Of Snakes and Flames

He did not remember much of his younger childhood. Back when he lived with his birth family. The family who rejected him.

All he remembered was flames.

Flames, screaming, yelling. They were his earliest memories. He remembered being confused, scared, crying for his parents to save him.

But they didn't. They just stood there, looking on with the rest of the villagers.

He remembered the smoke. The flames as they ignited the pier. The fire they intended to burn him away. He was only six years of age, and yet they treated him like some sort of demon.

He was confused. Why were they doing this? He was a good boy. He was only trying to help the other child feel better. He didn't think the strange power he had was evil, or sinful.

But they wouldn't listen. They would only scream.

Witch. Demon. Devil spawn.

Tears ran from his eyes as the flames engulfed him. He expected a slow and painful death.

Only to feel nothing. The flames danced along his skin harmlessly. He stared as the ropes which bound him burnt away. But nothing else did. He was perfectly fine. If anything, the flames felt comforting. They felt like a warm mother's embrace.

He could feel a new energy within him. He felt the flames connect with his inner power.

By instinct, he harnessed his power.

The flames shot up and around him in a great explosion. The villagers screamed. But by the time the flames died down, he was gone. He faded away into the shadows of the night. Without a second glance, he left the only home he had ever known in his small life.
**
He had been on his own for a few months. He had at first tried to live off the land. But that had resulted in him being violently ill for several days.

He then resorted to stealing from nearby villagers. He at first hesitated. Was stealing not wrong? Was it not sinful?

But then he remembered that these people would call him sinful for merely existing. They had no doubt put many people like him to the stake, if there were other people like him.

One day this cycle changed.

He had not found another village for Several days. He had been going village to village, never staying in more than one place for too long. He could not risk making roots. He would not risk it.

He was starving when he found a camp. One travelling old man lay near a burnt out campfire. He was clearly asleep.

He snuck into the camp, creeping silently to where the man had carelessly put a large sack. He opened the sack to see it was full of strange instruments and various weapons. No food here.

"What do we have hear?"

He jumped in surprise. The old man was awake.

"Stealing are we?" The old man continued.

"I... I'm sorry." He spluttered. "Please, I am just so hungry..."

The old man studied him.

"Where are your parents little one?" He asked.

He looked down.

"They... They do not want me." He muttered.

The old man frowned. Suddenly, he grabbed his hand. He could feel a tingling sensation.

"Ahh, I see." The old man said more kindly. "They feared what they did not understand, and so they rejected their own child for having magic."

He flinched.

"I..." He began.

"Oh, do not worry little one." The man continued. "You are not the only one to face the prosecution of the church for such an incredible blessing."

He stared in amazement as the man began to grow flowers around them. He could feel the... magic, in the air.

"You are a witch." He breathed.

The old man chuckled.

"That is what the ignorant people of the church call us." He replied. "However, witches are more of a feminine term. Wizards are a more masculine term."

He frowned.

"So you are a wizard?“ He asked.

The old man chuckled again.

"Not quite." He replied. "Witches and wizards are a general term for magic users. There are many more classes of magic, the more common being sorcerers, who use a magical focus, and druids, who draw more from the land."

He looked around.

"So you are a druid?" He asked.

The old man smiled.

"Yes, you are an intelligent one, aren't you?" He replied. "We are very rare now, considering how much effort the romans put into killing us all. But we are still here."

The druid held out his hand.

"My name is Fearcra." He said.

He shook the man's hand.

"Would you like to stay with me, and learn the ways of the druid?" Fearcra continued.

His eyes widened.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

Fearcra nodded.

"I can feel it within you. You possess a natural gift, a natural connection with the earth. You would be a powerful druid."

His eyes grew wider and wider. He could be powerful. He could learn the things he needed to survive. He could help others like him.

"I would love to, thank you." He replied eagerly.
**
For the next three years, Fearcra taught him the ways of the druids. He learnt to draw energy from the elements, earth, fire, air and water. He learnt he had a natural gift with healing and fire. This confused him.

"How can I be gifted in healing if I also have a gift in fire?" He asked. "After all, is fire not destructive?"

Fearcra sighed.

"I can understand why you may not have the best opinion of fire, after what those ignorant people did to you," He began. "However, fire is more than just destruction. It is light, it is warmth. Much like all the elements, you much not see it as either good or evil, for there is no such thing. It can hurt just as much as it can help."

He nodded.

"I... I think I understand." He replied.

He eventually told Fearcra of what exactly happened to him. The druid had always had an idea of what he had gone through, but never the details.

"You say the flames did not burn you at all?" Fearcra asked, stroking his long white beard.

He nodded.

"It felt, warm, like a mother's embrace." He replied.

Fearcra hummed.

"Even if you have an affinity with fire, you should not be immune to being burnt." He mused. A smile then spread across the old druid's face. "You must truly be blessed by Lady Brigit."

He felt a flutter in his chest. Fearcra spoke of the gods often. He could not help but feel drawn to them. To the wild, passionate fae who went against practically everything the church taught. It was so beautiful to think of them. He wished to know more about them, to show his dedication to gods who would not condemn him for being different, even if, according to Fearcra, it was them who was behind him being different.

Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever. He was now ten years of age. He had been out fishing for their dinner. He had had a good day, and had enough to last them. They had begun storing food of when the winter came.

He was just about to reach their camp, when he heard voices. Ruth, unfamiliar voices, yelling in joy and pleasure.

He dropped the fish and ran.

Hiding behind a tree, he saw a sight which filled him with absolute horror. Fearcra, the old druid who had become like a father to him, lay face down on the ground. His body was covered in stab wounds and arrows.

Around half a dozen bandits were raiding the camp. Violating Fearcra's belongings with their filthy hands.

He felt anger burn through him. How dare these vile creatures attack his mentor and try to steal what wasn't theirs?

His anger manifested in a large ball of flame. The bandits only had time to turn in horror, before they were engulfed in flames. There were screams. The smell of burning flesh.

But he didn't care. He raced towards Fearcra's prone form. He felt for a pulse.

Nothing.

He tried to use his healing magic. When that didn't work, he shook him, trying to desperately wake him.

Nothing worked. Fearcra, his mentor, his father figure, his only family, was dead.

Tears streamed from his eyes. He sucked in a deep breath.

He used his magic to draw Fearcra into the earth. He then summoned flowers to grow above the grave.

"May Manannán Mac Lir take you home, to Tir Na Nóg." He began shakily. "May you find peace, and may the Dagda, the lord of all druids, welcome you into his hall."

He placed his hand on the grave.

"You feast with the gods tonight. And may you find the peace you deserve."

He sucked in a deep breath. He felt a heavy wight in his chest.

"Thank you, for everything." He finished in barely a whisper.

He stood. He turned to the campsite, gathering what he could into Fearcra's old sack.

With one final look, he turned away, once again alone.
**
He decided that remaining in this land would be too hard. He had too many ghosts here. And so he snuck onto the first merchant ship he could find, and sailed to the land called England.

Fearcra had taught him well. He now could live off of the land, without accidentally poisoning himself.

There was also a new creature which fascinated him.

Scaly creatures which slithered along the ground, hiding in long grass and plants. He soon discovered that they were quite venomous, and quite swift. He soon learnt that these creatures were called snakes.

Snakes, creatures which the church condemned as evil. This only increased the growing love he had for the creatures.

After a year of being alone, he had had enough. He could go days, weeks, without speaking a single word.

It was agonising. He eventually resorted to talking to the snakes. Unfortunately, he could not understand them.

He wished he could. He wished he could have a proper conversation with them.

And one evening, his magic granted his wish.

He was speaking to himself, or the snakes as usual.

"Honestly, why must the Saxons and the Danes argue over land?" He began. [Can't they see it will be beneficial for everyone if they only worked together? Who cares if the Danes are pagan.]

[Stupid humans fighting for stupid reasons.]

He blinked.

[Can you... Understand me?]

He asked hesitantly.

[Of course, stupid human.]

He blinked in surprise, before a large grin spread across his face.

From then on, the snakes were his closest friends and his greatest spies. He would treat the snakes with respect, which was rare for a human, according to the snakes.

They even gave him a new name. From then on, he would call himself Salazar. It was not a common name for humans, but it felt right to him.

He did not speak with anyone but his snake friends for many years.
**
He was now seventeen years of age. This was the age that Fearcra had told him his magic would properly stabilise. Neither knew why it was this age, but Salazar did not care. All he knew, was that he was now practically an adult in the eyes of magic.

It was now Samhain. He was sitting by his fire, asking the gods for a safe winter and a good year.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps. He stood instantly, turning to the noise.

From between the trees walked a woman. She was beautiful, with long deep red hair, and kind emerald eyes. There was something so... familiar about her.

Salazar held no weapon, as no arms were to be drawn on Samhain. He was not even sure if his magic counted as a weapon. So he had no way to defend himself.

"Good evening." He greeted. "What brings a lone woman so far from the nearest settlement?"

The woman smiled at him.

"I am looking for someone, to celebrate Samhain with." She replied. Her voice was so elegant, so gentle.

Salazar stared at the woman. Now that he looked more closely, he could sense it. Magic. This woman felt so powerful. So much more powerful than either he or Fearcra.

"Well then," He began. "Please, come seat with me. Share my fire and my food without any obligations."

The woman's smile widened.

"Thank you." She replied, sitting down beside Salazar.

Salazar retook his seat and turned to the woman.

"My name is..." He began.

"I already know who you are, Salazar." She replied. "I have watched over you for all of your life."

Salazar stiffened. Who was this woman?

"Well, may I know who you are?" He asked.

"I am Brigit, of the Tuatha Dé Danann." The woman, no, goddess, replied.

Salazar felt a flutter in his chest. One of the gods was currently sitting at his fire. More importantly, it was Brigit. The goddess that Fearcra often said had blessed him greatly.

He fell to his knees.

"My lady, I..."

Brigit put her hands upon his shoulders.

"Please, you do not have to be so formal with me." She said gently.

Salazar sucked in a deep breath. With Brigit's guidance, he returned to his seated position.

"May I ask why you have come to me?" He asked.

Brigit smiled sadly.

"I would have come to you sooner, however, my mother the Morrigan forbad me until you came of age." She began.

Brigit began fiddling with her fingers. If Salazar didn't know any better, he would say she was nervous.

"There is something you must know, about who you are, about who you were." She continued.

She sucked in a deep breath.

"For millennia, I suffered from being bound to a cruel husband, Bres. I... I did at first love him, but he emotionally manipulated me into remaining with him, even after he was returned to the Tuatha Dé Danann, much to everyone's anger. I should have left him after he betrayed us, and after he turned our son against my people."

Her fists clenched, and the fire flickered dangerously.

"In any case, just over two decades ago, I finally mustered the strength to leave him. After much consideration, I decided that my son deserved a second chance at life, after all this time. Hence, I had him reincarnated as a mortal child."

Salazar was shaking. It couldn't be, could it?

"What... What are you saying?" He asked.

Brigit grasped his hands in hers.

