AN: Finally a new chapter ! No internet for more then a month thanks to the bastards who handle construction around here and my own issues. My update pace should go back to normal now. This one is somewhat rushed to make up for the lack of updates.
LCF – Tupac ain't too bad. Tupac might say "Me Against the World", in Westeros it is Voldemort against the Westeros (maybe not the North but still).
nobody: I am addressing the logistics issue the Voldie will face shortly. I am trying hard not to fall in the same category that other author do, namely a fearless, smart leader who focuses on internal development of the North. Voldemort is not quiet the sort of person who will expend much on raising crops. If you are powerful enough to extort money off the rich southerns, Voldemort won't think twice about extorting food material from them. But yeah, he will have to careful not to start an all out war – the Voldie I am portraying is trying extra hard to cause all around chaos that will last for a long, long time. Straight out war might cause pain for now but eventually, it will lead to peace.
Elquenodebesernombrado - What you say is absolutely right. I will fix that slip up in next chapter or two. And no, he won't be educating the masses – not yet, after all those without magic don't count much in Voldemort's eyes. However, his eventual goal is to have a kingdom full of wizards that will continually laugh their ass off the filthy, warring muggles of the south.
Light Lord Cybergate – Voldy is going to do some awkward romancing soon. You will probably have to wait for a few more chapters yet though. Already wrote a piece of him wooing one of the beauties of GOT/Asoiaf. Just hang tight.
Table of Contents
Lannisters 1
Margaery Tyrell, Highgarden Reach 3
Dorne 5
Small Council Meeting, King Robert and the councilors 6
Somewhere in Bravos, the Last Targaryen and their minders 8
A random mountain man 9
House Mallister, Riverland 9
Mance Rayder, Somewhere in the far Northern 10
Three Eyed Crow and Children of the Forest 10
Lannisters
Greyjoys were history, there was no doubt about that. If Lord Voldemort's new methods were to come to fruitations, the Iron born way would be no more. He had pretty much removed the Iron born threat except for the fleet that belonged to Euron Greyjoy. The good news was Euron Greyjoy was said to be sterile. The bad news was, he still had a fleet, however rag-tag and he was most likely very, very angry. And, that anger would most likely be directed at Westerlands and Reach. He might want to direct it at the North, but the damn Northerners were too far off and too strong.
As such, Tywin Lannister was concerned. He was very concerned. Lord Voldemort had established the North as a power that could have rivaled Valyrian Freehold if those dragon lords were still around. He had no doubt that if dragons were to come, Voldemort's scorpio bolts would drop them out of the skies.
Oh, those bolts. Marvelous inventions and absolutely out of his reach. The Northman wasn't going to give those bolts away, he was sure of it. He was acutely sure that those bolts had changed the way war was done in Westeros. Even the Rock would fall if Voldemort's ship were to come sailing.
Just months ago, he was thinking of how to counter the Northman, now it seems he might have to think of how to survive the Northman. His brother Kevan and his sons were waiting for him in his private parlor but he had no idea what to say.
"Brother", Kevan greeted.
"Father", "Father", both Tyrion and Jaime intoned.
"Lannisters – it seems we are all here. So, what do we have now?", the lion started.
Kevan loudly retorted, "The damn Northerners, what else? Everything was going just as usual before the damn volcano. And damn Lord Voldemort."
Jaime, who had been much more subdued given his dungeon stay in the North spoke angrily, "Watch it Uncle. They have given us no cause for anger. If it wasn't for them, if it wasn't for Lord Voldemort, my sister, your niece would still be suffering that fat king. The Tullys would still be mocking us. Forgot the fish 'n chips we are enjoying right now?"
Kevan seemed to deflated a bit and said, "I know nephew, I know. It still doesn't change the fact that we are now the SECOND most powerful house of Westeros. Especially with the way they smited the Iron born. Lord Voldemort can destroy the Rock itself if he so wishes."
Jaime in a bit more serious, less angry tone asks, "So what if we are the second most powerful house? We have the backing of most powerful house of Westeros. A defense aliance. The Riverlands will be our client state in all but name. Same with Iron Islands – did you forget the treaty forced upon them? Sure, the Northerners are taking the largest portion of the lands and riches, but we get the next part WITHOUT DOING ANYTHING. The bastards of Vale are done for. We can do just about anything here in the South and no one can stop us."
Tyrion prodded, "Not even the Reach?"
