October 30th, 1239, Scottish Highlands

The sun had long since descended beyond the edge of the withered forest about the trio of men trotting forward, each baring a narrow frame of wood of differing lengths and shades and each likewise glowing at the tip with a half-dome of clear yellow light; and its purpose was two fold, to surround and shield them from the shadows lurking out from ahead and chase away that which had almost silently haunted their footsteps these last days.

It was with relief that the sounds of a violent churning reflected off the wispy trees in their direction roughly ahead and to their right, and so the three men's footsteps echoed off of the well-trodden dirt path toward it.

In minutes the massive river toward the end of their journey appeared exactly as the scroll had mentioned it, and with no other way around they stood shoulder to shoulder and summoned, shaped, and solidified their will together.

A wide stone arch settled heavily onto each end of the river bed with a wet thump and sank down several inches beneath its own weight therein, coming to a solid rest before the men.

The youngest of the lot smiled wearily before the same rustle of long nights past crept upon them from behind once again, and as one they turned to face the unknown threat.

Leaves crunched upon the ground beneath an unseen weight, and a voice strange and eerie to their ears spoke in a foreign tongue from no where.

The sound of something exhaling slowly reached them from only a few feet away before each man was suddenly whipped off of their feet and sent hurtling over the very river they had been about to cross to land upon a surprisingly soft impact on the other side.

The footsteps continued up over their bridge; and each wand was taken from their hands and called to hover in mid air, before a pale and waxy hand emerged from thin-air to grasp them.

Stricken down and disarmed the three could only watch in varying states of dismay, frustration, and confusion as a fourth man unveiled himself with the other hand.

"Adiuvo Agnosco." the fourth man commanded as his own wand was drawn and pointed at them. A clear yellow spell rushed forward and struck the ground nearest each and a matching dome exploded into being for over a dozen feet around.

He stepped forward and into the dome, and spoke once more. "The brothers Peverell, I take it." he said in an accent unrecognizable, but his words were clear enough to be accepted.

"Aye, that be our given surname. And yours, walker of the shadows?" Antioch demanded warily. The fourth man smiled in a sickly manner at him, brushing lengthy black hair from his nearly matching blackened eyes.

"Master of Death in mortal flesh, baring these gifts to alter the events that would come upon your lineage; do not take them lightly, and do not deliver unto others what or where they are, for only the abyss awaits each of you in that path." he responded softly.

"Which of you bares the greater fighting spirit, brothers Peverell?" the dark haired man asked quietly into the following silence, "Who is the eagerest to seek the answers lost to time?"

"... What do you mean?" Cadmus ventured to speak cautiously. From within the folds of his long and torn cloak the other man drew forth a small polished stone and, tumbling it thrice within his palm, looked up and smiled again.

A distortion in the air behind him appeared as mist gathered in greater reserves beneath the bridge, rising into the air to give shape to a bearded figure none of them knew.

"Harry?" the mist-specter asked in surprise. The man turned toward him and waved a hand partly in greeting, and partly to dismiss the spirit back to the afterlife.

With a grimace the figure faded away. "A wizard beyond your time, recalled to the waking realms for but a few short moments. Any figure, even I, must answer its call when the time is nigh." Harry told them.

"This is my first gift, to whom would speak and learn from the great minds no more among our kind. Of you, fellow brethren in magic, who is most curious to control this feat?" he asked carefully.

Ignotus looked at his older brothers and nodded to himself, not sure why but trusting that neither of them would use this tool for its intended purpose.

As they were told, Antioch would be more likely to demonstrate it and try to earn favor. And Cadmus... he had little grasp over history of this sort.

Harry nodded to him as Ignotus stepped up to the bridge. "Do you swear on life and blood to protect this secret, to trust in none and nothing but the spirits you would raise with it, to honor our deal upon this midnight twilight?" he asked in a far more serious voice, the tone dropping so that only they two could hear it.

"Is it truly so valuable that my life has no meaning before it?" the youngest Peverell questioned, and at the dark haired mans continual stare allowed himself to answer. "Verily. Let it be so." he stated.

In an instant their opposing hands had met together as Ignotus own wand appeared beside them, and a flicker of flame appeared just in time to drive itself through the back in a nail of transparent energy.

Harry smiled more sharply at the pain as Ignotus was forced down upon one knee, and yet his grip did not waver. "Then I relinquish this, the Resurrection Stone, upon my ancestral predecessor Ignotus Peverell, bound now and all so long as his line may endure." with those words commanded the wand fell to the arch with a soft clatter, and the nail of fire faded from sight with only a thin blemish left behind as physical proof.

The stone that had been clasped between their palms fell solely into his own.

A/N: Adiuvo; to help, aid, assist. Agnosco; to recognize, understand, perceive.

Prologue completed.