"What I am saying Salazar," She began. "Is that you were once Ruadán, my son."

Salazar jerked back in surprise. No, it couldn't be. He could not be the reincarnation of... Of Brigit's child. He knew the stories. He knew that Ruadán was a traitor. He couldn't be a traitor.

And if Brigit truly cared for him, then where had she been his entire life?

And then he remembered. Morrigan had forbad her from seeing him until this point. It was quite possible that she even cast a geas upon Brigit.

And then he remembered the flames. How instead of burning him, they held him, like a mother's embrace...

"It was you." He said in realisation. "When I was a child, and the villagers condemned me for witchcraft. You... You protected me."

"Of course I protected you." Brigit replied, stroking his face. "You are still my son, and I love you dearly."

She sucked in a breath.

"I did what I could to help you. I gave you the gift of fire, I protected you when those foolish mortals tried to kill you. And I assure you, the Samhain after they tried to do such a horrific act, I showed them the exact pain that they would have inflicted upon you."

Salazar did not know how to feel about this. Never before had anyone wished to take vengeance on his behalf.

Brigit continued.

"I guided you to the druid Fearcra, I helped bring forth your old memories in the form of dreams to help you adjust to the idea of your true heritage."

"Fearcra." He breathed. "How does he fare?"

Brigit smiled.

"He is well. I rewarded him greatly for how he cared for you. He is quite proud of you, just as I am."

Salazar smiled.

"That is good to hear." He replied.

He looked around.

"Now what?" He asked. "What shall we do, now that I know about... About my past as Ruadán?"

"Now," Brigit began. "You may return home with me, to the Otherworld."

Salazar sucked in a breath. Go to the Otherworld? To the land of the gods. He could meet the fae, he could see Fearcra again.

But then he realized. The fae could not leave the Otherworld, except for Samhain.

"Will I... Will I be able to return to the mortal world?" He asked.

Brigit sighed and looked down.

"No, you shall be bound by the same rules as the rest of our kin."

Salazar sucked in a breath.

"Then I am truly sorry, but I cannot come with you. Not yet at least. I have... Plans, I wish to fulfill."

He had been thinking of them for quite a while. Something he dearly wished for.

"I wish... To build a sanctuary, where children can be safe to learn to harness their gifts without facing the flames of prosecution. I wish for no more children to face the same pain or worse as I did. I cannot do this from the Otherworld."

Brigit smiled sadly.

"I understand." She replied.

Salazar nodded.

"Thank you."

There was of course, another reason for him not wanting to return to the Otherworld. He was afraid how the rest of the gods would react to him. After all, while Brigit may love him, they would most likely still see him as Ruadán, the traitor.

He wished to prove he was not the same person. He wished to atone for the treachery of Ruadán.

Brigit squeezed his hand.

"Your journey will be long and hard." She began. "However, there are more like minded individuals who may help you."

"Truly?" Salazar asked.

Brigit nodded.

"You shall meet three others, and together the four of you shall build a legacy which will last for centuries to come."

She sucked in a deep breath.

"One shall be of high birth, from the land now called Scotland. Another shall be of Saxon birth, and have the more unfortunate weakness of many of our family. And the third shall appear as one thing to you, but be completely different upon further inspection. You shall know who they are when you find them. I shall help you the best I can."

She then wrapped her arms around him. Salazar tensed for a few seconds, before relaxing in the warm embrace.

"Know that I will always love you, my son." She said. "And may Danu watch over you."

"Thank you." Salazar breathed.

Brigit pulled back.

"I must go now." She began. "But know, I am always with you."

She caressed his face one more time, before turning and disappearing beyond the trees.

It was this meeting which began Salazar on his greatest journey.
**
After several months of travel, he found the first of his destined companions. He did not know why, but for months he had felt... something, inside of him, drawing him in a particular direction.

And now here he was. He watched from behind a tree as one man stood off against around six others. The man in question had long wild hair of fire and gold. He seemed well dressed, if a bit unkempt. He seemed to be trying to persuade the six men confronting him not to kill him.

"Now, there is no need for all of this." The man began. "I am sure we can come to an understanding."

"No, not this time." One of the men replied angrily.

"You've gone too far you craven filth." Another added.

The man sighed.

"Fine." He muttered, before he raised what appeared to be a normal sword. However, on further inspection, Salazar could see a stone in the pommel. A stone which radiated magic.

So this man was a sorcerer.

Rather unsubtly, the sorcerer summoned a burst of energy and blew the men onto their backs. After some inspection, they appeared to be unconscious.

Salazar decided to make his appearance.

"Well done." He drawled sarcastically. "Very subtle in deed."

The man turned to him, sword raised.

Salazar raised his hands.

"Please, I mean you no harm." He continued. "It has been a while since I met another magic user. Please, come with me back to my campsite. I highly doubt you would be welcomed back into the village, even if these men didn't spread the word that you have magic once they woke."

After a few seconds of hesitation, the man put his sword away.

"Very well, but may I know your name?" He asked.

"Give me yours, and I may give you mine." Salazar retorted.

The man let out a booming laugh. He then smiled and held out his hand.

"My name is Godric."

Salazar shook the man's, Godric's, hand.

"Salazar." He replied.

"Strange name." Godric commented.

Salazar shrugged.

"The tale of how I got such a name is long and complicated." He replied. "But come, it shall be dark soon, and I am sure you must be hungry."

He lead Godric to his campsite. After a few minutes, they were both settled.

"So," Salazar began. "May I ask what that little confrontation was for?"

Godric rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I may have slept with one or two or well... all, of their wives."

Salazar sighed. It appeared that the unfortunate weakness that one of his destined companions shared with Brigit's family, was their promiscuity.

"Well then," Salazar continued. "Tell me more about yourself."

For the next few hours, they spoke of their lives. Salazar of course left out the more painful parts, and of his past life. Salazar had to admit, Godric may be a fool, but he felt he could work with this.

After a while, Salazar brought up the most important subject.

"Well," He began. "I have been considering lately. The world is dangerous for people like us. The church would have us burnt at the stake, the non-magicals hunt us like animals, all due to fear of what they do not understand. Hence, I have thought of a solution. A sanctuary where our kind may learn in peace and safety."

Godric stroked his beard.

"That does sound interesting.“ He began. "I am sure the Wizards Council will not mind such an establishment."

Salazar nodded.

"However, I cannot do this alone. I am currently seeking people who, like my self, wish to build a place to educate and protect our own, without fear of the church. People who could help me build a legacy."

"And you believe I could be one of these people?" Godric asked.

Salazar nodded.

"Great." Godric said happily. "When do we begin."

"First," Salazar said, smiling amusedly. "We must find our other two companions."

Godric blinked.

"Other two?" He asked.

"Of course." Salazar replied. "Last Samhain, when I asked the gods for guidance, they informed me that I shall need three more companions. And then, they guided me to you."

This had been the story he had come up with, to explain why he chose these people specifically.

"Well then," Godric began. "I suppose we have a long journey ahead of us."

Salazar nodded.

"Let us rest for the night. Then, we shall head off in the morrow."

Salazar smiled as they laid to rest. Godric may seem like a fool, but Salazar could tell he had a good heart. Perhaps, they could even become friends.
**
It was several weeks before they found the next companion. Salazar and Godric stumbled upon a very familiar seen to how the former found the latter. However, the man was already engaged in combat with his assailants.

"Dam, he is a fine warrior." Godric observed.

Salazar nodded.

"Just look at how he wields that Dane Axe."

After only a few more minutes, all of the assailants were dead, and the man with the Dane axe stood alone, wiping sweat from his brow. He let out a breath and kicked one of the corpses.

"Perverted filth."

Came a very feminine voice. Godric was openly surprised.

"She's a woman?" He said in a voice which was louder than necessary.

The woman turned to where Salazar and Godric hid.

"Who goes there?" She demanded, hefting the axe.

Now that Salazar got a better look at her, he could see the feminine features. Her long straw coloured hair was braided down her back. She wore a tunic and trouser, stained with dirty and blood. Salazar could admit, she looked rather attractive, and rather terrifying.

"Not as they seem in deed." He muttered.

Salazar slowly slipped out from their hiding spot, Godric following close behind.

"My apologies, we did not mean to startle you." He began.

"We were just surprised that a woman could be so skilled in combat." Godric blurted out.

Salazar resisted the urge to slap him.

"Why, do you think me too weak to hold my own?" The woman demanded, raising her axe.

"Please, excuse my companion, he is an idiot."

Godric huffed indignantly, but he ignored him.

"I believe what he meant was, you are rather skilled in combat and we both admire such prowess from any, not just because you are a woman." He continued, attempting to calm the woman.

It somehow worked. She lowed the axe, but kept a tight grip on it.

"Well then, that sounds better." She replied.

Salazar nodded.

"It is especially incredible, for surely your magic could be just as great a weapon."

The woman stiffened.

"I would not know what you are speaking of." She said defensively.

Salazar held up his hand and summoned a flame. The fire danced along his palm.

"I assure you, we will not harm you for your gift, as we share in such a blessing."

The woman visibly relaxed.

"Well then," She began. "I suppose you and your idiot companion may as well come and join me at my fire. No doubt my own companion is becoming concerned for my long absence."

Salazar nodded.

"But first, I believe we should introduce ourselves. My name is Salazar, and my companion is Godric."

The woman nodded as she shook his hand. He noticed that it was ruff and calloused.

"I am Helga." She replied.

Salazar nodded.

"You are a Dane then?" He asked as they followed Helga to her campsite.

"Partly." She replied. "My father was a Danish trader, and my mother was from Wales. It was my father who taught me how to fight."

Salazar nodded.

"And what of your companion?" He asked.

Helga smirked.

"Rowena? Oh, she is a noblewoman who had to leave her nice castle to protect her family from the prosecution of the church. She still hasn't gotten use to living off of the land, but she is rather intelligent, and a fast learner."

Godric, not one to be silent for long, burst in.

"Why were those men attacking you?" He asked.

Helga frowned.

"Let's see, a band of foolish men attacking a supposedly defenseless woman. Why do you think they would attack me?" She said sarcastically.

This shut Godric up.

They soon reached a campsite, where sat a pale woman with long reddish brown hair. As soon as they entered, she stood and rushed over to Helga.

"Helga, what took you so long?" She demanded. "I thought you were planning to gather food."

"I was." Helga replied. "But then some bandits decided to take advantage of an innocent woman. Do not worry Rowena, I took care of them."

The woman, Rowena, sagged in relief. Her gaze then turned to the two men.

"And who are these?" She asked.

"These are Salazar and Godric." Helga replied. "They are magical, like ourselves. I offered for them to join us at our campfire."

Rowena nodded, her eyes curious.

"Well then, please, take a seat."

From there the conversation began. They discussed various things, how they all came to find their particular companions, what their lives were like before then, Salazar of course edited his slightly. And finally, Salazar found an opening to breach the most important subject.

"I have been thinking for some time," He began. "The world is dangerous for people like us. We are so often hunted like animals and slaughtered for merely being different. What we need is a sanctuary. A place where we may safely teach our kind to harness their powers to protect themselves from prosecution."

