountable odds, something changed. They began to see the strength in each other's differences. The Prince found solace in her kindness, and she saw the bravery behind his boldness. Slowly, those clashes turned into a bond, something neither of them could have predicted."
Her voice softened, almost wistful. "Over time, they fell for each other—two halves of a whole, finding harmony in their differences."
"But their love was far from simple," Raine continued. "Deep down, they both knew it could never truly be. Lumea, an elf, had dedicated her life to the spirits of the Starbound Tree. Her very existence was bound to her sacred vows, her purpose entwined with the ancient magic she served. And the Prince, a human, was tied to his kingdom by blood, duty, and the weight of a crown that demanded his loyalty above all else."
She paused, her golden eyes glimmering with emotion. "They came from two completely different worlds. Her life was eternal and ethereal, devoted to the gods and the tree's magic. His was fleeting, grounded in the mortal struggles of his people. No matter how much they loved each other, no matter how deeply they longed to be together, they knew their vows and allegiances would always keep them apart."
Godric's chest hitched slightly, the weight of the story pressing down on him like a hammer striking hot iron. The parallels to his own circumstance were undeniable, each word cutting deeper, as if the gods themselves were mocking him with their cruel sense of irony.
"When they finally faced the dark wizard, they realized too late that he was far more powerful than they had imagined. The Prince and his brave companions were no match for him. His mighty blade was shattered, and hope seemed lost." She paused. "And Lumea…"
"Lumea what?" Godric pressed softly. "What did she do?"
Raine's ears drooped as she lowered her gaze to the book. "To save the Prince—the man she loved—Lumea made the ultimate sacrifice. She gave him her magic, knowing it would cost her life. Her power restored his strength, his resolve… and with it, he defeated the wizard, saving the world." Her words faltered, and she swallowed hard. "But when the battle was over… she was gone."
Godric felt a sharp pang in his heart, his breath catching as if the story had torn open a wound he had been desperately trying to close. He turned his gaze away. "That's… devastating," he said quietly.
Raine nodded she continued the tale. "After the battle, the Prince and his companions returned home as heroes. The Prince ascended to the throne, leading his kingdom into an era of peace and prosperity. His people revered him, and his legacy was secured through his heirs. But…" She glanced down at the book in her hands, a wistful note weaving through her words. "He never took a queen."
"He believed his heart would always belong to Lumea. No matter how much time passed, no one else could ever take her place." Her lips quivered slightly, the weight of the story's sorrow seeping into her own emotions. "She was his light, his love, his everything… and he carried her memory with him until the end of his days."
Raine let out a soft sigh, her gaze distant as she lingered on the bittersweet conclusion. She gently flipped through the pages, her fingers brushing over the well-worn edges until they rested on a particular passage. "This," she whispered, pointing to the text, her voice tender, "is my favorite part. It's what Lumea says to the Prince before… before the end."
Godric leaned closer, his eyes following the path of her finger as she began to recite, each word imbued with heartfelt reverence. "You know that place between sleep and awake, that place where you still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always love you. That's where I'll be waiting."
The words hung in the air like a delicate thread, vibrating with meaning. Godric swallowed hard, his chest tightening. The passage struck him with the force of a gale, piercing him to his core. "That's… beautiful," he murmured. "And cruel, all at once. I thought this was supposed to be a happy story. Not… this."
Raine turned to him. A soft, bittersweet smile curved her lips. "That's exactly why I love it," she said gently. "Because even though it's sad, it's also true. It reminds me that love—real, true love—is eternal. Even when it seems impossible, even when it feels like it's gone."
Her hand found his, her fingers threading through his as her gaze locked with his. "Like ours," she whispered, her voice unwavering, filled with quiet conviction.
Godric felt her words strike him like a blade to the heart, sharp and unrelenting. A lump formed in his throat as he fought back the storm brewing inside him. He wanted desperately to tell her the truth, to unburden himself of the crushing weight he carried. But as he looked into her radiant eyes, full of warmth and trust, he couldn't bring himself to break her heart.
Not yet.
He swallowed hard. "I'm glad you feel that way, Raine." His crimson eyes softened, masking the turmoil within. "Because no matter what happens, I want you to remember that too." His hand tightened around hers, silently vowing to make this day count, to etch every moment with her into his memory.
Godric then drew a deep breath, pushing himself to his feet with renewed determination. "Hey," he said with a smile, brushing off the weight of his earlier thoughts, "how about we hit the town today? A proper do-over of the other day—no worthless pricks to ruin it."
Raine blinked in surprise before her lips curved into a soft smile. "You know what? That sounds perfect. I could really use some ice cream."
"Ice cream?" Godric laughed, raising an eyebrow. "In this weather? Are you mad?"
"As the Hufflepuff proverb goes, 'It's never a bad time for ice cream,' Ser Gryffindor." Raine stood, her tail wagging playfully behind her. "And this time, I want rainbow sprinkles."
