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Arising from Nothing... by luinrina

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Chapter Notes: Disclaimer:
The four founders of Hogwarts aren’t my possession; the lovely J.K. Rowling is their rightful owner.

AN: The word ‘Valara’ has its origins in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Silmarillion where the powers to be, the Valar, is a kind of personification of nature and its forces. And to give witches and wizards the ability to command the natural forces as an idea has found its creation therein.
The word can be loosely connected to English as ‘value’ as well as the Latin ‘valere’ which can be translated to be of influence, to be strong, to be of value.

One after the other, stone by stone and brick by brick, it grew. With each new stone, it rose higher and higher towards the night sky; with each new brick it became what it was supposed to become - a wall. The wall of something huge. The wall of something magnificent. The wall of the manifestation of a shared dream.

It grew to become one of the many walls of the school they were working together to build.

With precise ease and swing, the next stone settled on its destined spot, having been lifted, carried and placed there by an invisible hand. Softly it came to rest next to a brick of exactly the same shade of ivory grey. With a tiny blub, it found its final position.

'That is really neat work, my dear sir.'

'Why thank you, kind lady,' he responded, bowing slightly. He turned towards her.

A soft breeze played around her, blowing the dark hair out of her face. She closed her eyes to relish in the fresh coolness, but opened them again when she sensed the man standing close. He extended a long, slender finger and swept one stubborn strand of hair off of her face, gently touching her soft cheek. Their eyes met, and warmth spread through the woman's being.

With a feeling of power surging through her veins that even she was at a loss to explain, she opened her palms and lifted them towards the sky. At the same moment, staples of stones were engulfed in a sparkling water fountain that equalled the whirlwinds dancing around them in some distance, lifting, carrying and placing stones one after the other on the steadily growing wall, in power and strength. The fountain swayed slightly when the tall man's fingers wandered over her porcelain skin.

'You should not overstrain yourself. I worry about your wellbeing,' he leaned closer and whispered in her ear.

She smiled and closed her eyes again, burying her cheek into the man's palm. Its roughness felt so different on her silky skin, but she welcomed the feeling of the hand's warmth spreading through her. It made her feel alive.

'My sir, I am honoured to have you look after me. But do not worry yourself; I feel well enough to carry on with my work. And my strength does not rely on my emotions.'

He looked into her icy blue eyes. They shone in a soft gleam that threatened to drown him. But he could not tear his gaze away, captivated by those mesmerising eyes.

'I hope I am not interrupting any important counsel you two might be engaged in,' spoke up a third voice, male, 'but without your help, I fear for our dream's completion.'

She smiled softly up at him before turning towards the man that had joined their company. 'Brave sir, oh Godric the Courageous, we will not hinder the rising of walls that mean so much to each of our group. Fear not. We shall continue our quest in mere moments.' She nodded gracefully in his direction.

Godric bowed in gratitude. 'I thank you, oh wise raven of glen, Lady Rowena. I shall proceed to complete my own part of the wall.' He bowed again, and with a nod towards the man next to Rowena, turned and left. His dark red cloak billowed behind him in a sudden breeze, encircling the departing soul in a friendly embrace.

'A kind gesture of friendship from an even kinder man of deeds, oh Salazar Slytherin,' Rowena said when the breeze has died once again. She smiled at him. With an absent gesture, she laid a hand on her stomach, softly stroking it through her midnight blue dress. 'I acknowledge fortune to have made a lucky acquaintance this amiable.'

'Your words honour me above any compliment I shall ever receive,' he murmured and grasped her other hand. Turning its palm down, he kissed the back of her hand and whispered, 'And I shall forever be grateful to the spirits for I have gained the company of a lady. A lady that is fairer than the sun's brightness and that of the stars.'

Rowena blushed prettily, curtseyed and replied, 'Your compliments are most poetic.'

~*~

'I assume, dear friend, that Salazar and Rowena, my brother and sister in soul, are again taking a break to anew their not-so-secretive passion?'

Godric smiled; nothing could escape Helga Hufflepuff. 'Indeed, they are,' he answered. 'Yet she promised they would continue post haste.' He saw her searching gaze and met her warm brown eyes. 'But you, dear friend, oh lovely Helga,' he said and hurried over to where she stood, 'you look stricken. Do you not need a break for yourself, considering the circumstances of your health?'

Helga laughed while the ground around started moving in waves, lifting up several bricks at once and lacing them on top of her already highly-built part of the wall. With sparkling happiness in her eyes she turned towards him once more. 'I am expecting, Godric, not deadly ill.'

'I worry for you, as is my duty.'