"The flowers? Don't jap Tyrion. They haven't set an alliance with Voldemort. I bet the Tyrells are going to have problem from the fuckers of Shield Island, who have already set the ground work of alliance with Voldemort", said Jaime.
Tywin, smashes his cup and angrily shouts, "I don't believe what my own son is saying. Are you content with being second best? We are lions, they are all sheeps!" The last is delivered as a growl.
Jaime just says, "Father, I have learned that there is no wrong in bowing head to the gods. A single one of his death eater wiped seven of us kingsguard, including myself and Selmy. Look what happened to the troops who were assembled to march into the Neck. Half of them wiped out by freak thunder and lightning. An act of the gods that was."
Tywin was still gathering steam when Tyrion smirked, "And father, when you allowed them to build that Trading outpost, what did you think was going to happen? He has the outpost built on top of a cliff, with clear view of both Lannisport AND Casterly Rock. Would you like to bet that he does not have those wonderful scorpios and ballistas ready to fire at a moment's notice?"
The old lion gets an ashen face while Kevan concludes, "The moment we make a single wrong move, he will start firing those damn bolts of his. No more Casterly Rock. No more Lannisport."
Tyrion adds, "And who knows how many soldiers, archers he has? With the outpost being on top of a cliff, built more like a fort then anything, it would take us at least a month to break through. By then, his ships from Pyke will be here. See? No. More. Lions."
The two senior Lannisters grab their heads in apparent defeat. Tyrion then happily continues, "Father, looks like there is someone much much smarter then you. And now, you have no choice but to comply."
Tywin growls angrily, "We will see about that. A faceless man. No, they will demand something outrageous. A sorrowful man. That is it. Lets see how that will hold up against the boy."
Tyrion smacked his much feared father to the surprise of everyone and shouted, "What is wrong with you old man? Even with Lord Voldemort gone, his army won't be gone. His death eaters won't be gone. And, they will come looking for vengeance. I witnessed them in King's Landing after you all left. Their devotion is single minded. But, their brains are not clouded. He has built a system that can survive without himself. I will not die because my father's ego can't suffer someone who is smarter then him."
Jaime then added, "And I doubt a sorrowful man or even a faceless one can do anything. Those death eater, they are beyond anything."
Kevan finally said, "Let us just play his game for now. We will see how the future goes, perhaps have Cersei's daughter marry the boy and by tying our families, there won't be no need for hostilities."
With that, all the Lannisters stayed silent, unsure of what the future might bring.
Margaery Tyrell, Highgarden Reach
Margaery was a girl of 8 and a rather smart on at that. Her grandmother, Olenna had taught her well. She knew she would be sold off to the highest bidder someday, all for the good of her family and that she would have to charm her man to stay in power. Her beauty and her wits were her only weapons, that was drilled into her pretty little head since the day she was born.
And wit she had. The moment she realized her value as a pawn, she saw everyone around as a pawn. Even her oh-so-loving grandmother. She knew Olenna Tyrell loved her for what she was worth in terms of her wit and beauty, not for herself. Her mother did not matter, Alerie Tyrell was meant to look pretty and warm Mace Tyrell's bed. Alerie did that job well and that was that. Mace Tyrell on the other hand was a bloody fool who was intent on selling her to the highest bidder and that happened to be Joeffery, the crown prince at the moment, at least in Mace's eyes anyway. She hated her father with a vengeance. Her brothers were well, pointless. Loras was a fop who was happy with Renly's cock in his ass. Garlan played with his troops and nothing more. Willas was busy with his hounds and did not have time for his sister. Unfortunate, but that was her life.
As such, she was determined to make the best of her life. For that reason, she would spy on her father and grandmother whenever possible. This time was no different. It wasn't that hard anyway, the two were so loud that she could hear them two doors down.
Hidden behind the intricate dresser, Margaery was noting what the argument was about. Apparently, the two were in the middle of a heated debate about the Master of North, Lord Voldemort. Mace was still adamant that the Crown Prince was the highest bidder for Margaery's cunt but her grandmother seemed to favor Lord Voldemort.
"Mother, I want my grandsons to be Kings and Princes. Wouldn't that be grand? Next generation of Tyrells would sit on the Iron Throne. What would that Northern savage even offer? More war? Eventually the might of Westeros will crush him", pontificated Mace.