Rowena and Helga nodded.

"That is indeed, something we were also considering." Rowena replied. "However, we are only two, and this may be quite a large endeavour."

"Well then, now we are four." Godric replied. "And I am sure that with our combined strength, we can succeed in this."

They all looked around at each other. Salazar studied the three around him.

It was this night, which would mark the beginning of something grand.
**
For the next year, they wondered about the land, planning and getting to know each other. At some point, Rowena even convinced himself and Helga to learn how to read and write. She had already had the skill, as her parents were quite insistent that all of their children, regardless of gender, learn this important skill. And Godric already knew the basics from his life as the son of a merchant. After all, how else would they keep stock? But Rowena did convince him to improve his skills.

Their main concern was where to have their sanctuary. They thought of everything from old hillforts to even building a cavern underground. But nothing stuck.

Then, Rowena came up with a solution.

"My family have a very old abandoned castle." She began. "Perhaps, after some renovations, we could use it for our sanctuary."

Salazar turned to Helga and Godric.

"It may work." He began.

"We shall have to ward it, along with the repairs." Helga added. "But at least we shall have the foundations."

Godric grinned.

"Well then, let us proceed to this abandoned castle."
**
The castle was filthy, and well in need for repairs. It took them almost two years with their magic to get it in suitable condition.

During this time, they also began planning. They planned to take responsibility for the wellbeing of a group of apprentices each, but educate them all so they may receive a diverse education. They would use magic to track down any child born to non-magical families, and have scouts go and retrieve the child before they could be prosecuted. Salazar was particularly strict about this.

When they finally sent a letter detailing their plans to the Wizards council, they received their approval, but a warning of consequences if this were to fail.

Finally, the castle was ready for inhabitance, and they were ready to accept apprentices.
**
On the first day, there were around a hundred apprentices. Many were from magical families, but still more were from non-magical ones. The latter group were staring around the hall with wander and fear.

The number of apprentices was larger than they had originally thought. They would be dividing them, based on how their temperament would work with the teachers. Rowena would take those who loved learning, much as she did. Godric would have those who were brave and noble. Salazar would take those who valued ambition and cunning. And as for Helga, while she valued loyalty and hard work, she would be willing to accept anyone.

When the apprentices were all gathered, Salazar called for them to be quiet and listen. He along with his friends stood.

"Thank you all for coming." He began. "I am sure you are all curious. From what I have observed, there has never been an establishment such as ours. Or at least in this land."

"Here, you may learn to harness your powers for good, and how to protect yourselves from those who would see us burnt at the stake." Rowena continued.

"I am sure many of you are nervous. But I assure you, this is a safe place. No one will hurt you here. And any bullying between yourselves will not be tolerated." Helga added.

"Please, while we may be your teachers, we also wish for you to confide us as if we our family. If you have any problems, do not hesitate to come to us." Godric finished.

They all smiled as they watched the apprentices talk excitedly amongst themselves.

"Well, here we go." Godric said.

Salazar smiled. He knew the beginning would be difficult, but he also knew it would be worth it.

Helga brushed her hand against his. He smiled. Over the last few years, they had become particularly close. Salazar did not know why, but he just seemed so drawn to her.

"Are you ready?" She asked, grinning.

Salazar grinned in return.

"As ready as I shall ever be."
**
Salazar looked upon the apprentices before him. They were a mix of each of the apprentice groups they were responsible for. They did not wish to segregate anyone. Hence why all the classes were mixed.

Salazar cleared his throat.

"My name is Salazar." He began. "I shall be educating you in the art of druidry. This includes natural magic, potion brewing, healing, and divining the future."

He sat on the ground and gestured for them all to do the same.

"In druidry, you shall work with the four elements." He continued. "Earth, fire, air and water. It is important to know that we all have some affinity for one of the elements. For example, I am strongest when I draw my power from fire. However, this does not mean you can not still draw power from the other three elements. For example, all druids have a connection in some way shape or form to the earth. To demonstrate, let us meditate and concentrate on our inner magic."

Salazar smiled as his apprentices closed their eyes and began to focus on their magic. He could sense they were connecting with the earth, some more so than others. He could sense the magic in the air. He could tell they would be powerful, with the right guidance.
**
About a week in, he was sitting with Helga in the garden she had worked hard to grow. It was a strange combination of magical and non-magical plants. It was beautiful, in Salazar's opinion.

"Well, how do you feel this week went?" Helga asked.

"I believe it went well," He replied. "They are all gifted. Many, the majority being from non-magical families, seem to lack confidence in their abilities. However, I am sure we can soon make them comfortable enough to accept their power and reach their full potential."

Helga nodded.

"I agree. I have also noticed many suffer from night terrors."

Salazar nodded, frowning.

"I too have seen this. I have had many a visitor during the nights who needed comforting.

Helga clenched her fists.

"It is horrible, how they could treat innocent children like this." She spat.

Salazar sighed.

"Fear makes people do horrible things." He replied sadly.

"But even the parents..." Helga continued.

Salazar shook his head.

"Some people simply do not deserve to be parents."

Helga clutched his hand. She met his eyes.

"Salazar, I must know, were you a victim of prosecution?"

Salazar stiffened. He had not yet told his friends of his past. Of how his old village tried to burn him at the stake.

"What gave you that impression?" He asked hesitantly.

"How much you seem to despise the church." Helga replied. "And you always get so angered whenever we even mention the prosecution of our kind."

She raised a hand.

"You do not have to tell me, if you do not wish to..."

Salazar shook his head.

"No, no. It is fine."

He sucked in a breath.

"I was around six years of age. I had been trying to heal another child who had injured themselves. I did not understand my power at the time. All I knew was that I wished to help them."

He shuddered.

"I remember the yelling, the screaming. I remember calling out for my parents to save me, but they would not listen. I was already dead to them."

Helga wrapped her arms around him. It was nice, and he feared what would happen if anyone, particularly Godric, were to find them.

But he soon did not care. He could smell Helga's hair. It smelt of earth and flowers and, for some reason, steel.

"Oh Salazar, that is horrible." She said.

Salazar patted her hair.

"I know, but do not worry. I decided long ago not to focus on vengeance. Instead, I shall ensure non will have to suffer as I did."

Helga sat up.

"But how did you escape?" She asked.

Salazar smiled.

"When the pier lit, the fire burnt away my bonds, but not me."

"How?" She asked.

"I was blessed." Salazar replied simply. "On that day, Lady Brigit, Goddess of fire, healing, spring, and so many other things, made me immune to the flames. She protected me, for she knew I was destined for a glorious purpose."

It was half the truth. He was still not ready to tell them of his past life. It filled him with guilt to have to lie to his friends, especially Helga, but he had no other choice.
**
They continued like this. They would teach the apprentices, sleep in quarters close to their assigned charges so they may be accessible at any time. He and Helga regularly met to speak of various things, from how well the sanctuary was coming along, to little things such as what they enjoyed teaching, what they did in their free time, and even little rants about history. Helga was quite a fan of the shieldmaidens of her father's people, but also seemed to be a huge fan of more Celtic women, such as the legendary Queen Maibh of Connacht, and even the infamous Boudicca.

He enjoyed the conversations. He still did not know why he felt so drawn to her. Perhaps it was because she reminded him of Brigit, his first mother. She was just as kind as she was fierce and intimidating, just as Brigit was.

It took Godric of all people to make him realise what he felt.
**
One evening, several months after they had opened their sanctuary, He was just walking through the halls, minding his own business. When suddenly, Godric stepped in front of him.

"We must speak, now." He said.

Before Salazar could blink, Godric had dragged him into an empty room.

"Godric, what in the name of Danu is wrong with you?" He demanded.

Godric turned to him.

"We have a problem." He began.

"Yes, you still do not know how to behave like a mature adult." Salazar retorted.

"Not me, you." Godric argued.

"And what do you believe is wrong with me?" Salazar asked.

Godric met his eyes.

"I have seen how you are with Helga." He began.

Salazar nodded.

"She is a good woman. She cares for the apprentices, just as we all do. I enjoy her company."

Godric nodded.

"That much is obvious." He replied. "However, I do not believe you truly realise what is happening."

"I do not know what you are referring to." Salazar retorted.

Godric rolled his eyes.

"And you call me a fool." He muttered. "Salazar, it is obvious that you are in love with her."

Salazar froze. He thought for a long time.

Was he in love with Helga? He did enjoy her company. He loved to hear her laugh, to feel her hand clutch his tightly. He adored her fiery nature, her kindness, her inner strength...

Oh, by the gods, he was in love with her.

"Salazar?" Godric asked, breaking him from his inner turmoil.

Salazar sucked in a breath.

"You must not tell anyone." He said quickly.

"But..." Godric began.

"No." Salazar said. "I do not care what you think, it will never work between us."

And with that, he left the room, and a very shocked Godric, behind.

Salazar knew it would never work. Helga valued loyalty above all else. If she were to find out who he truly had been, that he had once been a traitor, then any feelings she may feel for him would vanish instantly.
**
Salazar had thought this would be the end of it. However, after about six months, he was pulled into an empty room. He drew on his magic defensively, until he discovered it was Helga.

He sagged in relief.

"Helga, what are you..."

"There is something I need to tell you." She began.

Salazar observed, with some surprise, that she was nervous.

"We may as well get this over with." She continued. "You and I have been becoming closer, and I... I believe we both know that we have come to feel... Differently towards each other."

Salazar sucked in a breath.

"Helga, I..."

"No, listen." Helga interrupted. "I know that you are aware of these feelings. But what I wish to know is, why have you not acted upon them?"

Salazar sighed.

"I am sorry, Helga. But even if we did both feel the same, we could never work out."

"And why not?" Helga demanded.

"There are things you do not know about me. Things that, if you did know, you would turn your back on me for certain." He replied.

Helga frowned.

"What things?"

Salazar sucked in a breath. Well, it was now or never. Truthfully, he was slightly relieved. He was tired of hiding this from the people he considered his dearest friends.

And so he told her, of his meeting with Brigit, of his past life. At the end of it, he slumped forward, awaiting the rejection.

However, it never came. Instead, she wrapped an arm around him. He stared up at her in surprise.

"Helga?" He asked.

"Why did you not tell me earlier?" She asked gently.

"I thought... I thought that if you knew who I had once been, then you would hate me." He replied.

Helga shook her head.

"You are a fool." She replied. "Why would I hate you?"

"Because Ruadán was a traitor." Salazar said. "And I thought that, because you value loyalty so much..."

"That I would hate you for the sins of your past life?" Helga asked. "Salazar, I love you. I would never condemn you for something that was in a past life."

"Really?" He asked, hope blooming in his chest.

"Really." Helga replied, leaning into him.
**
Several hours later, they both lay on the cool stone floor, completely naked. He and Helga were a tangle of limbs. He could feel her breath tickling his neck.

"That was..." He began.

"Incredible." Helga finished.

"Thank you." He said quietly. "For accepting me."

