"What are your thoughts on him?" Anne glanced at the front of the heart tree she was sitting on top of, its face not fully developed as the humans had torn away its previous weirwood form before it could grow.
"My thoughts?" she asked with a pondering caw. "He is strong for one. I spun a few lies to make it seem as though Bran was stronger at his age, but even Bran would have struggled with summoning a Greater Elemental on his first attempt."
"We agree. This is a cause for celebration though as we have never had such a strong Druid at this point in time."
"You're saying that there will be a stronger Stark in the time to come?"
"There used to be, yes, but now, his branching fate is causing others to branch out as well. What was once one is now six, perhaps seven."
"Their names?"
"We cannot say. Names are power," the tree replied, making her sigh. "However, the fates of the Young Wolf, The Wolf Queen, the Cat of the Canals, the Broken, the Bastard and the Lost Wolf have changed significantly.
The Fish of the North has survived her tribulations as well and the Honourable One survived his fate. However, the Dance still happens."
"The Dance? The event you are trying to prevent?" Anne asked, frowning as the tree rumbled. "What is this event actually?"
"The beginning of the world's downfall. For this garden to survive the winter, it needs the warmth of the dragons, but the dance takes it all away."
"Then, what should I do?"
"Today will be the turning point. Guide the Chosen and make sure he follows the path he knows."
"What of Torrhen?"
"The Chosen shall enjoy the times to come."
'That does not mean he'll survive,' Anne thought to herself, but before she could ask the Old Ones to continue, she heard Torrhen's voice.
"Anne!! I need your help!!" she knew that Torrhen was not yet skilled enough in Telepathy to hear her reply, making her sigh before she took off.
"Remember, make sure he follows not the path of least resistance but the path he knows."
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"What are those, Lord Torrhen?" Alicent asked with a frown, but I myself did not know why the hell Aegon was currently floating in the middle of the room with dragon wings.
Fuck, where did I pull him from?
"Um, prince Aegon, may I ask where you were just before you were brought back?" My question brought his attention back to us and he blinked as he saw Alicent and me staring at him.
"Mother? Torrhen? What happened? Where am I?"
"That's what we're asking you. Where did you get those wings?"
"I don't know. I just-No..." he trailed off with a look of horror that bewildered me. "No, no, no, no."
"Aegon, listen to me."
"You can't send me back, Torrhen!" The sheer horror in his voice made me take a step back as he floated closer with a panicked frown. "Please, no. I'll stay here. I'll be your slave. I'll do any-fucking-thing! Just please! Don't send me back!"
"Aegon!" I decided to omit the 'prince' part, knocking him from his stupor. "Apologies for shouting at you, but I need you to pay close attention to my words and answer truthfully, okay?"
"O...Okay," he nodded, floating back as I glanced at Alicent. She nodded and I gave a subtle nod back before turning to Aegon.
With a deep breath, I spoke, "Okay. Now, do you remember how you died?"
"No. All I heard was buzzing and the feeling of my throat being gnawed on," he replied, rubbing his neck with a grimace.
"Buzzing? Bees?"
"Perhaps hornets or wasps? They are more vicious than bees, are they not Queen Mother?" I asked and Alicent nodded.
"They are. What else can you remember, Aegon?"
"A voice. It was distorted and I was too drunk to make out what it said, but...it called me brother."
'Is drunk Aegon about to give me the all-clear? Wait, Helaena! She's in the cross-fire now!'
"Brother?" I heard Alicent murmur and turned to see her frown darken. "Aemond, Helaena...and Rhaenyra."
'...Right, forgot about that little problem there,' It has been so long since I've seen Rhaenyra and Alicent at each other's throats that I completely forgot that neither of them like the other.
This just opened so many more paths that the Dance could follow.
"You are certain they called you 'brother'?" I asked and hummed when Aegon nodded. "I'm not nearly skilled enough to control a swarm of insects, but insects have a hive mind and they do follow a queen."
'Sorry, Rhaenyra, but I need Alicent to focus more on you, and less on Helaena and myself by extension.'
"Well, that's a good jump in the direction to catch your killer. Now, after you died, describe the place you woke up in."