"You dumb fool! Lord Voldemort's fleet crushed the Iron Born in three days! Three Days! Can you believe that? Even the gods are on his side if you believe the rumors. How do you think the Royal Fleet failed to do it's job? Either the Northerners sabotage it from across the country or they had agents filled in the capitol. His reach seems to be longer then ours. He has Lannister in his pocket. Don't you get it? He is the power. Now those scorpio bolts we have been hearing about, better then wild fire or so they say", put Olenna.
"So what? He still has to bow before Iron Throne", smirked the oaf.
"When did I give birth to such an oaf?", lamented Olenna to Mace's chagrin. Then she said again, "Did you not hear what he did to the Hand of King right in front of full court? And the taking of Gulltown? What about killing the Riverland's lord paramount? Forget that you fool?"
"All endorsed by Robert", said Mace with a dismissive gesture.
"Because he did not have a choice you ignorant turd! As of now, that savage can kill, replace any lord or even Lord Paramount and no one can do anything. That is how strong he is."
"Surely you are not saying he can attack us mother. We can raise an army hundred thousand strong", said a somewhat concerned Mace. Did my useless father finally grow a brain? Thought Margaery.
"Why not? His ships can go anywhere. Tywin Lannister is not going to stop him, he might even assist Lord Voldemort. Riverlands is in shambles and can't do much against the North anyway. He has a clear way to us."
"So, we offer Margaery's hand to him then? A way to make an alliance with both the North and by them, with the Lannisters too", spoke a somewhat enlightened Mace.
"Exactly. And, we will also ask that the wedding be delayed until Margaery reaches 16, so we have 8 more years to make a decision. Who knows? By then things might change. The savage might fall from power. May be Margaery will learn enough to control the savage.", smiled Olenna.
"As always, you know best mother", said Mace.
Margaery on the other hand, was seething. "Sell me off, why don't you? And then, plot against my future husband too. Call him a savage too. Just you wait you misrebale old hag and stupid oaf, I will show you." She then set off for her own planning. Let her slave-masters send the betrothal contract, if the Lord Voldemort is smart enough, he will go with her plot instead of succumbing to her masters. "There will be reckoning", thought the Rose of Highgarden.
Dorne
As usual, Doran Martell was sitting in his chair. But, unlike his usual self, he wasn't calm. He wasn't centered. He was agitated. His thoughts were scattered.
His younger brother, the hotheaded Oberyn Martell was pacing nearby. His 14 year old daughter Arianne Martell was sitting nearby, playing with her dagger. His wife, Mellario while angry at her son being sent away to be fostered with Yornwood, was still by his side, trying to calm him down.
Oberyn mocked him, "I warned you something was happening down at the North didn't I? You were the one who preached to wait and guess what? Damn Northerners now have a power base unrivalled by anyone. Fleets. Doran, Fleets. Fleets that can reach here in a heartbeat. A whole fleet that sailed from the East, from White Harbor to Iron Island in less then 2 month. You and I know the Starks are probably still angry at how their sister was held prisoner in our lands. Do you.."
Doran, now angry shouted, "Yes Oberyn, I know. The moment they find we knew Lyanna Stark was being held in Tower of Joy, that fleet will sail straight for Sunspear. There is no question on that. Lannisters will most like join them because you have been running around proclaiming vengeance. I know damn it. I know. I need suggestions from you, not this mocking. Unlike the Targaryens who marched our deserts, they will land troops. Three thousand troops they landed in the Iron Island. They might land even more here."
His wife mocked him, "Why not sell of you daughter now? Seems like another way to make peace for you. After all, you already sold off your son."
"Please Mellario, not now", pleaded Doran.
"Then when? Bring back my Quentyn. Bring him back now", shouted his wife.
"We might be under the threat of war and you are bring this again?", the cripple seethed.
"Yes. It seems like an excellent time."
Just then, the 14 year old butted in, "Father, a betrothal between myself and Lord Voldemort might be an excellent idea. If it works, there will be peace. Else, I can poison him and be done. My happiness means nothing when the survival of our own house is at stake."
Doran, despite the glare of his wife, gets a painful look and says, "Thank you for your sacrifice daughter. I shall write a proposal tonight and send it by raven. We will see how it goes. Meanwhile, Oberyn, you will set sail for the free cities and have the pirates and all your mercenaries pay attention to the Northen merchants. Harass them, kill them. I don't care. Just don't let our involvement be known."
