The Founders

Chapter 64

Kyra froze and said nothing. "Since no one else bothered enough to tell you how your parents really died, I will." The corners of Kyra's eyes burned but she could no longer feel the pain in her arms.

"Your mother, as I am sure you now know, was the pureblood Hufflepuff heir," Godric continued. "Your father, on the other hand, was a muggleborn. Your mother and aunt had been estranged for many years, but when she discovered how your mother had tainted their ancient bloodline- had produced a half-blood Hufflepuff heir- she was disgusted. She came to kill you- to purify the Havard's of their taint. But your parents fought to save you and, in the battle, they all perished. So, you see, we are alike. You, Katarina, and I. All our lives, and all our families have been torn apart by purebloods and their hatred of muggleborns."

Kyra was looking up at Godric, the tracks of her tears grimy on her cheeks, her hair torn out of its ponytail and bloodied. Lines of burn marks wrapped themselves around her arms and there was a gash from her temple to her cheek, the blood half dried.

She was trembling and a sob threatened to break its way out of her chest. She stared blankly, replaying a scene that she had never witnessed in her mind.

Godric lowered his voice to a whisper. "You see now, don't you, why they all have to die?"

She snapped her eyes up to his, ignoring the throbbing in her temples and raised a shaking hand to her chest, pushing down as if to quell her pain. She painfully rolled to the side and pushed herself up onto one knee.

She shook her head, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. "No, I don't. I- I can't even tell you how sorry I am for what you suffered. To lose the people that you love the most like that- to have to watch it-" Godric jerked as if he had been hit. "I can't even imagine that kind of pain."

Her voice throbbed with emotion. "And Kat- if you can hear me. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry- for your sister, and your father and your mother. I don't know how one person can hold all that pain in them. I can't even fathom it." Kyra let out a sob. "And I'm sorry that I don't have a family because of this hatred. But- but I can't blame a group of innocent people for what a few people did- I won't. Because it won't fix it and it won't bring anyone back, it will just continue this cycle. And I don't want any more families destroyed."

She raised her eyes to Godric's, and wiped her wet cheeks, smearing the dirt and blood. Bracing her hands on her raised knee, she pushed herself slowly to her feet, until she was standing face to face with Godric. "I'm sorry," she said. "But I won't help you create the kind of hatred that you want to stop, and cause the kind of pain that you feel. Not now, not ever."

She took a step back and threw out her wand, whipping up a whirlwind of the dust blanketing the ground. She hurled it at him and it wrapped like a cloak around his figure. He flung the dust away and she threw an impact spell at his stomach.

As he doubled over, she cast ropes to wrap around one wrist and then the other; he summoned his wand back to his hand but she shattered it before it could reach his palm. He let out a shriek, struggling against the bonds, both his arms raised. She took a shaky step forward and hurled another impact punch at him.

He fell backwards onto the ground, arms bound. She took one more step and dropped heavily to her knees beside him. He looked up at her, eyes defiant, as she stuck out her hand, summoning the sword.

The hilt slapped into her palm and she stuck the point in the ground, sliding her hand down the blade until she was gripping it like a dagger. She raised the blade and plunged it through the yellow pendant necklace around his throat.

It sheered through the metal and flesh of Godrics's throat as if it were paper, the blood spraying onto Kyra's face. A faint inhumane shriek came from the pendant, and black viscous fluid leaked from it. She slid the blade all the way home, crouching low over Godric's face.

He gurgled for a moment and jerked, eyes wide open, and Kyra saw as the blue faded to the chocolate brown of Kat's eyes. They looked at Kyra in comprehension, accusation, for one second before they went blank.

Kyra stayed frozen in that position, shaking, the tears sliding down her cheeks and dropping onto the bloody wound that she had made. She let out a broken sob, clutching the blade so hard that blood ran down her forearms from her hands.

Very slowly, she raised herself to her feet, swaying with dizziness and grief and gripped the hilt of the sword, pulling it from Kat's neck. Dragging it against the floor, iron scraped against stone, she took a few heavy steps to the wall and pressed her bloody palm against the stone.