Godric lied. What lie could a newborn tell? Those were the last words uttered by one of the skulls of her ancestors.
Even these long-dead old monsters who lingered in the world could not resist being destroyed.
Her grandfather let out a weary sigh as he looked down at his son, who lay skinless and bleeding upon the ground, his chest rising and falling with shallow, painful breaths.
"You are still too soft. Still as reckless as in your youth."
His cloudy eyes drifted toward the shattered skulls scattered across the chamber. At least half of them had been destroyed while the others bore deep cracks that spread across their ancient surfaces.
"Ghosts of our ancestors, I beseech you. Guide us."