Oberyn responded with a gleam, "I shall set sail immediately brother."
Doran's wife, Mellario on the other hand wasn't happy. "Spineless coward. Sold your son. Sell your daughter. Incapable of avenging your sister. It seems I have married a coward. What will happen if they find your involvement in that plot? A raven will come for the Yornwoods instructing them to hold my son as a hostage or have their house destroyed by those exploding bolts. If this insane plot to work, get my son back. With Arianne being sold off, he will be the heir anyway."
Doran thinks for a bit and says, "I shall do so my lady." [In book, his wife Mellario leaves for Norvos after the disagreement about their son being fostered with Yornwoods]
Small Council Meeting, King Robert and the councilors
The atmosphere was tense. Whether because it was due to the individual councilors concern about the newly exhibited superpower status of the North or because of Roberts anger towards Stannis, there was no way to tell. None of the councilors were stupid enough to start the meeting and direct Roberts ire towards himself.
Robert, irritated with the inability of his councilors to talk straight, grumbled, "What is it with all you dumb bastards? None of you can formulate a single sentence? Here I am, angry beyond belief and can any one of you buffoons guess why is that?" The monologue was delievered in a perfectly calm monotone that hid a dark rage.
As said earlier, none of the small council members were stupid enough to guess Robert's reason, even if they had their own idea. "Northern aggression", one thought. "Because your brother screwed up and you lost gold to squander", thought another. One more privately thought, "How would I know? I am not the big fat lard ball, am I?" All in all their thoughts were all over the place and yet, no one was going to say shit to Robert.
So, Robert yelled, "Cowardly currs the lot of you. I know every single one of you are thinking of reasons why I might be angry and yet, none of you can say it."
Varys, the ball-less wonder, decides to grow a pair (imaginary anyway), and says, "I believe you are upset about the threat that the Northern military posses to the stability of realm."
Just like that, Robert's anger peaked and the threw his wine goblet towards Varys's shiny head. "Fuck the Northern military. Fuck the fucking Realm. And fuck you you fucking shitty master of whispers. I am fucking angry because my fucking brother lost me half the treasury of Pyke to the fucking Northerners."
Stannis quivered in his seat. Varys, covered in wine and exhibiting a swollen forehead courtesy of the wine goblet, cowered further. Robert continued uncaring about the reaction, "What is the use of all the gold dragon wasted on the Royal Fleet when it can't be mustered on time? The Northern fleet can sail all around Westeros and reach the Iron Island, but the Royal Fleet can sail from here? Stannis, were you busy sucking someone's dick? I have half a mind to flog you and send you to the wall."
Stannis turns pale but Robert stills continues yelling, "And, where is the god-damn Master of Laws? Where is Kevan Lannister?"
"I am afraid he had to go to the Westerlands your grace. It seems the iron born raiders did more damage then initially expected and so, Tywin Lannister called every highborn for damage control", replied Jon Arryn.
"And why did you not go the Vale Lord Arryn? After all, Vale suffered plenty, correct?", asked Varys.
Arryn gave the spider a venomous look and said, "The interior of Vale was largely untouched. If it wasn't for the failed attack on the Neck and then the stupid march done by Harrold Hardyng, things wouldn't have been much bad for us. As it stands, me going back to the Vale won't do any good."
Robert grumbled some more and said, "Well, no matter what, go to Vale, don't go to Vale, it is your damn kingdom after all. Stannis, make sure the fleet is in working shape – you have a month to prove yourself or you are going to the wall." With that ominous warning, the uncaring king left, probably for his whores.
Then the debate started. Jon Arryn, who had a singular hatred of the North and an ax to grind with Lord Voldemort ordered Varys for every scrap of information he had on the savages. "Varys – tell us everything you have on those savages. Everything, leave nothing off."
And Varys did not disappoint. He told everything that he knew, which wasn't much. "My Lords, there aren't as many little birds in the North as I would have liked and so, what I know is not the latest, so you will have to pardon me." (internally he was cursing – he had NO LITTLE BIRDS in the North. They had a habit of vanishing without a trace)
Then he started to spiel a tale that was more fitting to a tavern then of the Small Council meeting. Stannis was the first to let him know that, "Varys – you don't expect us to believe that do you? Chosen by the Gods? Raining fire from the heavens? Lightning and Thunderbolts?"
