Godric thought for a moment. "There may actually be a photograph — future portrait — around somewhere. I know that—" he stopped himself from saying that he had one of Saeunn and the infant Godolfr, because that was something very dear to his heart, and thinking of their absence here usually made him deflate from his normal persona. He did not want to burden Helga with that right now. "—well, there lives in the village a boy named Colin. One of mine. He is quite good with the device that makes photographs." With a flick of his wand, he Summoned a photograph from his chambers. "I was eighteen. I was in Rome at the time. Salazar I believe was 17, though you know he is seven years my senior, I would have only had ten years in his time. As it was, I happened to be maybe one week from the journey which would take me to meet him."
Godric chewed his lip a moment in thought. It was an old habit that would die very hard indeed. "The magic of this village," he began, "was not originally under control of the Weasley twins. They took it by force from a tyrant who ruled over the predecessor to this village, and who inflicted great pain and suffering over her thralls. As for our specific location — what I can tell you is this: A magical barrier exists around the edges of the woods, the lake, and the mountains; on all sides. If you travel far enough in any direction, you will find yourself at the opposite end of the village.
It is commonly described as a copy of ourselves which exists here, as though we have been duplicated, for our choices and our actions here will have no affect at all on the world outside. But I do not think it is the afterlife, or the beyond. There are things in our futures which are yet to pass, and we know as fact that they will happen, for the history from the future tells us it is so. We could not be dead here, though we can die here."