Godric shook his head, chuckling. "You really need to stop spending so much time with Helga."
"But you love me for it," she quipped, flashing him a cheeky grin.
He reached out, taking her hand. "That I do," he said warmly. "Come on, let's make today one to remember."
With their hands intertwined, they left the pavilion, the crisp winter air carrying the sound of their laughter as they walked toward the city.
****
The city of Caerleon hummed with a quieter energy than usual, the Yuletide decorations gradually giving way to the vibrant banners and garlands for the upcoming New Year's celebration. The streets were less crowded, with many denizens having left the city to spend the remainder of the holidays with their families. This left Godric and Raine to enjoy a rare sense of peace as they strolled along the cobblestone sidewalks, passing storefronts and exchanging polite nods with familiar faces.
Raine, however, drew more attention than either of them expected—not for the faint mark still visible around her neck, nor for her past as a slave, but for the towering, swirly cone of ice cream in her hand. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she licked at the treat, her blissful expression causing passersby to grin. Godric chuckled, watching her tail wag faintly as the rainbow sprinkles glimmered in the fading winter sunlight.
It was then that he stopped abruptly, his gaze caught by a shop window. Behind the glass, enchanted photographs were displayed: moving images of people frozen in perpetual motion—laughing, embracing, dancing. Couples kissed, children waved, and families beamed in shimmering, magical stillness.
Raine turned to him, her golden eyes lighting up. "Oh, I've heard about these!" she said excitedly. "Enchanted photographs. They capture a moment, and it stays like that forever."
Godric smirked, tilting his head. "Sounds a bit far-fetched if you ask me… but then again, it's magic. No point in trying to make sense of it. Though, I bet if Rowena explained it, she'd have me nodding off in two minutes."
Raine giggled, licking her cone again. "Still struggling with how Lacrimas work?"
"That's putting it lightly." Godric shook his head, his gaze lingering on the moving portraits. A thought suddenly struck him. "Hey, how about we get one?"
Raine's ears perked up, and her cheeks tinged with a soft blush. "Us? Oh, Godric… I don't know…"
"Come on, it'll be fun." Godric grinned, but then his expression faltered briefly, the pang of an unspoken worry crossing his face. He softened his tone. "For… memories' sake."
Raine studied him for a moment, sensing the weight behind his words. Then, her lips curled into a warm smile, and she nodded. "Alright. Let's do it."
Godric's grin returned as he reached for the door handle, the bell above tinkling softly as it swung open. He turned back to her, holding out his hand. "Come on, then."
She took his hand, stepping into the shop as the warmth inside wrapped around them like an embrace, and the door swung shut behind them.
****
The shop door chimed softly as Godric and Raine stepped out into the crisp winter air. Raine held a small photograph in her hands, the enchanted image showing the two of them smiling before leaning into a tender kiss. A soft blush adorned her cheeks as she admired it, her golden eyes tracing the magical motion. Beside her, Godric glanced down at the snowflake pendant now resting in his palm, its delicate engraving catching the fading sunlight. He opened it, revealing the same photograph nestled within.
"You know," Godric began with a chuckle, snapping the pendant shut and tucking it back into his shirt, "you could've told me this thing opened."
"And miss seeing that adorable, clueless look on your face when I showed you?" Raine grinned playfully. "Now, where's the fun in that?"
Godric rolled his eyes, though his smile lingered. "By the Gods, you sound just like Salazar."
"Oh, is that so?" Raine teased, flashing a playful grin, her canine fang peeking as her golden eyes sparkled mischievously. "You know, I've been giving it some thought," she continued, her tail swishing behind her with soft excitement. "I think Salazar, Helga, and Rowena would make excellent godparents." She tilted her head, a cheeky glint in her gaze. "At least for our future kids."
Godric chuckled, shaking his head. "Salazar as a godparent? Are we talking about the same Salazar who once tried to convince a first-year that toads could fly if you whispered the right spell to them?"
Raine giggled. "Exactly! He'd teach them cunning—how to outwit everyone, even their parents." She leaned closer, her grin widening. "And Helga? She'd make sure they're well-fed and know how to bake pies better than anyone in Avalon."
"And Rowena?" Godric asked, raising an eyebrow.
"She'd teach them how to be smarter than their dad," Raine quipped, poking his chest lightly.
"Oh, har har," Godric replied, rolling his eyes with a mock groan. "And here I was thinking they'd get your charm and my courage. Now they'll just outsmart me at every turn while eating pastries and plotting mischief."
"Sounds perfect, doesn't it?" Raine teased, her laughter light and carefree.
Godric grinned, though his shoulders sagged slightly under the weight of his thoughts. "You're probably right. They'd be amazing influences—" He faltered, his words catching in his throat as the looming dread of his decision pressed against him like a shadow.