"Salazar, you are not guilty for the crimes for your past life." Helga replied, stroking his face.

They were then interrupted by a loud voice.

"There the two of you ar... Oh."

They looked up in surprise to see Godric, his eyes wide, staring at them. Helga squeaked and hid behind Salazar, who glared at Godric.

"Do you mind?" He growled.

Godric held up his hands.

"My apologies. Please, forget I was even here."

Godric then winked at Salazar, before leaving.

Salazar sighed.

"Well, everyone shall know soon."

"Who cares?“ Helga retorted as she snuggled into his side. "I care not who knows of our love."

Salazar smiled as he wrapped an arm around her.

"Do you think I should tell Godric and Rowena of my other secret?" He asked.

"Of course." Helga replied. "But for now, how about we go another round."

Salazar grinned.

"As my lady commands."
**
Rowena and Godric stared at him.

"So, let me get this strate." Rowena began. "You are the reincarnation of Ruadán, the son of Brigit and Bres. And when you were offered the chance to return to the land of the gods, you declined."

Salazar nodded.

"I wished to use my power to help others of our kind." He replied. "And anyway, I highly doubt many among the Tuatha Dé Danann would accept me, not after my treachery."

Godric clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Well, who cares what they think?" He said firmly. "I know you are a good man, and one I am proud to call my friend."

Rowena and Helga nodded in agreement. Salazar could feel tears pooling in his eyes.

"Thank you, all of you."

He looked around at his three friends. No, they were more than friends now. They were his family.
**
It had now been three years since they had opened their sanctuary. Now, Salazar was showing his companions a secret project of his.

"This, is my secret chamber." He began. "It is meant to be a hide out, just in case the castle becomes under siege."

"This is incredible." Rowena said as they were lead through room after room.

He showed them the meeting room, where they could sit in privacy and discuss whatever they wished. He showed them his private study, his potion laboratory, and the room he wished to make into a libruary, much to Rowena's delight.

Finally, they reached his favorite chamber. His crowning achievement.

His friends gasped as they saw the chamber.

"This," He began. "Is my shrine. We may come here to pay our respects to the gods, and ask for their protection."

They all wondered around, staring at the varouious statues.

"These are well crafted." Rowena observed.

"This must have taken you so long to carve." Godric added.

Helga walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him as they both stared at the head statue.

"You put Brigit at the head of the gathering." She observed.

Salazar nodded.

"I wished to honor her most of all." He replied quietly.

Helga laced her fingers through his hair.

"Of course, she is your mother after all."

Salazar smiled. Over the past few years, his family had assisted him greatly in reconciling with his past. While he still preferred to think of himself and Ruadán as completely separate people, he also liked to think of Brigit as his mother.

He smiled as he began to play with Helga's braid. Life was good.
**
A few weeks later, they received a visitor. It was a wizard from the distant land of Normandy. His name was Robert, and he seemed well educated. Salazar thought he was rather arogant, but Rowena seemed to like him.

Salazar put up with him for a bit. Until he did something that was absolutely unforgivable in his eyes.

He was in the garden one day, when he heard a low voice. It was the Norman, Robert. He was muttering something. Salazar decided to ignore it, until he heard some of the words.

A very familiar chant he remembered from his earliest years.

Now, he understood that some of the non-magically born children may grasp onto their old religion. But they quickly let go of it once they accepted the god they had always known would not accept them for their magic.

But to hear a grown man chanting these prayers...

Salazar turned the corner and rounded on him.

"What are you doing?" He demanded.

He saw that Robert was holding a silver cross. Salazar had to suck in deep breaths to calm himself.

"Oh, excuse me." The Norman said, not sounding sorry in the least. "I like to keep up the practice, for when I must blend into the non-magicals."

Salazar nodded stiffly.

"I understand, but perhaps it would also be best for you to pay your respects to the gods. It would not be wise to anger them."

Much to Salazar's anger, the Norman laughed.

"Oh, you still believe in those little fairytales." Robert said in a very condescending tone.

"Of course I do. And they are not fairytales." Salazar retorted.

Robert laughed again.

"Oh come now, you are intelligent. Surely you are wise enough to know that the gods, if they ever existed, are dead."

Salazar clenched his fists. He was resisting the urge to do something incredibly stupid.

"That may be what you think." He spat. "But do not let the gods hear you say such words. They do not like being disrespected."
**
Later that evening, he confronted Rowena about the little Norman problem.

"Robert must go." He said firmly. "I have put up with him for months, and this afternoon, I discovered something that cannot be forgiven."

Rowena sighed.

"What could ever be wrong with Robert?" She asked.

Salazar clenched his fists.

"He is arrogant, he looks down on us all, and most of all, he does not respect the gods." He spat.

Rowena raised an eyebrow.

"He is perfectly pleasant towards me." She argued calmly. "I find him quite intelligent, and we have become quite close."

Salazar narrowed his eyes.

"How close?" He asked suspiciously.

The pink in Rowena's face was all the answer he needed.

"You fancy him." He said in realisation.

"No, I..." Rowena began, but Salazar interrupted.

"He is not right for you, Rowena. He will hurt you." He said.

Rowena shook her head.

"You do not know him like I do."

Salazar shook his head.

"Please Rowena, listen to reason."

Rowena huffed and turned away.

"He loves me, you will see. He said he shall give me some books his family had, dating back to the libruary of Alexandria."

Salazar sighed and shook his head. Rowena was remarkably stubborn at times. But he knew that when that Norman swine hurt his sister in everything but blood, he, Godric and Helga would be their to help her and avenge her honor.
**
Robert left a few months later, and never returned. Rowena wrote to him constantly, but the replies did not seem to please her.

One day, he found Rowena crying in the garden, Helga holding her comfortingly.

"What happened?" He demanded.

Helga glared at the ground.

"That Norman bastard." She growled.

"What did he do now?" Salazar asked, coming to sit beside the distraught Rowena and wrapping his arm around her.

Rowena looked up at him.

"You were right, he is horrible." She spat.

Salazar rubbed her back comfortingly.

"I am with child."

Salazar stiffened at the words.

"And Robert, he is the father." He guessed.

Rowena nodded.

"I thought he would be pleased at the news. But you know what he told me?"

"What?" Salazar asked gently.

"He said he did not wish to be burdened with a bastard, and to only send the child when they came of age, and only then if they were a boy."

Salazar clenched his fist.

"How dare that despicable excuse for a man." He growled. "I can travel to Normandy right now and give you his head within weeks."

Rowena shook her head.

"No, don't. I... I will be fine."

Helga grasped her hand.

"You don't need him." She said. "We will raise that child right."

Rowena smiled.

"Thank you."
**
Several months later, Rowena gave birth to a healthy girl. They all stood around the new mother and smiled now at the child.

"She is so beautiful." Helga said.

"Thank you." Rowena replied, smiling tiredly.

Godric clapped a hand on her shoulder.

"Do not worry about that Norman Rowena. We will find you a proper man."

Rowena shook her head.

"You know, I am done with men." She replied firmly. "Not you or Salazar, of course. But I feel I wish to focus more on the apprentices, and my daughter."

"Speaking of which, have you decided on a name?" Salazar asked.

Rowena nodded.

"Her name is Helena." She replied.

They all smiled down at little Helena.

"I am sure the apprentices will love her." Godric said, smiling.

"A shame there are not more closer to her age." Salazar added.

"Oh, there shall be some soon." Helga replied, grinning.

"What do you mean?" Salazar asked.

Helga replied by grabbing his hand and placing it over her stomach.

"Let's just say, our evenings together have been quite productive in more ways than one."

Salazar felt his mind freeze. Wait, was she saying that...? No, it couldn't be, could it?

The last thing he heard was Godric's cheering, before the floor rushed up to meet him, and the world became black.
**
A few weeks after the revelation that he and Helga were to become parents, Salazar was leading her through the gardens.

"I have been thinking," He began. "Helga, it is wonderful. I... Just do not know what to say. You have given me so much joy over the past years, and I do not know how I can ever repay you."

"You do not have to repay anything." Helga retorted. "All I want is your love."

Salazar smiled.

"And I give it freely. But now, I must ask something of you."

He turned to her and in one fluid motion, he was on his knees before her.

"Helga Sigurddottir," He began. "You have made me feel more happiness than I could ever imagine. You accepted me, regardless of my faults, and for that I will forever be gratefully. Soon, you shall give me one of the greatest gifts, a child of our own. But now, I simply ask you for one more thing. I ask you for your hand, for us to be bound together in the eyes of man and gods."

Tears sparkled in Helga's eyes. Before Salazar could blink, she was upon him. They rolled around in the grass, tearing off each other clothes.

"I shall take that as a yes?" Salazar asked when they were finished.

Helga chuckled.

"Of course, you loveable fool."

They were quickly married. They combined Celtic and Norse traditions, to honor Helga's mixed heritage. Godric and Rowena arranged a grand ceremony, with all the apprentices in attendance.

It was incredible. Salazar could honestly say it was one of the best days of his life. He was forever bound to the woman he loved, and his family was there to see it.

And soon, he would greet his child.
**
Salazar paced outside the door where Rowena and some other women were tending to Helga in her childbirth. Salazar flinched at every scream.

He tried to calm himself down by praying.

"Please Mhathair." He muttered, praying to his mother, the goddess of healing and childbirth. "Help my beloved Helga through her pain."

Eventually, the screaming stopped, only to be replaced by new cries. The cries of a child.

As soon as the door was opened, Salazar raced inside.

And there was Helga, drenched in sweat but smiling. In her arms she held a buddle.

Within seconds, he was beside her.

"Helga, are you well?" He asked.

"As well as I can be." Helga replied. "Now, come meet our son."

Salazar sucked in a breath. With shaking hands, he accepted his child, his son.

He looked down with teary eyes into the face of his son.

"He is so, beautiful." He said in amazement.

"Our son Salazar." Helga said. "Hopefully the first of many."

They sat there in silence for a long time, staring at their newborn son.

"What should we call him?" Helga asked.

"I believe I have the perfect name." Salazar replied. "Sigurd, in honor of your father."

Helga smiled widely. Salazar knew how much she had loved her father, and how she missed him dearly.

"Thank you." She breathed.

Salazar smiled. He vowed then and there that he would raise his son right. He would teach him to be good, and kind, and loyal. Not like his mortal father, and certainly not like Bres.
**
One night, he was tending to little Sigurd. Helga was exhausted from the day, so he decided to let her sleep while he took care of their son.

He was walking through the halls when he heard weeping. It sounded like one of the apprentices.

Salazar frowned. All the apprentices should be in bed by now.

He shifted Sigurd in his arms and went to investigate the sound.

It was one of the newer apprentices, Alfred, if he remembered correctly. Salazar knew that the scouts had only just saved him from being burnt. The poor child had the scars to prove it.

He cleared his throat, drawing the child's attention. Alfred looked up at him, startled.

"May I sit here." Salazar asked calmly, gesturing to a spot on the ground next to the child.

Alfred nodded.

"I am sorry I am out of bed sir, I just..." Alfred cut himself off.

