Chapter 578: The Knight
A sword came flying through the air toward the Black Cat. Startled, the cat leaped backward, but his tail moved with an instinct of its own, coiling tightly around the leather-wrapped hilt.
"It seems you've taken a liking to my steel," Gryffindor said heartily. "Keep it."
The Cat's breathing slowed as he tried to process the abruptness of the man's logic. Gryffindor was far more difficult to "read" than Dumbledore.
"What? Rowena's cat used to love batting my blade around back in the day..." Gryffindor looked genuinely puzzled. "If you don't want it, I'll take it back."
The Cat's tail answered for him, quickly tucking the sword behind his back.
Gryffindor let out a booming laugh at the sight of the cat's protective hoarding. "You truly are cut from the same cloth as her."
"Professor Gryffindor..." the Cat began, attempting to steer the conversation.
He certainly wanted to study the blade, but he found himself unsure of how to properly address the legend before him.
"Call me 'Professor Gryffindor' if it makes you feel better. Dueling is my trade, and I suppose teaching a wizard like you wouldn't be the worst way to spend an eternity," the man said dismissively. "It's all just a matter of knocking some sense into people, anyway."
The Cat blinked. He has a point, Sean thought privately.
"Is that how you usually taught your students?" the Cat asked, a rare note of dry curiosity in his voice.
"Why? You enjoyed the lesson, didn't you?" Gryffindor grinned. "My old colleagues used to criticize my 'pedagogical methods' constantly... I really should have shown them you."
The Cat gave a small shake of his head when Gryffindor wasn't looking. He most certainly did not agree with the methods. If charging at a cat with a broadsword counted as teaching, then Dark Wizards were the finest professors in the world.
"The lesson is over. I'm off," Gryffindor said, turning on his heel.
"Wait—your sword!" the Cat exclaimed.
"Stayed with you, didn't it?" Gryffindor waved a hand over his shoulder.
"But—"
Gryffindor was like a localized gale; he moved without warning and left a vacuum in his wake. Sean's mind was still full of questions. This blade was clearly different from the official Sword of Gryffindor he had seen in the Headmaster's office, yet it hummed with a raw, terrifying power. Where did that power come from?
More importantly, why had the Void Rune on his chest cracked? If the artifact shattered, would he be exiled from the Lands Between forever?
The thought sent a jolt of panic through him. His tail began to twitch frantically, and he quickly pressed it down with a paw to steady himself.
"My Void Rune has cracked, Professor Gryffindor."
The Cat bounded forward, catching up to the warrior in a few quick leaps. He assumed Gryffindor would have the answer.
"That is a question for Rowena," Gryffindor replied airily. He leaned casually against one of the massive granite toes of the stone titan Sean had summoned, looking back at the cat.
"I apologize for the intrusion," the Cat said, realizing Gryffindor wasn't interested in mechanics.
It seemed his time for searching for Ariana was gone for the day. He only hoped his maximum stay in the realm would extend further next time to make up for the distraction.
Thinking of the timid witch wandering this trackless waste, the Cat's brow furrowed.
"Troubled, are you?" Gryffindor asked, sliding down to sit on the white earth beside the Cat.
"I am, sir," the Cat admitted.
"That witch, Ariana?" Gryffindor tilted his head. "She's got the right stuff. Courage in her bones. She would have been a lion, given the chance."
Sean hadn't expected such a high compliment for the fragile girl. He couldn't help the small, surprised flick of his tail. Gryffindor caught the movement and grinned; he found the Cat's internal thoughts remarkably easy to read.
"You're still young, lad," Gryffindor noted with a sharp look. "You don't yet understand how paradoxical a human soul can be. You haven't seen how a sincere face can mask a hollow heart, or how a noble exterior can hide a petty mind. You don't yet know that a 'coward' might possess the deepest well of courage in the world."
Gryffindor's amber eyes softened for a moment. "I've been watching her for a long time. Over the centuries, I've had to deal with a few... less than savory spirits who took an interest in her. I suppose I haven't been entirely useless here. I've found exactly three souls who meet the standard of the Knight's Code. That's my greatest achievement in this place."
The Cat's tail began to sway again.
"The first..." Gryffindor chuckled. "Well, he was one of Arthur's lot. A bit of an eccentric... you might have seen him in a portrait at Hogwarts. He's a bit much, even for me."
"And the second?" Sean asked. "What makes a Knight?"
The Cat gave a slow shake of his head.
Gryffindor's expression suddenly turned solemn. He gestured for the Cat to raise the Ruby Blade. When Sean complied, the warrior's voice took on a rhythmic, ceremonial gravity:
"Wizard Sean Green. I stand as surety for your honor by the glory of Gryffindor. Therefore, in the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave. In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just. In the name of the Mother, I charge you to protect the young and the innocent."
The Cat went rigid, his tail frozen. He didn't understand the "mechanics" of the ritual, but he felt the weight of it in his very marrow.
"There. Now you know. You are a Knight," Gryffindor said with a wide, satisfied grin.
"What?" Sean blinked, utterly lost.
"You have been granted Glory."
Suddenly, the mist began to boil. Sean watched as the white vapor surged and spiraled, obscuring Gryffindor's rugged features.
"I'll leave you with an old joke," the warrior's voice echoed through the rising storm. "The world kills the kindest, the gentlest, and the bravest without prejudice or mercy. And so, the Lands Between welcomes those three above all others."
Gryffindor gave a wild, joyful laugh. "The pinnacle of those three... is a Knight of the Veil."
The mist reached its boiling point. It swirled around the Cat's head like a crown made of lightning and clouds. The entire realm seemed to resonate, the fog spreading until every spirit within miles turned their gaze toward the center.
Finally, a wisp of vapor settled lightly onto Sean's brow, taking the invisible shape of a circlet.
"My task is done," Gryffindor said, standing up. "As for your stone? The Rune? It cracked because the Lands Between now obeys your will, not the will of the catalyst. You didn't find the stone, Sean. The stone found you."
The Cat struggled to find words. What just happened?
"You have to learn to say 'no' to this place," Gryffindor advised. "That's what a wizard does. Sometimes, don't copy me. But don't not copy me, either. Don't be too reckless, but don't be too careful. Make your own path—I've always hated students who do exactly as they're told."
Gryffindor's silhouette vanished into the white expanse.
The encounter had ended as abruptly as it began—a piece of destiny written in the fog. Sean didn't know when he would see Professor Gryffindor again. He lowered his head in a gesture of silent respect.
Regardless of the confusion, the Founder had given him gifts he couldn't yet measure. He had shown him "Blind Confidence"—the realization that his magic could reach the scale of mountains. The stone titan still stood beside him, a silent monument to the boy's potential.
He had taught him the rules of the realm. Dumbledore had been right: a pure heart was a powerful anchor here. And Sean was now a "Knight"—a guardian of the Veil.
A Knight of the Veil...
The Cat's tail coiled around the Ruby Blade once more. With a final look at the titan, he turned and stepped into the heart of the mist.
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