0393 Who?

0393 Who?

Bryan and Sirius floated gently on the shimmering azure surface of the vast, endless sea. Their eyes swept across the horizon, taking in the breathtaking expanse of the ocean that stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. Except for a lonely small island in the distance, there was nothing else.

Suddenly, shattering the peaceful silence that surrounded them, a voice rang out from the seemingly empty space behind them. It was a voice that seemed to be etched within Bryan's very soul.

"Who's there!"

Instantly alert, Sirius's body tensed as he supported Bryan with one strong arm. With his free hand, Sirius whipped out his wand, pointing it towards the source of the mysterious voice. His gray eyes, usually filled with mischief and laughter, now blazed with intense vigilance.

The apocalyptic scene they had witnessed earlier had shaken Sirius to his core. It had brutally exposed the limits of his magical abilities, leaving him fully aware of his own vulnerability in the face of greater powers. With Bryan temporarily weakened and unable to defend himself, Sirius knew that the responsibility for both their lives rested on his shoulders. He dared not show even a hint of carelessness or hesitation.

As they watched with a mixture of uneasiness and curiosity, a truly wondrous sight began to unfold before their eyes.

From the empty space behind them, as if emerging from another dimension, a massive ship gradually materialized.

First, the bow of the ship pushed through. Next came the broad deck, stretching out like a floating island. Towering masts sprouted upwards, unfurling great sails. As more of the ship emerged, they could see the cabin. Finally, the massive stern appeared.

Yet, for all its magnificence, the ship bore clear signs of encountering some disaster. Its vast hull was battered and scarred. Ugly gashes marred its surface, some still smoking faintly. In many places, particularly along the upper decks and masts, charred cracks spider-webbed across the wood - unmistakable evidence of devastating lightning strikes. It was as if the ship had sailed through the heart of a tempest sent by the gods themselves.

Standing tall and proud on the ship's elevated bow was a middle-aged man with fiery red hair and a broad face. From head to toe, he was soaked to the bone, his clothes clinging to his muscular frame and his hair plastered to his forehead. Yet, despite his disheveled appearance, there was an unmistakable air of power and charisma about him.

With one foot planted firmly on the ship's rail, a pose of absolute confidence in front of the rolling waves, the man gazed intently towards the distant silhouette of Azkaban. A hearty, booming laugh erupted from his chest, echoing across the water.

Bryan raised his head, staring intently at the wizard who seemed oblivious to his presence, and pursed his lips tightly.

There, larger than life and seemingly plucked from the pages of history itself, stood Godric Gryffindor - one of the legendary four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This was the man who had established the noble house of Gryffindor, whose reputation for bravery and chivalry had had remained undiminished for a thousand years. And now, he had appeared before him once again!

Bryan's mind raced as he compared this version of Gryffindor to the one he had encountered on the Avalon Island. The differences were subtle but significant. This Gryffindor's face bore fewer of the sword scars and appeared much younger. In fact, he didn't seem much older than Bryan himself.

As Bryan's gaze traveled downwards, it fell upon the sword sheathed at Gryffindor's waist. Another key difference revealed itself - this was not the familiar blade that was in Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts. Instead, it was the sword that he had obtained from the Avalon Island.

These obvious details merged in Bryan's mind, leading him to a startling conclusion. This Godric Gryffindor, who had appeared so unexpectedly before them, was clearly from a time in the distant past. Most likely, Bryan deduced, this was Gryffindor before he had even set foot on Avalon Island - a younger, perhaps slightly less experienced version of the legendary wizard.

'What was going on? Was this another imprint of soul power?'

Narrowing his eyes, Bryan stared intently at Gryffindor's face, scrutinizing every detail. He searched for any sign that might reveal whether the man's excitement - so intense as he stood there, apparently due to being in the midst of some great adventure - was genuine or merely a facade.

Meanwhile, Sirius, like Bryan, had his attention completely captivated by the wizard standing proudly on the ship's bow. As the massive vessel drew closer to where they floated in the water, Sirius's wand arm gradually lowered, his initial defensive posture giving way to pure awe. His eyes widened to the point where they seemed in danger of popping out of his head, and his mouth gaped open in increasing shock. The expression on his face became almost comically distorted with amazement, a mix of disbelief, wonder, and reverence.

"Th-that..." Sirius stammered, his body trembling violently as the full impact of what he was seeing hit him.

"I-I'm not seeing things, am I? Th-that's..." His face flushed a deep red, a stark contrast to his usually pale complexion. As he struggled to form clear words, his grip on Bryan's arm tightened unconsciously.