Pycelle, who had been instructed by his Lannister master to keep the focus on the North, in a good light, jumped in, "Well, is there any other explanation Lord Stannis? If the tale were coming from just a few drunk soldiers, we could discount it all as mummers tale. But, we have heard it from some of the most credible lords. Lords and Knights alike. Same tale. Tell me they are all drunks and liars."
Arryn is the next to talk, "Be that as it may, chosen by the gods or not, we can't just give up against them. The have already grabbed portions of Vale, who knows what they will do next?"
Varys tittered with, "Surely you cannot be suggesting we go to war! The realm cannot afford a war." As much as he wanted the strength of the North curtailed, going to all out war was not an option, not now anyway. That would destroy the realm – there would not be any realm for his Targaryen masters to return.
Baelish, whose phantom pain had finally subsided proposed, "Well, since we can't go into a straight out war, why not impose some economic sanctions on them? Throw in some decrees that makes their life harder."
"Excellent idea Lord Baelish. I want you to start working on the trade sanctions. Report to me immediately", crowed Arryn.
Stannis, who so far had been quiet rebuked, "You fools – you think some puny economic sanctions will hurt them? Unless you start attacking them, it is not going to do shit. Now I am going to get drunk, might as well have fun this last month of my life as a free man." Just like that, the man who was known for his Iron discipline, left the council room. All the other councilors looked at eachother, somewhat relieved that the dour, strict man was gone but at the same time, fearful that they also might suffer his fate. They knew in their heart what the possibility of them surviving the wall was – slim to none.
After Stannis left, the remaining councilors made some small talk, cursed the North for breaking the statuesque and left for whatever mundane things they usually did.
Somewhere in Bravos, the Last Targaryen and their minders
The two Targaryen siblings, Visereys and Daenerys were living in a somewhat decent mansion with their protector Ser William Darry. Unfortunately for them, Ser Darry was sick. Sick like a dog and wasting away at an alarming rate.
Just days earlier, Prince Oberyn Martell had arrived from Dorne and with him, came the latest news of Westeros. It was alarming and utterly mind boggling for Visereys. The very idea that the savage Northmen could possibly take on the whole seven kingdom, be favored by the gods was unthinkable.
Even worse, the previous agreement about Martells signing a betrothal agreement between himself and Princess Arianne Martell, in return for Dorne's support for his bid to the Iron Thorne was not going to happen. Apparently, the vipers were too damn afraid of the savages. He wanted to scream but he had nothing to scream against.
"At least the viper bitch will kill their lord if needed", he mused.
His little sister, the six year old Daenerys was a whole different story. She seemed enthralled with the story of the North. Well, to be fair, he was also somewhat happy at how they killed almost 15 thousand men who might have aided Robert Baratheon. He wanted to beat the little girl but, sick bastard that he was, he knew Daenerys's value was in her beauty and he should not be risking it.
Not just that, Prince Oberyn had decided to stay with them for a few months more. He did not know what the dornishman was planning but was told, "It was to teach the uppity wolves a lesson in humility", and as such was all good in his book.
What neither party realized was that Oberyn's stay with the Targaryen siblings averted a very unfortunate fate. If the dornishman hadn't stayed there, once Ser Darry died, the two childrens would be kicked out and be forced to beg for a living. Prince Visereys would earn the title "The Beggar King". Turns out the actions of Lord Voldemort always helped him, knowingly or not. After all, Voldemort's mother strongly suggested him that he should embarrass the old way and steal Daenerys Targaryen as his bride.
Daenerys was happy as she got a playmate in form of Oberyn's bastard daughter. Visereys was happy since he got to ogle Oberyn's paramour who had a tendency to run around half-naked. Ser Darry was happy since there would be someone to protect the children after his death. Only the viper was not happy because he was unsure of the future. It was too uncertain, too clouded. Somehow, he had this feeling that death was staring upon him.
A random mountain man
By the old gods! Our day has come. It is time to take vengeance. These filthy andals suffered by the hands of our Northern brethren. Soon, they will suffer by our hands. The chosen of old gods, Lord Voldemort, Master of the North, chieftain of all those with blood of first men, had sent a messenger to us about providing support. And what a support that was! For the first time in a thousand year we had proper steel armor, weapon and food. He even supplied a few weapon trainers. Most of us had some issue with the weapon trainer but after a few fights, the trainer got along just fine.
By the gods, within a year we, the mountain men will be a proper fighting force. A mountain army we shall be. No longer will we be confined to raiding villages, soon we will be raiding castles and killing the knights.