She smiled thankfully and lifted a hand to stroke his cheek, rough with his beard. 'Why, thank you. But your duty should lie with your lady Felicia alone, not with me. I have my very own sir to worry about me. Jeremiyah of the clan of Smyth does have his share of fears. If he does, he does so with heart and soul.' She sighed and took her hand away again. 'How is Lady Felicia?' she then asked to divert their dialogue from her and stop Godric's worrying.

'She is most healthy,' he answered a bit short and contained.

A flame shot out from underneath a pile of stones and engulfed all ivory grey with a sparkling, heating red that drove away the chilling evening mist. It also coloured the lady and the man in shades of light and dark orange. With a mighty roar, the flames chased themselves around the stones and bricks. The strange dance continued, and they grew mightier with every stone they polished and marbled.

Helga silently shook her head and grabbed both his arms, pressing them down to his sides. 'Godric, you shall be chased by your own powers if you do not gain control over them. I beg you, please stop before you burst into flames yourself.'

He diverted his gaze and looked into her eyes which spoke with a warm compassion that he had never seen or felt before. Slowly he let the flames die, then sank down onto the ground. He looked broken, a man without anything left.

'My dearest friend, what has happened to make your heart cry?' she asked. She then sat down next to him and laid a hand onto his amply muscled arm.

His gaze fell, and only the empty shell of a once very mighty man was left. Helga feared he would never find the way back to happiness. She kept talking to him, until she eventually found his gaze coming alive again.

'My wife has born a son,' he murmured after long silence.

'But that is to be celebrated,' she exclaimed enthusiastically. But when he lifted a hand, she fell silent again for his expression turned her insides to ice.

'He died a mere fortnight after having seen the light of day.'

A grave dolour settled over them like a black veil silently falling down from the heavens above. Slowly, rain drops began to fall from a darkened sky, at first only here and there, but soon the rain fell in a wall of a grey sorrowing veil. The spirits seemed to be crying for the loss of something great. Small sobs sounded, and while Helga's tears were falling from her brown eyes, overwhelmed with sympathy, two souls neared the friends. Their steps halted, both unsure if they should approach, but eventually they neared.

'I feel for your loss, friend of the wild moor, and cannot express how struck I am by the sad news you bring,' Salazar evinced in his bass voice, full of grief.

'How is our dear friend Felicia?' Rowena asked and sank down next to Godric, embracing his broad shoulders with her arms, resting her forehead against his temple. He reached up and stroked her arm in gratitude.

'She is sad, and takes all the blame on herself. But it was not her that killed my son.'

'The flames did take his soul, did they not?'

Godric looked up to where Salazar still stood next to them all. 'Yes,' he simply mouthed. The first tear ever cried by this strong and courageous man was witnessed as it left his eye to slowly roll down his cheek, mixing with the on-pouring rain of deepest agony.

~*~

My dearest lady in heart,

I beg you to please not mourn anymore. You do not have any fault in the loss of a soul. One we had celebrated in welcome. It was not you who took him again. It was not you who brought him to a place we shall not reach in shorter time. My fair love, I am to be blamed for our beloved son's death.

You have seen my flames, my passion in the warmth of red. It is who I am, and what I am. A Valara. A man of powers that are mightier than you might know or understand. A man with a heart that suffers. I see you cry and blame yourself for something that is not your fault. The blame lies with me. It was me who bestowed the flames' power to our beloved son. And it was not the spirits' wish to let him be born strong enough. Strong enough to stand the flames' power flowing through his veins, giving him a strength that is far beyond what anyone might hope to ever gain. And I fear the strengths of Valara diminish.

The spirits have been generous and kind. They allowed a few of us to command over the natural forces. But I fear that in the changing tide of time men have made mistakes. The spirits do not forgive. They are taking from us our powers step by step. We should bestow them to anyone born. Thus we ensure mankind the command over something as powerful as Mother Nature's children. And yet, our sons and daughters need to be strong; strong enough to carry a power that equals the natural forces in their lordship and individualism. It has never been easy to be the shell for powers - powers that are much beyond what you have at your disposal, my lady. And still I am proud to have been chosen to carry the powers I have. I am one of the only merely left Valara.

I am engulfed by grief and the loss of our hearts, Felicia. I ask you to no longer mourn about our son. I shall in thy name and not let him be forgotten. And as long as the flames will carry me, I shall command over them.

I am sorry.

In heart and soul forever with you,

Godric Gryffindor

Chapter Endnotes: Thanks to my betas: Terri (mudbloodproud), Sammy (MissyQuill) and El (Elmindreda). *squishes all three*

And now it's your turn. What do you think about the one-shot? Thanks for reading, and please leave a review. *hugs*

~Bine