"Night terrors?" Salazar asked soothingly.

Alfred merely nodded.

"Do not worry, you are not the first, and you will not be the last." He continued.

Alfred blinked away some tears.

"I just do not understand." He said. "I thought they loved me. How could they turn on me?"

Salazar sighed.

"Fear can make monsters out of the best of people." He replied.

Alfred looked down.

"But they were my family." He muttered.

Salazar placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"We are your family now." He said. "And we shall never turn on you."

Alfred looked up at him, hope in his eyes.

"Really?" He asked.

Salazar nodded. Little Alfred was not the first of their apprentices to have suffered such trauma, and he knew he would not be the last.

Salazar vowed to protect all the children he could. And as he looked down at his son, he promised the infant that Salazar would do everything in his power to ensure he would never suffer the flame of prosecution.
**
Salazar sat, watching his son play in the fields. Sigurd was now two, and a very active boy.

He loved playing in the long grass, and Salazar was careful to keep a close eye on him.

However, on this day, it did not stop the child from finding something truly dangerous.

Salazar could hear Sigurd hissing. It had been amusing to discover that the gift he had accidentally created with his magic had been passed on to his son. However, now he could hear the child having a conversation with a snake he found in the grass. Salazar decided to investigate, as last time, Sigurd had ended up finding a very venomous snake, and Helga had banish Salazar to the field for the next month. Salazar had become quite accustomed to sleeping in a bed, so it was rather hard to return to the cold hard ground.

However, the snake which his son was speaking to was far worse.

He immediately jumped upon Sigurd, covering the boy's eyes. For what slithered in the grass was a very young basilisk.

Salazar was not sure how a basilisk got into the grounds. All he knew was he had to get his son as far away from it as possible.

He called out to one of the apprentices, and handed Sigurd to him.

"Go to Helga, now." He demanded.

The apprentice ran off with Sigurd in his arms. Salazar sighed in relief.

"Now, what to do with you." He mused, staring at the basilisk.
**
"You what?" Helga demanded as he met with the other three later that evening.

Salazar held up his hands.

"Do not worry, the basilisk is safely hidden in my secret chamber." He said soothingly.

"I personally think it is a wonderful idea." Rowena cut in. "The more security, the better."

Godric nodded.

"And if anyone can tame a snake, it's Salazar."

Helga sighed.

"Fine, but if any of the apprentices gets hurt, I shall be hold you accountable." She said, glaring at Salazar.

Salazar nodded meekly. It was best not to argue with his wife.
**
Sigurd was five, when Salazar and Helga were blessed with another child.

Salazar smiled down at his wife and their newborn daughter.

"She is so beautiful." She breathed.

"Just like her mother." Salazar replied. "And I am sure she will be just as terrifying."

Helga chuckled.

"Well, I have the perfect name for her." She began. "Brigit, in honor of your mother."

Salazar blinked in surprise. Then, a smile split across his face.

"That is wonderful." He said. "Thank you."

Soon, a little head was peaking around the door.

"Sigurd, come in." Helga called. "Come meet your sister."

The little boy entered the room slowly. He approached the bed.

"This, is your sister." Salazar said, wrapping an arm around his son. "Her name is Brigit."

Sigurd stared at Brigit.

"She is so small." He said.

Salazar laughed.

"You were just as small when you were first born." He replied.

"Can I hold her?" Sigurd asked.

"Of course." Helga replied. "Come here."

Helga placed Sigurd in her lap, and gently passed the little Brigit to him.

Salazar smiled at his little family. Never had he thought he could be so blessed. But now... He had a wife who loved him unconditionally, children who made him happy to be alive. Rowena was like a sister to him, always so wise and willing to give advice whenever she could. And Godric, even if he was a fool at times, was like his brother. Though they may argue, he knew that Godric would die for him, and he would do the same.

He was truly blessed to have such a family.
**
It was Samhain. They had just finished the usual ceremony, of honoring their dead and the gods. Salazar was sitting and watching the apprentices mingling, laughing, playing together. Helena and Sigurd played under the watchful eye of Rowena. The children had brought home too many dangerous little creatures, especially snakes, which they found interesting. Godric and Helga were supervising the apprentices, making sure none went off for some adolescent mischief. Helga held little Brigit on her hip, the infant looking around with curious blue eyes.

Salazar smiled. It was so peaceful. But unfortunately, his peaceful thoughts were broken by a little visitor.

There was a loud squawk. He turned to see a crow. Fiery, intelligent eyes stared at him. He had a sinking feeling he knew who this was.

The crow ruffled her feathers when she saw she had his attention. She then took off, Salazar following closely behind. It was clear to him that she wished to speak in private, and no one defied the Morrigan.

Once they reached a point where the pier of the Samhain celebrations were but lights in the distance, the crow landed and turned into a beautiful but intimidating woman.

"Good even Ruadán." The Morrigan said calmly.

"With all due respect, my lady, I prefer to be called by Salazar, the name I was given in this life." Salazar replied respectfully. It was best not to anger The Morrigan. She may technically be his grandmother through his mother, but she was still one of the most powerful of the Tuatha Dé Danann.

Morrigan nodded.

"Very well." She said. "However, I did not come here to discuss your preferred name."

Salazar nodded.

"May I ask why you are here?" He began.

"I have need of your assistance." Morrigan replied. "I require you to hide some objects which will be very important in the future."

Salazar frowned.

"May I ask why you would need my help? Surely you could conceal anything with such importance."

Morrigan nodded.

"That may be so, however, I have foreseen that they must specifically be hidden with you and your mortal companions."

"Why?" Salazar asked. "Surely..."

"Do not question me." Morrigan hissed dangerously.

Salazar stepped back, his hands raised.

"Excuse me My Lady. I did not mean to sound disrespectful." He said in an attempt to calm the Death Crow down.

Morrigan relaxed her shoulders.

"Very well. Will you agree to my intentions?" She asked.

Salazar nodded.

"Of course. I am honored that you would put such trust in my companions and I."

Morrigan nodded. She then waved her hand, and two objects appeared in her arms. A large stone, and a sword. A very familiar stone and sword.

Salazar's eyes widened as Morrigan handed the objects to him.

"Are these...?" He began.

Morrigan nodded.

"Keep them secret, keep them safe."

And before Salazar could say any more, Morrigan had returned to her crow form and had flown into the darkness.
**
Later that evening, he told his family about his conversation with the Morrigan and showed them the objects. They were all staring at the Stone of Destiny and the Sword of Nuada.

"So The Morrigan, wished for you to gard these?" Godric asked.

Salazar nodded.

"For all of us to gard them." He replied.

Rowena stared at them with curious eyes.

"So many enchantments, such ancient magic." She said in amazement. "They are so... So... Beautiful."

She looked up at Salazar.

"May I study them?" She asked hopefully.

Salazar stroked his beard in thought.

"Only if you swear to be extremely careful." He replied. "These are two of the sacred treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Any damage to them may be enough to begin a war."

Rowena nodded.

"I shall be as careful as humanly possible."

"So, where shall we hide them when Rowena is not busy with her studying?" Godric asked.

"Well," Salazar began. "I shall hide the stone in my secret chamber."

He then looked up to Godric.

"And as for the sword, well, I do not wish to hide both of them in the same place."

"Then where...?"

Godric was cut off when Salazar rose to his feet, picked up the sword, and handed it hilt first to the stunned sorcerer.

"What?" He asked, his eyes wide. "You wish to..."

Salazar nodded.

"Are you certain?" Godric continued.

"Yes, I agree with Godric." Helga cut in, Rowena nodded.

"I trust you, Godric." Salazar said seriously. "I was originally considering giving it to you Helga, however, I know how much you love your Dane Axe."

Helga nodded.

"Neither Rowena nor myself wild weapons other than our magic." Salazar continued. "You are the most likely one to wield a sword, and what better way to hide such an important object than to hide it in plain sight."

Godric stared at him with wonder in his eyes.

"Thank you." He said, unusually serious. "I shall gard this with my life."

Salazar nodded, smiling. He knew that despite his floors, Godric was a good and honorable man. He would stay by his word and gard the sword to his last breath.
**
One day, there was a strange development. A new apprentice turned up at their doors. This in of itself was not strange. The boy was around eight years of age, the same age as Salazar's own son, and was accompanied by his mother. They were both Danes, who sought sacntuary for parent and child both. This again, was not strange. Many parents stayed with their children, whether to ensure they were as safe as they had been informed, or due to needing to find a new place of residence.

However, what was strange was that it appeared this woman knew Godric. Salazar was with his brother in all but blood when they met the mother and child. Godric's eyes were wide with surprise.

"Gunhild." He began. "How do you fare?"

"As well as can be expected." The woman, Gunhild, replied.

"And I presume this is your son?" Godric continued.

"Yes, this is Cnute, our son."

Salazar was surprised. Honestly, he shouldn't be really. With all of Godric's affairs, it was only a matter of time before long lost offspring began appearing. It seemed to take Godric's mind a long time to realise what Gunhild had actually said.

"Well, it is... Wait, "our son"?" He asked, his eyes wide.

Gunhild nodded.

"I was not quite sure, but it was a bit obvious when he started showing sines of magic. Magnus was of course furious, which is why I also require sanctuary until I am able to find a safe place to stay."

Godric merely continued gaping. The boy, to, approached them nervously. He was staring at Godric with curiosity.

"Hello, father?" The child said in a questioning tone.

Godric was still speechless. Salazar decided to save his brother.

"It is a pleasure to meet you both." Salazar said. "I am Salazar, another of the teachers here. Do not mind Godric, I am sure that once he recovers from his shock, he will be delighted to get to know you more. As for now, perhaps it is best if we settled you in."

He gestured for one of the nearby apprentices to come over.

"Please, escort this child to the dormitories for his age-group, and his mother to the guestrooms." He requested.

The apprentice nodded, and gestured for the two to follow him. Once they were alone, Salazar turned to Godric.

"Godric?" He asked in concern. "Godric, Godric."

The man was still in shock. Salazar sighed. He summoned some water and splashed it on the man's head. Godric spluttered, before glaring at Salazar.

"I take it from your reaction, that you were not aware of having a child." Salazar said calmly.

Godric shook his head.

"It has been years since I saw Gunhild." He replied. "I was scouting in the areas ruled by the Danes for magical children, and Gunhild caught my eye. The two of us spent some time together, and let us just say she is quite..."

Salazar cleared his throat, not wishing to hear the details. Thankfully, Godric took the hint and proceeded with the more important part of his tale.

"Anyway, it was great. Then her husband came home."

"Did you know she had a husband?" Salazar asked.

Godric's expression was all the reply he needed.

"Godric." Salazar said in frustration. "What is with you and sleeping with married women?"

"Not all the women I sleep with are married." Godric said defensively.

Salazar raised an eyebrow.

"did I not first meet you being confronted by approximately half a dozen men who all claimed you had slept with their wives?"

"Still, that does not mean all the women I sleep with are married." Godric continued.

Salazar sighed.