"It was burning," he replied, a grave and haunted look in his eyes. "Everything was burning. People were being boiled alive by these grotesque dragons that could walk and talk. I remembering being flayed, torn apart, dissected...it never stopped. The pain never stopped! Oh! Oh gods! I don't want to go back! You can't make me!"
"Aegon! Aegon! Focus on me!" I shouted once I noticed his mind beginning to wander, Alicent staring in horror at her son's fearful expression. "I won't let you return, okay? I won't send you back to that place, but you have to focus."
"It's...it's too late. It knows."
"Who? What knows, Aegon?"
"The Lord of the Seven Hells," The moment he finished speaking, I jumped as a clawed hand covered in rotting scales pierced through his skins, Alicent stifling her scream as we watched Aegon spit out ethereal blood.
Then, he was torn away, leaving only an abyssal black rift in his wake.
"Little Chosen," a deep voice hissed, my blood going cold at the sight of a golden, slitted pupil staring at me through the rift.
'Wait, no. It is the rift,' I thought with wide eyes, realizing that I was in the presence of something that should not have laid eyes upon me.
"I will forgive this slight once and only once."
"I...I u-understand," I admitted that I did stutter a bit, but my pride was gone as the figure's pupil flicked to a still Alicent before crumbling in upon itself.
The moment it did, the oppressive aura in the atmosphere faded away and the tension faded from my body only to be replaced by exhaustion.
"T-Torrhen?"
Yes, Queen Mother?" I asked, turning to see the woman's exhausted face.
"Nothing that has been discussed will leave this room. Am I clear?"
"Understood," I nodded, the woman dismissing me with a wave. I took the opportunity to leave with both hands, walking out of the room and towards my own.
It was at that moment that a familiar weight settled on my shoulders, my eyes flicking to Anne as she stared back with narrowed eyes.
"Everything that has happened. Start explaining."
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Situated at the nearest point to the Iron Islands sat the city of Banefort, the seat of House Banefort.
It was a bustling port city, trading grain and its prized sheep by the ton. Its buildings were well-kept, designed in the style of Lannisport while a dozen galleys were protected by three dozen longships.
The pride of Banefort, however, was the black stone castle built atop a small hill, a path leading directly from its gate to the port below.
It had a small moat at its base, the castle walls built as tall as two houses stacked on top of each other with archers manning the walls.
A retractable gate was at its front and a small courtyard could be found in front of the castle, its modest size something to behold for the common folk.
It was deeper in the castle that the lord of Banefort and its castle could be found, Lord Mosley Banefort having a frown on his face as he observed the map in front of him.
His normally luscious brown hair was dishevelled and dry, slight bags under his dark green eyes after having been up for the past day alone.
He could not rest after his scouts reported fifty longships and one galley sailing towards Banefort, something he would not be too caring for if not for the fact that each proudly displayed the Red Kraken's flag.
That would be impossible, though, given that the Westerlands and Dalton Greyjoy loathed each other so he could not understand why the other cities would just let him pass when he was sailing this closely.
He could see it as Dalton just passing by to get to the Iron Islands, but there was something gnawing at the back of his mind that told him he should be on guard.
He always trusted that feeling.
A knock came from the door, pulling him from his thoughts.
"Enter," he spoke in his gruff voice before smiling when his son entered with a stoic nod.
Ah, the boy was the spitting image of him. Tall, well-built and could hit like a damn bull. Combined with his incredible intellect that was a gift from his mother, Mosley would not be surprised if his son rose to marrying a close relative to the Lord Lannister.
"Morley, what is the report?"
"Fifty longships, one galley. A count of most likely 50 to 70 pirates on a longship and an additional 100 on the galley."
"Balls," Mosley muttered with a grimace.
"We have also determined that it is indeed Dalton Greyjoy leading the ship towards us."
"We're sure on that?"
"He was reported to be standing on the front of the main galley with a smile on his face."
'50 to 70 per longship and a hundred on the galley. That's...2600 to 3600 men. Banefort barely has two dozen men-at-arms. I hope that raven to Lord Lannister has arrived by now,' Mosley thought with a frown before nodding and turning to his son.
"I want you to inform Ser Rolind to begin arming every man in the city. Close off the gates and begin fortifying for a battle."