As Bryan busied himself with drinking a potion to regain his strength, the familiar taste bitter on his tongue, Sirius's attention was caught by something else. Near the cabin door hung a flag that made his heart leap with pride and excitement. Unable to contain himself, he shouted to Bryan,

"A lion flag, it's the Gryffindor flag! That's right, Bryan, this man is Godric Gryffindor... My God, this trip is worth it!"

Sirius was so caught up in his excitement that he failed to notice how unusually calm Bryan remained throughout this extraordinary encounter. Nor did he observe that on the other side of the cabin door hung another flag - this one with a deep blue background trimmed in bronze.

Suddenly, Gryffindor at the bow turned around, his piercing gaze sweeping across the deck and seeming to look directly at Sirius and Bryan. The unexpected movement made Sirius's body go as rigid as if he'd been hit by a petrification spell. He stood frozen in place, too overwhelmed with a mix of reverence and excitement to utter a single word.

Gryffindor's attention, however, was focused on the cabin behind them. His stern features softened into a warm smile, transforming his rugged face and lending it a touch of tenderness that opposed his warrior's demeanor.

"It's just a change of clothes, Rowena," he called out, his voice tinged with a hint of amused exasperation. "You could have done it with just a flick of your finger, but you took so much time..."

His gaze returned to the horizon, excitement burning in his eyes. "Do you see that island? We've finally found the right place!"

At the mention of another familiar name from the annals of magical history, Bryan's eyebrows twitched slightly. His gaze, along with Sirius's, was drawn towards the cabin door.

In the dim interior of the cabin, barely visible at first, the silhouette of a beautiful figure gradually became clear. With each passing moment, the shape became more defined, approaching the doorway step by step.

As the figure stepped into the light, both men on the deck were struck speechless. Sirius drew in a sharp, audible breath, his eyes widening in disbelief. Even the usually composed Bryan felt his heart rate quicken, his gaze becoming momentarily unfocused.

Rowena Ravenclaw!

Both Bryan and Sirius were familiar with the portrait of this equally famous witch that had hung for centuries in the office of the Head of Ravenclaw House. That painting had depicted a woman of such pure, almost otherworldly beauty that she had seemed almost desolate in her perfection. Yet, remarkably, Rowena Ravenclaw had never been primarily renowned for her appearance. When people spoke of her, they more often praised her unparalleled wisdom and intellect.

Now, seeing her in person (or at least, this incredibly lifelike phantom of her), both Sirius and Bryan felt a sense of wonder tinged with regret. How, they wondered, could generations of witches and wizards have overlooked Rowena Ravenclaw's astonishing beauty?

The Rowena who stood before them appeared younger than Godric, perhaps in her mid-twenties. Of course, this was just conjecture - they both knew that powerful magic had some effect in slowing the aging process, and no one could be certain at what stage of their lives these two of Hogwarts' four founders were at this particular moment.

But it wasn't just Rowena's physical beauty that captivated them. Her presence radiated an aura of wisdom and power that was almost tangible. Those ice-blue eyes, set in her perfect face, seemed to contain infinite depths of knowledge and understanding. Even though Bryan and Sirius knew that the figure before them was likely just a phantom/memory or illusion, when their gazes met Rowena's, they felt as if their very souls were being drawn into those mesmerizing eyes.

Rowena was dressed in a sky-blue vintage-style wizard's robe that flowed around her like water, highlighting her graceful movements. The fabric seemed to shimmer slightly, as if infused with subtle magic. She wore no jewelry or adornments except for one exceptionally significant item - the famous diadem of wisdom perched atop her head. This legendary artifact, known to grant enhanced intelligence to its wearer, glittered brilliantly in the gentle sunlight.

The otherworldly aura surrounding Rowena was like that of a goddess who had stepped down from the heavens to walk among mortals.

Sirius, overcome by the combined presence of two legendary founders, stumbled backwards. He subconsciously avoided Rowena Ravenclaw's path as she walked towards Gryffindor, even though Bryan had already said that what they were seeing maybe wasn't real. His face was a filled with awe and disbelief, eyes darting between Godric and Rowena as if afraid they might vanish if he looked away for too long.

As Rowena approached Godric, her lips curved into a fond smile that seemed to brighten the entire deck. When she spoke, her voice was melodious and clear, carrying easily despite the sound of waves lapping against the ship's hull.

"We are humans first, Godric, and only then wizards. Magic is a gift of immense power, but it must be wielded with wisdom and restraint. If we abuse it, we will risk losing touch with humanity and forgetting who we truly are."

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