"Honestly, I would not be surprised if you have slept with half of the women from here to Brittany."

Godric shrugged.

"I admit it, I have had many lovers over the years." He said. "I am honestly surprised that this is the first time I have heard of a long lost bastard."

"Well, one which has been acknowledged as yours." Salazar replied.

Godric's eyes widened.

"You do not think there are more?" He asked.

Salazar shrugged.

"Possibly. There may be plenty of your children among the apprentices alone."

Godric suddenly became nervous.

"How do I find them?" He asked desperately.

Salazar raised an eyebrow.

"Magic, obviously." He replied. "You can use your magic to sense those who share blood with you. Then, you can perform a paternity spell to make sure."

He then drew out a piece of spare parchment and the quill and inkwell he always kept on hand. After writing down a spell, using the wall as a support, he handed it to Godric.

"Please, do tell me when you are finished." He said. "I am curious to see the results."

Godric nodded, before running off to seek out his long lost offspring.
**
Later that evening, Salazar and Godric were sitting in his study.

"Well, how was your search?" Salazar asked.

Godric sucked in a shaking breath.

"Twelve."

Salazar gaped.

"Twelve?" He asked in shock.

Godric nodded.

"Four girls and eight boys. The eldest is fourteen, the youngest is five."

"And they were all born from different women?" Salazar continued.

"Well, there is a set of twins, but other than that, yes." Godric replied.

Salazar sighed and rubbed his temples. Twelve. Twelve little Godrics running around. And these are just the acknowledged ones.

"Godric." Salazar said in frustration.

Godric shifted in his seat sheepishly.

"Well, at least I am aware of their existence." He said, clearly trying to easy the tension.

Salazar sighed and drew a veil from one of his desk draws. He handed it to Godric.

"This is an anti contraceptive potion. Use it."

Godric eyed the potion.

"Dare I ask why you have this on hand?" He asked in amusement.

Salazar raised an eyebrow.

"You are aware of how many of our apprentices are adolescents, correct?" He asked in reply.

Godric nodded.

Salazar sighed. Hopefully Godric will be more responsible with his little affairs.
**
It was the middle of the night. Salazar had been up late, writing some notes concerning some of the apprentices. He had been off to bed, when he heard quite voices. It was coming from a little alcove behind a tapestry. Thinking it was a pair of young lovers, he snuck up on it. However, when he removed the tapestry, what greeted him was not the sight of some young lovers, but his children.

The-nine-year old Sigurd was holding the four-year-old Brigit in his lap, and it appeared he was singing to her.

"What do we have here?" He asked in a mischievous tone.

The two children jumped in surprise.

"Daddy!" Brigit squealed happily, smiling up at him.

Salazar smiled in return at his children.

"Father, I...“ Sigurd began.

Salazar raised an eyebrow.

"May I ask why the two of you are out of bed?" He asked.

Sigurd looked down nervously.

"I... I sensed Brigit was having a bad dream, so I snuck out of my dorm room and... Came to help her."

"He was telling me stories." Brigit added, still smiling.

"I am sorry for breaking the rules father, I just..."

Salazar silenced him by ruffling his hair.

"Do not worry son, I am glad that you decided to help your sister."

He then scooped up his children and held them in either arm. Sigurd squirmed. He was getting rather big for this, but Salazar hardly cared.

"Now, I believe it is time for all little ones to go to bed." He said, smiling.

Brigit looked up at him.

"Can you tell us a story?“ She asked.

"Yes, please?" Sigurd agreed.

Salazar chuckled.

"Of course." He replied. "What do you wish to hear?"

"Can you tell us more about your old druid teacher?" Sigurd asked.

A heavy weight appeared in Salazar's chest. It still hurt to think of Fearcra, but at the same time, he did not wish for the old druid's memory to fade. So he had told his children a bit about the man Salazar still considered a father.

Salazar smiled and nodded.

"Of course."

As Brigit was still too young to learn with the other apprentices, she still slept in quarters near himself and Helga. So her bed was closer. He tucked his daughter into her furs, and kissed her goodnight. He then proceeded to cary his son straight to the dormitory he shared with some other apprentices in his age-group. Sigurd was clearly embarrassed at being cared around by his father, however, he did not outright refuse the treatment. Just as he did with Brigit, Salazar tucked Sigurd into his bed. Thankfully, non of the other apprentices appeared to be awake. No matter how old his children got, they would always be his little blessings.

"Do you miss him?" Sigurd asked. "Fearcra, I mean."

Salazar sucked in a breath and nodded.

"Yes, every day." He said.

"He sounded like a great man." Sigurd continued.

Salazar nodded.

"Yes, he was."

He smoothed his son's hair.

"I am sure that one day, you will be just as great."

Sigurd stared directly into his eyes.

"I do not wish to be as great as Fearcra, I wish to be as great as you."

Salazar had to blink away tears at this statement.

"No, you will not be as great as me. You will be even greater."

He kissed his son's forehead and adjusted the child's furs.

"Now, go to sleep. You have more lessons tomorrow, and I highly doubt your mother would be pleased to see you falling asleep whilst she tries to instruct you."

Sigurd snuggled into his bed.

"Good night, father." He said, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Good night, my little druid." Salazar said quietly, before standing and leaving the room.
**
There was an incident with some of the apprentices. A small group of them had been experimenting, outside of the designated warded areas specifically designed for experimentation, and had caused a large fire, damaging a large section of the nearby forest.

And young Helena was at the centre of it. She had been the one leading the group. Rowena had been furious, and had ranted to her daughter for well over an hour before Salazar was able to drag the girl to where the rest of the dozen or so apprentices were using druidic magic to restore the damaged forest.

Salazar watched as the sullen girl healed burnt grass and earth. He was rather concerned for the child. She never did something so reckless. She was always the more responsible one. He knew this because Helena often helped Sigurd and Cnute get out of tricky situations.

He approached the child.

"Helena?" He began calmly. "May I speak with you?"

The girl merely nodded. Salazar sat on the ground and patted a spot beside him. Helena slowly joined him on the ground.

"Helena, what exactly was the reason behind this reckless behaviour?" He asked. "You know there are specific areas for these sort of experimentations. So why did you not use one of these areas?"

Helena frowned at the ground.

"You do not have to scold me for being stupid, my mother has already done enough of that." She muttered bitterly.

"And I believe she enjoyed this as much as you." Salazar continued.

"At least she was actually paying attention to me." Helena muttered.

So that was why. Not because of a need to be reckless, but as a cry for attention.

Salazar had to admit, he could not blame Helena for feeling neglected. At first, when Helena was still an infant and the sanctuary was still small, Rowena had had more time to spend with her daughter. But as the sanctuary grew, Rowena became busier and busier, spending more time teaching the apprentices and less with Helena.

Salazar sighed.

"Your mother loves you, you know that. She is merely... busy with the apprentices."

Helena clenched her fists.

"I understand that." She retorted. "I just wish... that she would at least try to make some time for me. You and Aunty Helga always make time for Sigurd and Brigit, and Uncle Godric still has time for his army of bastards. So why can my mother not make time for me?"

Salazar sighed.

"If I talk to her, and convince her to make some time to spend with you, will you stop being so reckless?" He asked.

Helena frowned in thought for a long time, but eventually nodded. Salazar smiled.

"Good. Now, I believe you must return to the healing of the forest."

Salazar resolved that he would repair this growing rift between mother and daughter. He did not wish for his family to fall apart.
**
"No, Salazar." Rowena said that evening when he approached her. "I simply cannot. I am far too busy."

"She misses you Rowena." Salazar argued. "You are her mother, and she is your only child."

"You wish for me to reward her childish cry for attention?" Rowena demanded.

"This isn't rewarding her." Salazar retorted in frustration. "This is healing your relationship. She needs her mother, the only parent she has ever known. All I am asking is that you try to spare some time. The rest of us are capable of this."

"Easy for you to say." Rowena scoffed. "You have Helga to help you."

"We both have two children, and we still make time for the four of us to be together. And Godric is one man, and yet he still manages to spend equal amounts of time with his twelve children."

"I thought there were thirteen now?" Rowena cut in.

"Stop trying to change the subject." Salazar retorted. "What I mean to say is, you are an intelligent woman Rowena. Surely you can manage your time well enough to make time for your only child."

Rowena sighed.

"I apologise. It is just..."

She sighed again.

"I believe the sanctuary is becoming far too big for merely the four of us."

"Then let us find more teachers." Salazar suggested. "We have built quite the reputation over the years. I am sure there are many who would be delighted to teach here."

Rowena nodded.

"Yes, if there were more of us to manage the education of the apprentices, then I believe it would be possible for me to manage my time better."

Salazar let out a breath.

"That is good." He replied. "You know I only do this because I care."

Rowena nodded.

"Thank you, Salazar."

Salazar smiled.

"Anything for my family."
**
Salazar knew this day would come. He had been mentally preparing himself for years. And yet, he was still utterly terrified.

It was time to have a very important talk with his son.

He had decided long ago that, when his children were old enough, he would tell them the truth. Sigurd was now twelve, and Salazar knew he was mature enough to understand.

He could only hope that his son would not hate him when he was finished.

Sigurd was in one of the designated experimentation areas, training with Helena. The two of them were almost inseparable, which brought an inordinate amount of joy to Salazar's heart. As long as Sigurd held on to this friendship, he knew his son would never be alone. And he knew Sigurd would never abandon Helena. The boy had inherited his mother's sense of loyalty.

Salazar sucked in a deep breath. It was now or never.

"Sigurd." He called out to his son.

Sigurd looked up, his red hair flopping into his eyes.

"Father." The boy replied. "Good morning. How are you?"

"I am well." Salazar replied. "I wish to speak with you, if Helena does not mind me stealing you from her."

Sigurd looked to Helena, who merely nodded. Sigurd smiled and walked over to his father.

"Come, we have something very important to discuss in private." Salazar said, turning and gesturing for his son to follow.

Sigurd followed quickly after Salazar as the two walked through the halls.

"Am I in trouble?" The boy asked nervously as they walked. "I swear, I did not mean to turn edgar's hair into snakes, I..."

Salazar raised an eyebrow.

"So that was who was behind that excellent but dangerous transfiguration." He muttered.

"It was an accident." Sigurd replied sheepishly.

"I assure you, this is not about that little incident." Salazar replied.

Sigurd smiled in relief.

They reached the entrance into Salazar's secret chamber. After a few more minutes of travel, they reached the room Salazar liked to relax in when he had some time to himself. When they were seated comfortably, he faced his son and sucked in a deep breath.

"There is something, very important, which I have kept from you for a long time." He began slowly. "It is concerning our heritage. A secret which I myself did not learn of until the Samhain after my seventeenth year..."

As Salazar told the tale, Sigurd's eyes became wider and wider. When he was finally finished, Salazar prepared for the worst.

"So you... You are the reincarnation of Ruadán, the son of Brigit?" Sigurd asked.

Salazar nodded.

"That is... Incredible." Sigurd continued. "You are one of the Tuatha Dé Danann, one of the gods."