Raine's ears perked, and she tilted her head to look at him. "Godric? Are you alright? Truly?"
"Of course," he replied quickly, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm fine, love. It's probably just the cold."
Raine reached up, gently placing her palm against his forehead. "You don't feel warm… I hope you're not coming down with something."
Godric chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I promise, I'm not sick." He cleared his throat and pointed ahead. "How about we stop by Pierre's at the Pixie Pantry? I'm in the mood for something sweet and sour."
Raine studied him for a moment, her eyes searching his face, but she eventually nodded. "Alright then, lead the way."
As they continued walking, Godric tried to focus on her laughter, the way her hand fit perfectly in his, and the subtle warmth she brought into the winter chill. But no matter how hard he tried, the knot in his chest refused to loosen. Each step brought him closer to the inevitable, and the clock seemed to tick louder with every moment, the weight of his impending decision growing heavier with each passing second.
****
Later that night, the Academy kitchens were silent, save for the soft dripping of water from a loose tap. Godric sat slumped at one of the battered wooden tables, its surface worn from years of use. The faint scents of soap and lingering meal prep hung in the air, reminders of a space long since cleaned and abandoned for the night. Across from him sat Sophia, her eyes red and swollen from tears. The weight of their shared grief hung heavily in the room.
Godric's hand gripped a half-empty glass of butterbeer as if he were trying to hold onto something solid amidst the turmoil within. His face was a storm of emotions, anger and sorrow clashing for dominance. Sophia, though calm now, bore the same pain, her expression tender as she watched the boy struggle.
"I… I have no words," Sophia whispered. "I've lived with injustice all my life, Godric. But this… this feels like a cruelty even I can't stomach."
Godric's jaw tightened, his words spilling through gritted teeth. "I don't know what to do, Sophia. Every part of me wants to take her, grab her hand, and run. Find the nearest airship, leave Caerleon, and never look back." His fist slammed against the table, causing the glasses to rattle. "But then what? I don't even know where we'd go."
Sophia reached across the table, her hand resting gently over his. "I wouldn't blame you if you did, dear boy. But running won't give you the peace you're looking for." She looked down. "You'd both spend your days as fugitives, looking over your shoulders. That's not the life you want for her—or for yourself."
Tears brimmed in Godric's eyes, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his anguish. He spoke, each word laced with heartbreak. "I promised her," he whispered, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I promised you. I swore I'd love her, protect her, and be with her always. That we'd build a life together—a future worth fighting for."
His voice faltered, cracking as the words caught in his throat. "But now…" His hands clenched into fists, trembling with the helplessness that engulfed him. "Now, I'm going to lose her… I'm going to lose her forever. And no matter how hard I try, there's nothing—absolutely nothing—I can do to stop it."
His breath hitched as the tears spilled freely down his cheeks, the finality of it all threatening to break him entirely. Sophia stood, moving to his side as tears filled her own eyes again. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close.
"No, Godric," she said firmly. "This isn't your fault. You've fought for her, for all of us, in ways most wouldn't dare. You've given more than anyone could ever ask." She held him tighter, her own grief spilling over. "If there's anyone to blame, it's this cursed system, not you."
"That's not enough." Godric buried his face in his hands, his breath ragged. "I want someone to blame," he muttered. "Someone I can fight. Someone like Volg. I want to look them in the eye, sword in hand, and make them answer for this. For hurting me. For hurting her." His fists clenched. "But there's no one to blame. No one to hurt back. And that's the worst part."
Sophia's hand moved to his shoulder, her grip firm but comforting. "I know," she said softly. "I know, Godric. And that's the cruelest truth of all. Sometimes, there's no one to fight. No villain to vanquish. Only the strength to endure." She pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his crimson ones. "But you don't have to endure this alone. Whatever happens, you're not alone."
Godric leaned into her embrace. The kitchen remained silent save for the quiet sound of his breath and the faint echoes of a world outside, one that seemed intent on tearing apart everything he held dear.
"The fact that Raine's a therianthrope," Godric began, "it makes everything so much harder, so much worse. Knowing what that means—what it truly means—it feels like taking a blade to my chest and carving my own heart out." His jaw clenched as he fought to steady himself.
Sophia's eyes softened; her gaze full of understanding. "I understand, dear boy," she said softly. "But remember what you told me once—you said you'd love and cherish her always. That no matter what happens, you'd put her first. And I believe you."
Her fingers tenderly brushing through his hair. "Whatever you decide, Godric, I will cast no blame upon you. Nor will anyone who truly knows you hold it against you. Raine deserves happiness, and so do you. No matter where this path leads, know this—we're all here for you. Every single one of us."
Godric trembled in her embrace, the dam inside him breaking as more tears spilled down his cheeks. He clung to her warmth, finding a faint glimmer of solace in her words. "Thank you, Sophia," he whispered. "Thank you for believing in me… even when I can't believe in myself."