"As you c-"
"My lord!" The door burst open, making both Mosley and Morley turn to see a blonde squire standing out of breathe in the doorway.
"You better have a good reason for bursting into my office."
"Two...two hundred more longships and fifty Iron Heavy Galleys were reported to be pulling in from the North! A rough estimate of 15 000 pirates joining the 2500 coming in from the south!"
"Father?" Morley asked, staring at the distraught look on his father's face.
"...Morley, take the women and children...and run."
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"We reap, we pillage and we take what we want~"
"For the light weeps when we bleed!"
"But in the dead of night, we dance, we feast and we sing~"
"For the Night is Dark and Full of Terrors!!" Deep voices came from the pirates as they stomped on the ships' deck, some unsheathing their swords with ominous cackles.
With a soft chuckle, he began walking forward, the shadows of the sea and the ships dancing with the snap of his fingers.
"We reap, we pillage, we plunder and we take!!"
"For the Drowned One is always at our side!!"
"And when the king and the lords tell us that we shall hang for our actions, what do we say?!"
"WHAT IS DEAD MAY NEVER DIE!!"
"YO-HO, ALL HANDS~"
"HOIST THE COLOURS HIGH," the voice came from the depths, the seas trembling as monstrous tendrils rose from it.
"Heave-Ho, Thieves and Beggars~"
"NEVER SHALL WE DIE!!" The pirates bellowed, the defensive force of Banefort trembling as Dalton reached the front of the ship.
A tentacle lowered itself, letting Dalton step onto it before he was lifted into the air. The lord spread his arms wide, staring down at the terrified foes his men were about to face.
"Know!! That even in death, you will never die!!" he shouted and at that moment, roars came from the ships as 17 500 men dove into the waters with gleeful shrieks.
Dalton himself cackled as he sunk into his shadow, reappearing on the ground below while unsheathing his sword. The first archer lost their shooting arm, Dalton spinning around another arrow while stabbing through the throat of the second archer.
Three arrows whistled as they flew and stabbed into his chest, but to the horror of the defenders, Dalton just looked down at the sticks protruding from his chest.
"...Is that it?" he asked, reaching up and pulling all three out with a wide grin.
At that moment, the reavers and pillagers surged from the waters, climbing up the port of Banefort and charging through arrow volleys with wide grins.
Every slash stitched back together, every hole simply sealed back up and with every passing moment, the skin of Dalton's men grew more and more paler by the second.
The lord in question had a pep in his step as he twisted and contorted his fingers in intricate patterns, causing shadow tendrils to rise, and impale anyone and everyone that stood too close.
Dalton cackled as he walked towards the castle, his army killing everything and everyone around him. His eyes were fixed on the lord Banefort staring down at him, a murderous glare in the man's eyes.
With a smile, he raised his hand and pointed mockingly at the man, giggling when Mosley sneered and raised a hand.
"ARCHERS!!" the man bellowed and the archers around the castle took aim at Dalton, who just smiled while raising both hands above him.
"NOTCH!!" Dalton hummed a melody under his voice as the archers notched their arrows, bringing his hands down and letting out a low drone.
"LO-!" Their shadows spiked outwards, resulting in Mosley and his men being impaled on tendrils that twitched and twisted.
The notched arrows were still fired at him, but Dalton spread his arms wide and let each one sink deep into his flesh.
"Ah, the embrace of the Drowned is ever-pleasurable," he muttered with a groan, giving a slight shudder.
Then, he looked at the devastation behind him and grinned, "MEN!!"
His voice carried over the chaos, the Greyjoy fleet pausing as Dalton raised a thumb before flipping it down, "Reap! Rape! Pillage! Reave! Feast! ENJOY!!!"
Like blood-hungry sharks, the pirates feasted on whatever they could find, Dalton watching with a proud smile before he turned and walked away.
"Well, time to ransack this castle."
A/N: We're ending this one shortly because I want to save the full-on start of the war for next week.
Why? Because it's going to be...chaotic as fuck.
Also, To be A Hero & He Who Is Death? Tomorrow or Sunday. The former I can't seem to figure out exactly which continuation I want it to follow and I've learned that writing an actual war with strategies and shit is hard.
Anyway, as always, read, enjoy, review and until the next one...
Ba-Bye~!!