"Well, technically speaking I am still partly human." Salazar retorted. "Though I still retain some fae blood. I am essentially a demigod."

Salazar sighed.

"And I would not go so far as to call myself one of the Tuatha Dé Danann. I highly doubt many of the gods would consider me one of them, not after I betrayed them."

"But that was in the past." Sigurd argued. "That was quite literally in a past life. They cannot blame you for crimes you committed in a past life, especially since it is obvious you deeply regret your actions."

Salazar sighed.

"But the gods have long memories, and they can hold a grudge for a very long time."

Sigurd scowled.

"Then the gods are fools."

"Sigurd!" Salazar said, his eyes darting around nervously. "You must not speak of the gods in such a way. There is no telling who may be listening."

"I do not care." Sigurd retorted. "They would be fools to still hold Ruadán's betrayal against you. Especially after all you have done. How many magicals have you saved from prosecution by helping build this sanctuary?"

Salazar blinked away tears, touched by his son's words, and infinitely proud of him.

"Thank you, Sigurd. I... I do not know what to say."

Sigurd lent foreward and wrapped his arms around Salazar.

"You are not a villain Father, you are merely a fallen hero." The boy, no, young man, said. "You are a great man, and I wish I could be as great as you one day."

"Oh my son." Salazar said. "You will not be as great as me. You will be even greater."
**
"Salazar?" Came Godric's voice.

Salazar sighed and looked up from his papers.

"Yes, Godric?"

His brother sat in the seat on the opposite side of his desk.

"I wished to discuss something with you. It concerns the non-magically born children."

Salazar raised an eyebrow.

"I am listening." He prompted.

"Well," Godric began. "Some of them are homesick."

"Yes, of course they would be homesick." Salazar replied calmly. "They are adjusting to a new environment."

"Yes, well,“ Godric continued. "Some of them have requested to be allowed to return to their previous homes, to visit their parents."

Salazar blinked.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked. "Godric, you are aware that I can count on one hand the number of non-magical parents who were accepting of their child's gifts. Far more often than not, they face prosecution."

"Yes, at the time of the discovery, there would be fear born of a life being told magic was the devil's work. However, perhaps after some time, the parents would realise that these were still their children, and they would let their parental instincts conquer their fear."

"No Godric." Salazar said firmly. "We cannot allow the non-magically born children to visit their parents. It would be far too dangerous for both the children, and ourselves. I will not take that risk."

"Oh come now Salazar." Godric urged. "My son Æthelred, the elder Æthelred I mean..."

"Wait, how many sons do you have called Æthelred?“ Salazar asked.

"Only two." Godric replied. "But that is not important. What is important is that he misses his mother, just as many other children miss their parents."

"No, Godric." Salazar replied firmly. "They will simply have to accept that it is too dangerous. And anyway, even if the children miss the parents, there is no garenty that the parents feel the same."

Godric scowled.

"You are merely biased." He muttered.

"What?" Salazar asked dangerously.

"You are biased against non-magicals because you were put to the stake as a child." Godric continued. "And it wasn't as if you suffered that much. It wasn't like you were burnt by the fire..."

Salazar slammed his hands on the desk. He glared at his fool of a brother.

"The suffering does not end at the flames." He snarled. "There is far more. All the people I grew up with, my neighbours, my friends, my own family. They all just stood their. I was yelling, screaming, begging for someone, anyone to save me. But known of them did. They just stood there and yelled for the witch to burn. Do you know what they called me, Godric. What my so-called parents called me when the mob were taking me away? Devil spawn, abomination, demon child."

The candles in the room began to flicker.

"So many of our apprentices suffered just as much, if not more. Do you know how many have both the mental and physical scars to prove it? So many nights I have woken up to comfort seal children at a time."

Salazar sucked in a deep breath.

"Once a non-magical discovers their child has magic, then the child is no longer theirs. The child is the spawn of the devil, a sinful abomination. We built this sanctuary to help protect our people, and I will not let you ruin all we have built because a few children, including your bastard, are homesick."

Salazar was trembling at this point. Godric stared at him with round eyes.

"Salazar, I... I am sorry." He said shakily. "I... I spoke foolishly. I... I was callus and foolish."

Salazar sighed and returned to his seat.

"It is fine, Godric." He said tiredly. "However, this is the last I wish to hear of this. I am sure that Rowena and Helga would agree with me, that this sounds like a very foolish idea."

Godric nodded.

"Very well. I... I shall leave you to your work."

With that, Godric rose to his feet and left the study. Salazar sighed. He somehow had the feeling this was not the last he would hear of this.
**
Salazar sat cross-legged in front of a currently unlit pier. On the opposite side of the pier was Brigit, who sat in the exact same position. He was currently helping her practice her fire magic.

"Remember to breath, and to calm your mind." He said. "A calm mind means it is easier to control the fire. Fire feeds off of emotion just as surely as it feeds off of wood."

Brigit nodded. She stared at the pier, clearly concentrating very hard. Her twelve-year-old face, which was already beginning to show some elegant feminine features, scrunched up in concentration. After about a minute, a small flame appeared in the middle of the pier. Brigit gasped, before a large smile spread across her face.

"Look, I did it." She said happily.

Salazar chuckled.

"Yes, now let us see if you can keep control of it."

Brigit stared at the flame. She made the flame grow bigger and smaller. Then, she placed her hand near it, and it jumped into her palm.

The girl laughed as she stared at the fire in her hand. Salazar smiled. He was so proud of his children. Both were almost grown. Godric kept teasing him, saying that he may soon be a grandfather. Salazar replied by saying that Godric was more likely to become a grandfather before him, as the Saxon had far more children running about.

Salazar continued to watch his daughter play with her little fire. However, their peace was soon interrupted.

There was a loud explosion. The flame in Brigit's hand went out. There were yells, screams, and the sound of battle.

"What is going on?" Brigit asked, fear in her voice.

Salazar got to his feet.

"I believe we are being attacked." He said. "Quick, find your brother and Helena. Tell them they are to lead the younger apprentices into the chamber."

"What about you?" Brigit asked as she followed Salazar through the field into the castle.

"I shall assist your mother, Rowena and Godric in leading the defense with the apprentices trained in combat." He replied. "I will also request reinforcements from the wizards council. Go, now!"

Brigit ran off, leaving Salazar to rush to the invading force.
**
It was chaos. Complete and utter chaos.

Many of the elder apprentices fought against what appeared to be non-magicals. The enemy numbered a few hundred. They wielded swords, spears, and Dane Axes, among other things. What was most startling were the crosses they wore across their chests.

Salazar could barely think. He tried to concentrate on finding his family and ensuring the safety of the young apprentices.

The battle was bloody. He saw many of the apprentices fall. However, he also killed many of the enemy. They would pay for invading his home.

But how did they get in? The castle and surrounding areas were heavily warded. The only way they could have found the sanctuary was if someone invited them...

He lost track of time. All he could think of was each enemy that stood before him.

And in a matter of minutes, or it may have been hours, the battle was over.
**
When the battle was done, Salazar took charge. He ordered any uninjured apprentices to help in gathering the dead and wounded. Helga lead some apprentices in scouting out any who may have escaped. Rowena had gone to check on the children. Godric was nowhere to be seen.

Salazar was just tending to an apprentice who had a spearhead stuck in her shoulder, when he was interrupted by a scene which chilled him to the core.

His son, his Sigurd, was limping towards him. The young man was bleeding from a now empty eye socket, his hair was mattered in sweat and blood, and he was carying a dead body over his shoulder.

"Sigurd!“ He said, dropping everything and rushing to his son.

"I am fine, Father." Sigurd retorted. "Please, you have to help him."

Salazar lead his son over to a cot. He then lay the body on the cot beside his son.

It was Cnute, one of Godric's many children. He and Sigurd had become as close as their fathers. And now... It was clear Cnute was dead.

Salazar shook his head.

"There is nothing I can do." He said sadly. "He is with the gods now."

Sigurd shook his head.

"Please, there must be something you can do." The young man begged.

Salazar sighed.

"He is dead, Sigurd." He said gently. "The Morrigan has taken him home."

Sigurd scowled.

"Do you... Do you think he is in Mag Mell?" He asked. "Or would the Valkyries take him, as he is a Dane? Do the Norse Gods even exist?"

"I do not know." Salazar replied. "Now please, let me tend to you."

There was nothing he could do for his son's eye. His son would be half-blind from then on, and the most Salazar could do was staunch the bleeding and cleanse it of any dirt and other fail substances.

"What were you thinking?“ He demanded, more concerned than angry. "I told you to assist Brigit and Helena in leading the younger apprentices into the chamber."

"I wished to help." Sigurd replied. "This is my home, and I refuse to let anyone destroy it."

Salazar sighed.

"You are just like your mother.“ He muttered as he tended to Sigurd's broken leg.
**
Later, once the dead had been cleared and the wounded had been tended to, they all gathered in the field outside the front doors. They had lost a total of a hundred and twenty to the battle. It was a staggering amount for them. So many of the casualties had been but children.

They had a mass burial for those they lost in the battle. Salazar attempted to remain calm, but he could not help but weep for the lost lives. Helga was busy comforting the children, Rowena kept herself occupied by reinforcing the wards, despite the exhaustion. Helena joined her mother in this, and the older woman did not argue.

Sigurd and Brigit wept into each other. Salazar did his best to comfort them both, but then he saw Godric.

His brother had lost five out of his fifteen acknowledged children. The man had been silent ever since the end of the battle. Salazar wished to check on him, but he was also concerned for his children.

Sigurd looked up and saw where is father was staring.

"Go to him." The young man said hoarsely. "We will be fine here."

"Are you certain?" Salazar asked.

Brigit nodded.

"We shall assist mother in helping the other children."

His children climbed out of his lap and walked towards Helga. Salazar got to his feet and approached Godric.

The man was sitting by himself, staring at his hands. Salazar sat beside him silently. Without a word, he put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Godric." He said gently.

"Salazar." Godric replied weakly. "I... I am so, so sorry."

"You do not have to be." Salazar replied gently. "We have all suffered from this tragedy. I am sorry for the loss of your children."

Godric shook his head.

"No, you do not understand." The man argued. "This... this is my fault."

Salazar blinked.

"What?“ He asked.

Godric sighed.

"I... I was a fool. I... I let those children visit their parents and then..."

He clenched his fists.

"They manipulated them, Salazar. They manipulated the children into betraying us, and then they arranged an attack force through the church and... And it is all my fault."

Salazar could not believe his ears. He knew that his brother was a fool, but this...?

He wanted to rage at the man. To slap him, to tell him he had been a fool, that he had caused the death of so many.

But then he saw the utter despare in Godric's eyes, the guilt maring his face.

He clutched Godric's hand tightly.

"It will be alright Godric." He said gently.

His brother looked up.

"You... You are not angry with me?" He asked.

Salazar sighed.

"Yes, I am angry that you did not listen to me. However, you are still my brother, Godric, my family. And true families forgive one another."

"Thank you, Salazar." Godric replied quietly. "However, while I may be a fool, I am not foolish enough to not think there will not be consequences."

