Don't own anything.

Chapter 2

"It is Maester Luwin, my lord." The old man entered the lord's chamber after been given permission to do so. It was evening and the castle's hustle and bustle was settling down for the night. Supper had been served, eaten, and the castle's inhabitants were preparing for slumber. "My lord, your presence is needed in the feast hall. A rider has arrived."

"Is it urgent?" The Lady of Winterfell, Catelyn Stark, chimed in as she braided her long tresses for bed.

"It seems to be of upmost importance. I have been told that the rider is from the Citadel." That sentence caught the couple's attention. Lady Catelyn's hands had stilled for a second, before dropping to her lap. What could it mean?

"Go." The lady told her lord husband. "I will see that the children are in bed."

Without a word, Lord Eddard Stark, left the room with the maester in stride.

"What is the meaning of this?" Lord Stark demanded as he entered the hall. Only a few candles were still lit, producing an eerie feeling around the room. The lord sat in his chair, awaiting an answer. He saw two figures standing in front of him. A maester and a child. He turned to his own maester but the confused feeling he felt must have been contagious, for the maester had no idea as well.

"I am Archmaester Perestan." Recognition and dread filled Maester Luwin's heart. No raven had been sent of his arrival. The gravity of the situation only made him yearn for answers. No archmaester would personally deliver a message when he could send a raven. This was grave.

He motioned to the child next to him. "And this is Lady Raven of Azarath." Azarath, the next great empire after the demise of Old Valyria. The child had her cloak's hood concealing her face, utilizing it as a shield. The moment she was introduced by the archmaester, she stepped up and bowed as delicately and elegantly as a queen.

"My lord." Still her face was hidden. She seemed to remember this fact and as she elevated herself from the floor, she allowed her hood to fall from her face.

A gasp was heard, from the lord or maester, no one knew nor cared. The stillness in the room doubled. The child had hair as deep as the night's sky. Even with the poor lighting given by the candles, one could still see the indigo undertones to it. Her skin was as light as snow. Her features were all exotic and yet, still familiar in the North. Dark hair, pale skin, striking eyes. Her eyes were the most alarming feature. They struck fear in the Lord's heart.

"How old are you, child?" The lord barely seemed to remember how to speak. If she was a Targaryen, she was doomed. Those eyes gave her away before she could utter a single word.

"My eleventh nameday just passed, my lord." Air filled both the lord and maester's lungs. No Targaryen was alive at that time to father her. That was one answer, they still had more in store.

"What is your business in Winterfell?" The lord's eye had softened a bit, for the biggest danger – the mystery of her eyes, had passed.

She stepped forward slightly and descended upon her knees. "I seek refuge, my lord. If it means that I have to pledge my sword – my life, to House Stark, then so be it." The child spoke with a determination not seen in many eleven year olds. She had probably seen things, experienced things, that a child her age should never have to. She made him think of his own children. How lucky they were. To sleep in their own beds, not worrying about a thing.

"I know not how much the sword of an eleven-year-old girl will do in battle." The lord said with a chuckle. His chuckles had no malice behind them. They were coming from a lighthearted father. "But I will allow a test to see if you could be of any help. My son is about your age, how about you have a practice sword fight with him on the morrow? With wooden swords, of course. The fight will allow me to see if your sword is worthy enough to fight under my banners." He was humoring Raven. His eyes were laughing although his mouth was not.

"I accept, my lord." Standing up, Raven felt the archmaester walk up to stand behind her.

"My lord, there is more to be asked of you." Archmaester Perestan lightly place his hands on the circlet around Raven's head. He lifted it until it was but a forgotten halo above her head. All the gems moved with the circlet, all but one. Raven's eyes were downcast, waiting for a response. The old maester next to Lord Stark had to hold on to a chair to keep himself upright.

"She is…" The archmaester nodded. Although, Archmaester Perestan had a low opinion of fellow archmaester, Marwyn the Mage, it was idiotic to deny facts when they were presented to one's face. The girl had magic in her soul. It was no trick, no lie. Even with her magic, Marwyn was still a low standing archmaester in the eyes of the Citadel. Yet, that was more to do with his personality than his studies.

That was the reason it was decided to give Raven to Maester Luwin as a pupil. He held a Valyrian steel link in his chain for his study of magic and the occult. The isolated north was great to lessen the number of wandering eyes and loud mouths. Now, the maester only had to agree to the task, but from his face, that would not be too hard to achieve.

"She is exactly what you suspect." Lord Stark's eye from the child in question to the maesters' silent conversation. His questioning as to what exactly they meant was to be expected. "My lord, she is magical." The air in the hall seemed to be at a still. That revelation was even bigger than her indigo colored eyes.

"Prove it." The lord motioned for the girl to show him whatever the maesters were insinuating. Her hands glowed black, while her eyes glowed white. She raised her arms above her head, and while both the lord and maester were preoccupied with her, they seemed to not notice the feasting tables in the air. No one should be able to even move them by themselves when they were grounded. No eleven-year-old girl should be able to levitate them at all. Yet, here she was, doing precisely that.

When Raven lowered the tables, the archmaester took that as the perfect opportunity to plead their case. "I hope she has proven it in your eyes, my lord. The Citadel is tasking Maester Luwin as her tutor."

The maester knew no else but to nod. In his youth, Maester Luwin, hoped and dreamed that magic was real. He wished for magic to favor him but it had not. Embarrassment favored him with his Valyrian steel link. Other maesters looked down upon him. Nonetheless, here stood his proof. He could not have said anything even if he tried. He prayed to the Gods, old and new, to not let this be a dream, a figment of his imagination.

"Winterfell welcomes you, Lady Raven." Lord Stark said as he raised himself from his chair. "You will meet the rest of my family on the morrow, for now, one of the maids will show you to a room. You too, Archmaester Perestan."

"I am forever grateful, my lord." Raven slept peacefully that night for the first time in a long while.