Yes, season 8 was rushed. But was it bad? No, I don't think so. Some parts were missing, others were unclear, but if you read between the lines, the ending makes sense. Anyway, this story starts seventeen years after the ending of game of thrones. Nothing in the timeline was changed, but I did make some assumptions where they weren't clearly stated. Comments are appreciated. Enjoy!
PROLOGUE
"Naya! Not so fast!"
"Come on, Baliq! You're going to lose if you don't keep up", Nayeli called back.
Laughing, she ran through the bushes. Uncle wouldn't be mad if he realized they were gone. The council was just so boring, and Nayeli wanted to stand on top of the mountain one last time. They'd forbidden the Westerosi to leave, but Arya and Gerion said they were going to try anyway. She had heard them talking about it when they thought she was asleep.
Their secret would be safe with her, Naya decided. She wouldn't tell anyone, not even Baliq, who couldn't keep his mouth shut anyways.
She dove beneath the branches of the bumpy tree. One, two, three, four large steps, then she sharply turned left. She zigzagged across the narrow path along the river and turned right at the crossroads, running to the stream. She carefully climbed onto the large tree that had fallen across, stretching her arms to keep balance. Sliding from the tree onto the rocks sticking from the water, Naya hopped from stone to stone, and then she was across.
Quiet and graceful. Just like a Vayakh, she thought, smiling.
Baliq would never be a Vayakh. Her little brother crawled along the tree with the speed of a sloth, clamping his legs around and grunting with effort. He nearly lost his balance on the stones, and when he'd finally made it across, he was red-faced and panting.
"Did I lose?", he asked in a small voice, pouting.
"We're not there yet, silly", Nayeli said, ruffling his black hair. It was too long, always hanging in his face.
Uncle Daiza had promised he'd cut it, but every time they asked, he suddenly had more urgent things to do.
"Naya!"
Giggling, Baliq swatted her hand away.
"Come on, then. Last one to reach the top has to help making dinner!"
Naya ran up the steep hill. She went slower this time, so that Baliq could keep up. Maybe she'd let him win today. He was three years younger than her, so it was only fair. Besides, she didn't mind helping with dinner. Skinning the fish didn't bother her as much as it did Baliq, although it was a messy job to do.
When they were nearly there, Baliq raced past her. At the top, he skidded to a halt.
"You won, baby brother", Naya said when she'd reached the top. She meant to ruffle his hair again, expecting him to say he was not a baby, as usual, but his silence made her halt.
His eyes were wide as saucers, and he was standing very still.
Naya followed his gaze. They could see the whole valley from up here, the river running below, the tall Qoj mountains and the Stychis waterfall in the west, the Endless Sea in the east.
Westeros was somewhere on the other side of that sea. Gerion Lannister had told her a lot of stories about his and Arya's homeland. When they got there, Nayeli had promised herself, she would stand on top of that giant wall of ice and walk through the ruins of Harrenhal. She'd see Arya's brother, the all-seeing king, and she'd touch a dragon skull. But first, she would sail across the black sea with Baliq and uncle Daiza, something no one had ever done before.
There was a llama farm not a hundred feet away from them, the people living there fast asleep. Zjaqi was lying in the grass, and old Pajam sat lazily against the wall, hat covering his face.
It was the farm Baliq was staring at.
"What's wrong, Baliq? They're just sleeping", Nayeli said.
"No", Baliq whispered.
"Not sleeping."
Naya looked closer. The llamas were all laying on their sides, she saw. That was strange. Llamas didn't lie down to sleep.
She put a step closer, but Baliq grabbed her wrist.
"Naya, don't."
She pulled her arm loose.
"Calm down, Baliq. I just want to take a look. Besides, Pajam and Zjaqi are always nice to us."
Baliq shook his head.
"Something is wrong. We should go, Naya. I'm scared."
Nayeli rolled her eyes. Baliq was scared of everything. He was scared of the Vayakh, of the stories about the mist, of Arya Stark and sometimes even of uncle Daiza.
"Go back then, if you want to. I'm going to take a look."
She walked to the farm. Baliq didn't follow.
"Naya, please come back. What about the mist?", he said.
The mist was just a story the grownups made up to scare the children. When their mother had died, everyone said she had been killed by the mist. They were lying. Mist was air, it couldn't kill anyone.
Ignoring her brother, Naya reached the farm.
It was very quiet here. She couldn't hear the crickets or the birds anymore, a cold chill running down her spine. A strange smell was coming from the farm.
Zjaqi, Pajam's wife, was lying in the grass. Her eyes were wide open, staring at the sky.
"Zjaqi?"
Silence.
When Naya touched her cheek, the skin was cold to the touch.
She was dead.
Naya pulled her hand away. All the llamas were dead too, she realized, and Pajam's thick belly didn't move up and down like it usually did when he was taking a nap.
"Naya!", Baliq called.
He pointed to something behind her.
Mist, he mouthed.
A chill ran down her spine.
The mist is just a story, it's not real.
"How can you always be so brave? Aren't you ever afraid?", she'd asked Arya Stark once. Arya never seemed afraid.
"We're all afraid sometimes", Arya told her, playing with that wicked dagger she called Fang. Her eyes were dark and sad, her voice low.
"What matters is how we face our fears."
"How do you face yours?", Naya asked.
Arya had smiled a bit at that.
"You only tell them one thing, Nayeli. Not today."
Not today, Naya thought as she slowly turned around.
Quiet and strong like the Vayakh.
Not today.
The house was hidden behind a thick cloud of silver smoke. It was swirling very slowly, all kinds of colors flashing through the thin tendrils.
Right in the middle of the mist was a beautiful woman. Her black hair whirled softly in the wind, and she was smiling.
Her mother stretched out her hand.
"Naya, no!", Baliq shouted.
Nayeli ignored him. Mother was here, couldn't he see? It wasn't so dangerous, the stories about the mist were wrong, they were all lies, mother would never hurt her or her brother.
"I tried to be brave and strong and kind for you, mama", Nayeli said, tears stinging in her eyes.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Vayakh didn't cry.
Her mother was all grey and smoky like the fog. She's only a ghost, Naya realized. But she was here, wasn't she?
Naya stepped closer, rubbing the tears from her eyes. She had to be brave, even if it was difficult.
"I miss you", she told her mother.
She reached for her mother's hand. She just had to touch her, only once, and then maybe she would come back. Maybe Naya could save her.
"Naya!", Baliq shouted again.
When Naya tried to touch her mother's fingers, she only grasped air. The mist began to curl around her, wild like a storm, and all the light disappeared. Naya felt cold all over. Cold sweat ran down her spine, her heart beating in her throat. She tried to pull her hand away, but mother's ghostly fingers held her wrist tight.
A thousand lights appeared from the darkness. They were eyes, belonging to all the people loved and lost, but their faces were blurry. Bony hands stretched out, tugging at her, trying to pull her closer. Two of the faces belonged to Pajam and Zjaqi.
Naya tried to tug her arm loose, to run, or scream for help, but she was frozen in place.
"It's alright, my love", her mother said.
Naya shook her head, tears streaming down her face.
"No, mama, no, please, let me go. Let me go, let me go..."
A monster stepped from the mist, tall and gold, heaving a silver sword high above his head.
Naya closed her eyes.
Not today.
The sword whistled as it came down.