"Then we shall face them together." Salazar replied. "Because true family stands by each other."
**
It was horrible. The four of them had been summoned before the wizards council. The council had been furious with them.

"A hundred and twenty dead, most of them children." The head of the council said in outrage. "And you say some non-magically born children were manipulated into revealing your location."

The old wizard huffed.

"We were under the impression that your sanctuary was safe. If it is not, then we shall have to disband this false sanctuary, and send all of you into exile for the safety of our young."

His gaze swept over the four of them.

"However, if one of you were to take responsibility for this tragedy, then only they would be exiled, and the rest of you may remain at your little academy."

Salazar looked over his wife, sister and brother. The three companions who had become his family over the last few decades. Helga was clenching and unclenching her fists, Rowena's eyes were darting about nervously, and Godric was staring at his hands. To Salazar's horror, his brother was about to step forward.

Before Godric could complete his action, Salazar made a split decision. He stepped forward.

"It was my fault." He said quickly. "I did not trust the non-magically born children, as I feared they would stubbornly cling on to their non-magical beliefs. So they retaliated by leading a small army against us. I believe I was proven right. The non-magically born children cannot be trusted."

There were cries of outrage. In the chaos, his family seemed to be about to interject, but Salazar silenced them with a shake of his head.

Finally, the head of the council brought silence to the room.

"This is unacceptable." He said in anger. "We hereby exile you from all magical communities. You shall be granted three days to gather some supplies and say your goodbyes. But after this, you shall no longer be permitted to interact with any other magicals, under pain of death.
**
After they were dismissed, his family confronted him.

"Why did you do that?" Helga demanded.

"I did what I had to do." Salazar replied.

"You lied to the council." Godric said. "You must now carry the burden of my crimes."

"It is a burden I am willing to bare." Salazar retorted. "Godric, you are a very social creature. You could never survive in exile."

"But what about you?" Helga demanded.

"I will be fine." Salazar replied. "I spent many of my early years in exile."

"But this is not fare." Rowena growled. "Salazar, I can help you. I am cousin to the king of Scotland. I can..."

Salazar shook his head.

"No, we should not cause more conflict with the council than is absolutely necessary."

"Oh, I shall show them conflict." Helga growled.

Salazar grabbed his wife's arm before she could murder the entire council.

"No Helga." Salazar said, attempting to calm the woman he loved. "Please, I need the three of you to remain at the castle. This is the best option, even if non of us like it."

"Salazar, why did you do this?" Godric asked. "I am the one at fault, I am the one who should be punished."

Salazar shook his head.

"You are my brother Godric, I love you."

Before Salazar could blink, Godric was upon him. The Saxon had wrapped his arms around him in a tearful embrace. Within seconds, Helga joined Godric and Salazar in the embrace. And then, Rowena had joined them and the four of them were all wrapped in each other's arms, crying for the horrible situation.
**
Salazar ran his hand down Helga's side. He wished to memorize every curve, every inch of skin, every hair. They had spent several hours together, talking, crying, lovemaking. It would be the last Salazar would have in a very long time, for he knew he would never love another woman as he loved his Helga, his shieldmaiden. She was his first, his last, his only.

"It is just not fare." She muttered into his neck.

Salazar sighed.

"I know." He replied gently. "But this is the only way."

"Please, let me come with you." She begged.

Salazar shook his head.

"No. Helga, you must remain here, watch over the children, make sure Rowena takes a brake once in a while, and ensure Godric does not stray into another married woman's bed."

Helga chuckled, before sighing.

"I will miss you Salazar." She said.

"I shall miss you as well." He replied.

He stared into her beautiful blue eyes.

"Helga, when I am gone, if you wish to find happiness somewhere else, I shall not..."

"Don't you even dare suggest such a thing." Helga hissed. "I love you Salazar, I shall never betray you. You are mine, and I am yours."

Salazar nodded.

"And I shall never betray you." He said gently.

They lay in silence for a long time.

"Helga." He began finally. "Thank you."

"For what?" Helga asked.

"For accepting me, for loving me. Even after you learnt of my past life, you never wavered from me once. And I... I will forever be grateful for all you have given me. Decades of happiness. I life I never thought I deserved. Children that make me happy to be alive."

Helga placed a finger on his lips.

"You do not need to thank me." Helga replied. "Your love is worth anything."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Hold on, just wait a minute!" He called to whoever was outside.

He and Helga quickly dressed, before he opened the door. Sigurd and Brigit stood there, their eyes rimmed in red.

"May we come in?" Sigurd asked.

Salazar answered by stepping aside. Their children entered the room and sat on the bed. Salazar joined his wife and children where they sat.

"Must you truly go?" Brigit asked.

Salazar nodded.

"If I do not, the Wizards Council will demand we close our sanctuary. I shall not let our decades of work go to waste." He replied gently.

Sigurd clenched his fists. His one remaining eye glared down at the floor. It still hurt Salazar's heart to see the leather eye patch where his son's eye once had been.

"It is not fare." Sigurd growled.

Salazar sighed and put a hand on his son's shoulder.

"I know it is not fare." He said gently. "But unfortunately, I must leave."

He stared at his son.

"I shall need you to be strong, both of you." He added, looking to Brigit.

"I shall be strong father." Sigurd replied firmly. "And perhaps one day, I shall be as great as you."

"Sigurd, you shall never be as great as me." Salazar replied. "For you are already greater than I will ever be."

He blinked away his tears.

"You are brave, ambitious, wise, and most of all, loyal. You embody all the qualities we wish to imbue upon all who walk through these halls, and I could not be more proud to call you my son."

He turned to Brigit.

"Brigit, you are kind, and you burn with an inner strength which is more fierce than any fire. You are much like your namesake, and I could not be more proud. I am only sorry I can not remain to watch you become the great woman you are destined to be."

Brigit through herself upon him. Her smaller body pressed against him, crying into his chest. He held her, doing his best to comfort his daughter one last time. However, it was very difficult, as he was also fighting his own tears.

And Sigurd joined the embrace, and Helga came soon after. They all ended up tangled in each other's arms in the bed. And this was how Salazar spent the last night in the place which had been his home for so long, entangled in his family.
**
Many tears were shed as the entire castle gathered to say their goodbyes. At the front of the crowd were Godric, Helga, Rowena, Brigit, Sigurd and Helena.

He openly kissed his wife. Helga was trying to be strong, but her face was still stained with tears. He wrapped his arms around his children one last time.

"Be strong, my children." He said quietly. "And remember, I am always with you, as surely as the gods watch over you."

He rose and turned to Rowena.

"Do not overwork yourself." He said. "And remember, it is alright to take some time to breath. And make sure to spend time with Helena."

Rowena nodded, her eyes glistening with tears. He turned to Helena.

"Stay out of trouble, and keep my son out of trouble while you are at it." He said.

Helena nodded, a smile slipping past her tears.

Finally, he turned to Godric.

"Well, this is goodbye." Godric began shakily. "I suppose you should take this."

He unclipped his sword, the Sword of Nuada, from his belt. He went to hand it to Salazar, however, he shook his head.

"No Godric." He said. "I entrusted it to you. Keep it."

Godric stared at him in wonder. He hesitated for a few seconds, before nodding and clipping the sword back onto his built.

"Thank you." Godric said. "For everything."

Salazar smiled.

"Thank you, Godric." He replied. "I could never find a better brother."

Godric smiled at him through his tears.

"Thank you, brother." He said.

Salazar nodded.

There were a few more minutes of tearful goodbyes. But eventually, Salazar had to turn away. With one final glance at his home, his life's work, he walked away from his family, and entered the exile from long ago.
**
It was Samhain once more. Salazar sat by his fire, staring into its flames. Suddenly, he heard someone approach.

He looked up to see someone he had not seen in some time.

"Mhathair." He greeted. "Please, come sit. How are you?"

Brigit sat by his fire, smiling.

"I am well." She replied. "And how are you?"

Salazar nodded.

"As well as I can be." He replied. "Tell me, how is Helga? The children? Rowena? Godric?"

"They are all well." Brigit replied. "They all miss you dearly, and have asked the entire Tuatha Dé Danann to protect you in your exile."

Salazar chuckled.

"That is funny, as I have ask that they protect the sanctuary."

Brigit also chuckled, before falling silent and staring at him.

"You have accomplished much since last we spoke." She began.

Salazar nodded.

"Yes, much. Tell me, will the work my family and I last for long?"

Brigit's smile broardened.

"The sanctuary you have built shall last for many centuries to come. It shall one day be known as one of the best academies of magic, and one of the safest places in the known world."

Salazar smiled.

"That is good." He said.

Brigit sighed.

"Unfortunately, your memory shall be tarnished by false tales born of the lie you told the Wizards council." She continued sadly. "History shall remember you as a villain."

Salazar sighed.

"Well, it would not be the first time." He muttered.

He looked up into Brigit's eyes.

"But it does not matter. I care not for what people think of me. As long as the ones I love are safe and happy."

He sucked in a breath.

"And as long as I know who I am."

"And do you know, who you are?" Brigit asked.

Salazar nodded.
"Yes." He replied. "I am Salazar, one of the founders of a sanctuary for learning and to protect those from the prosecution of non-magicals who fear and hate our kind. I am a brother, a mentor, a friend, a lover, a father."

He sucked in a breath.

"And I am also Ruadán, son of Brigit."

Brigit got to her feet. He also stood, just in time to meet his mother's embrace.

"And I am proud of you, my son." She said firmly. "I have watched you these many years, and you have become a better man than any of my kin could have imagined."

He returned the embrace.

"And I am proud to call you my mother." He replied firmly.

Brigit pulled away.

"Are you ready to come home with me, my son?" She asked. "There are now many who have seen your work, and who will welcome you with open arms."

Salazar considered it for a few seconds, before shaking his head.

"I am sorry, Mhathair, I cannot." He replied. "There is still so much for me to do here. So many children who will suffer from the prosecution of the non-magicals. I cannot in good conscience leave them."

Brigit sighed.

"It will be many lifetimes before such a thing will not occur." She said sadly.

"Then it is a good thing I am part god." Salazar replied.

"This means you shall not meet your family for a very long time, even after they die." Brigit argued.

Salazar sighed.

"I know." He replied. "Please, when they do come to The Otherworld, take care of them."

Brigit nodded.

"Of course."

Salazar smiled.

"Thank you."

"But you may not wish to keep them waiting long." Brigit warned. "Fearcra is already getting impatient."

Salazar chuckled.

"How is the old druid?" He asked.

"As proud of you as I am." Brigit replied. "And is still watching you, just as I am."

Salazar smiled.

"Send him my regards." He replied. "And tell him that he shall have to wait a little longer."
**
Even after Brigit left, Salazar knew he was not alone. He still had his family, though they were separated by a great distance.

As he stared into the fire, a snake slithered towards him. He let it slither up his arm.

His exile would be long, but it would be worth it. And when he finally returned to The Otherworld, and reunited with his family, both mortal and immortal alike, he knew that he would be home.