All you proud Vale Knights, we are coming and with us, comes death!
House Mallister, Riverland
Riverland was still in chaos but not as much as it used to. House Mallister had solidified it's hold as the new Lord Paramount. Lord Jason Mallister was a very busy Lord Paramount – his lands were not in peace. Brigands and rioters all around. A significant majority of small folks had absconded towards the Twins, which had been taken by the North. He had assumed that after the Iron Born threat was done, they would turn back but oh no. They were all staying in that narrow slip of land. It meant empty land, little food production. All around trouble.
But, he was confident that he could handle the place well enough. With his heir Patrek Mallister (15) and daughter, Leha Mallister (5), his lineage was more or less secure. The loot from Pyke had added nicely to his coffers. All in all, he was good. Or, that was what he thought.
The one thing neither he, nor any one else thought of was what Lord Voldemort intended to do with Riverlands. Ned Stark did have a son with the very deceased Catelyn Tully. A son named Robb. And, Voldemort was not going to let Riverlands out of his total control, was he? Mallister might be the Lord Paramount now, but with a daughter the same age as Robb, lets just say, death eaters are an expert at removing obstructions to their Master's dream. His heir would not grow to be a lord, that was for sure.
Mance Rayder, Somewhere in the far Northern
For the past three month, Night's watch deserter Mance Rayder had been running for his life. Insane – Half insane fear, half from cold and a bit from hunger, the once fearless Ranger was a trembling mess. During his journey to the far North while escaping the Night Watch party chasing him, he had encountered the Ice demons. White Walkers. The bane of humanity. Somehow, he had managed to escape the blue-eyed icy bastards and was now headed towards wildling terriotry, safe from any pursuing rangers.
Just like that, all his fear was shuffled sideways and the only feeling that was left, it couldn't be summed in any manner. Where did the fear of the white walkers go? Where did the fear of being consumed by the wights go? He had no clue.
If only Mance Rayder was familiar with the ongoing of Westeros and the stories of Lord Voldemort, then he might have understood what had happened. After all, a bunch of juiced up necromancers and their icy constructs did not count much against Lord Voldemort, the darkest of all dark lords. There number might be an issue but fiendfyre, the fire from hell devoured magic. And well, wights existed because of magic.
Despite his fear vanishing, Mance Rayder was determined to unite the wildlings or as they called themselves, the Free-folks and march through the wall. The watch might have raised him but strictly speaking, they orphaned him first and then raised him to kill his own kind. His duty was to the survival of Free-folks, his own people. Fuck the Night Watch. Fuck the White Walkers. That was what he thought.
Unknown to him, the aforementioned dark lord would be paying him a visit soon. And his fate would change.
Three Eyed Crow and Children of the Forest
Lord Brynden "BloodRaven" Rivers, legitimized bastard of Aegon IV Targaryen had lived as the Three Eyed Crow since around 252 AC, not that anyone really knew that. Since about 40 years ago, he had lived fused inside a weirwood tree dreaming of a bleak future. A future with nothing but darkness and cold.
But, since the last few years the future wasn't so bleak anymore. At least for the North anyway. And for some limited, sea facing parts of Westeros – areas with beach. He had no idea what that meant. That long night was supposed to start from the North and shadow over the Westeros. The Starks were to be destroyed. Yet, the future he saw was nothing like that. The Starks were everywhere. He could not see specific face or names, but he knew the Wolf banner would be flying high and mighty.
And then he saw the best thing. The old gods would be in a world of pain soon. That was the best vision he had ever had. It was those tree hugging bastards that had consigned him to this wretched life of living as a stinking, rotten tree trunk. Foresee the future but incapable of intervention. Observe the happiness of his once while friends but not participate.
The only company he had were the long lived children of forest. Melancholic fools – that is what they were. Always crying about how the world was going to end and they would go extinct. They had magic didn't they? Why can't they do something about the end of world then?
While he was thinking such morbid thoughts, the thought process of children of forest was on a whole different spectrum. The had just realized that magic was much stronger. Each and every one of them could feel magic singing through their veins. And, it was growing stronger and stronger with each passing day. Soon enough they might be able to truly live again instead of hiding here in the trees. Why, they might even survive the long night. With magic coming back, there was no telling what they might be able to do next. But, if only they could get this stinking Three Eyed Crow off their lands.