A Song of Frost & Flame

by Chimaera1201

When Robert's Rebellion broke out, the ancient friend and ally of the Starks, House Tormont offered their oldest daughter to the Lords of the Corridor for their alliance. Powerful and respected, the Taugere family kept the way north safe and at peace for thousands of years. But a less known prophecy may declare if the world will freeze over again, or burn in the fires.

16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16 – THE DESCENT

It was a warm sunlit day, with the bright light on the lands of the Corridor. And by the time that the sun touched its highest point in the sky, Milla had joined Claira in the lady's common room in the sun tower while Gavin had asked Mandeline for another short walk in their garden. She felt positive that more and more wondrous things were blooming all over their home. She glanced up at her daughter whom was now just a couple of weeks from her very first name day, where she sat playing with a set of wooden blocks that maester Adlyn had provided, and a young handmaiden of perhaps ten and two years assigned to her care as her watcher sat at her side. She smiled secretly, hoping to discuss the possibility of hosting the event in their feast hall with a fine feast, and asking Jeody for a baked cake, remembering his wonderful creation with their wedding; then she breathed in savouring their home. Its people, its calmness, its warmth and the happiness she had here with all of them; wishing that she would never need to leave this place. She looked up at her friend, lost in the moment where she and Claira sat on the soft fur covered chairs, little Rychon wrapped in a light blanket, sleeping in her arms at nearly three months old as she rocked with him, watching him as she mostly did. He was a rather quiet baby, and was only occasionally heard whimpering instead of complete bawling, which was quickly tended to; but even now, she rarely let go of him unless needed, and apart from Raeghun, it was only to her and Panora; but she granted her that. This deep, magical, unequivocal love. The last of the guests attending his presentation left Mount Ardor a fortnight past, and the hold returned to peace. She smiled leaning back in her chair, and brought a deep breath into herself, invigorating her senses and her eyes cast at the window, only slightly open to reveal the vast green of their country, and deep blue of the sky outside.

"What a beautiful day, my lady. Our lives truly come to colour on days like these." Milla breathed smiling, admiring her friend and how well she conformed to motherhood, and Claira sat back in the chair.

"Yes, we must appreciate days like these more." she agreed, but her mind was wandering. She had been experiencing pain in her back for the past two days, at first waking just past midnight to an agonising pulse next to her spine. She sought out Maester Adlyn, who had given her drops, but it did little to relieve the pain; and since this morning she felt strange. Faint, unsettled and discomposed... The disquieting sensation of prickling throughout her body made it difficult to ease, and even her favoured chair with its many furs and pillows felt hard and uncomfortable. A serving girl brought a tray with fresh tea from the kitchens along with a plate of crispels, and left it on the low table before departing again. Milla stood to pour the tea, and brought a cup over to the lady, placing it on the table next to her and admiring the little boy yet again, and she softly brought her fingertips to him, stroking the dark hair on his brow.

"I wish my Bella slept like that." she mentioned, bringing back many times that she found sleep too bothersome and would rather spend her time fidgeting and frolicking, and Claira smiled at that.

"Oh, it's only until sunset; then he's as awake as you can find." she chuckled, but then winced at the pain in her back, the stabbing to her nerves. Milla's eyes went to her face instantly.

"Are you al right, my lady?" she asked as Claira breathed in and exhaled, she moved slightly trying to find a better position; but still the pain would not fade. If anything, it seemed worse now. But she brushed it off, only believing that it must have been a compressed nerve or a pulled muscle, and it would disappear in a few days.

"Yes, I must influence my lord husband to acquire us a new mattress." she tried to dismiss it, and reached for the cup next to her. Her finger slid through the handle, and she lifted the cup from the table, ignoring the numbness in her limbs. As it moved over the edge, it slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, the dark liquid spilling across the carpet and wood boards and Claira shot forward through a small grimace, both painful and frustrated.

"I'm sorry, Milla. I don't know what's wrong with me today, I'm so clumsy." she scolded herself, but Milla's hand lay on her shoulder.

"It's al right, my lady. It's just tea." She eased, feeling concerned that something was not normal. Then turned to see a group of girls passing the door, and called to one of them.

"Please have cook Jeody send a scullion to us." she instructed, and the girl acknowledged her order with a slight curtsy and left. Milla's eyes went back to the lady, and she paused for a moment, examining her closely. She seemed paler than usual, her skin emitting a strange grey.

"Are you sure you're al right?" she enquired again, and Claira looked up at her, once more bringing a deep breath into her dolorous body.

"Yes. I believe I could do with some fresh air." she said and forced herself to her feet to go to the window, intent on opening it wide for more air with little Rychon still in her arms, and Milla's gaze followed her. But three steps away, on the dark blue carpet that covered her common room, she suddenly stopped, taking another deep breath that was unsteady and also alarming before turning to her friend, eyes wide and afraid.

"Milla, take my baby." she instructed, and in an instant Milla moved forward raising her arms to take Rychon from her, then brought him to her chest and held him gently against her, all while watching the lady of their hold; unexpectedly Claira seemed distressed as she stared at her hands, flexing the fingers before making fists and opening her hands again. Milla felt the unease fill her and instinctively her arms grew slightly tighter around Rychon.

"What's wrong?" she asked, and Claira looked up at her, the blue eyes shimmering.

"My hands..." suddenly she sank to the floor as an abrupt weakness claimed her legs, and Milla felt her nerves erupt in terror.

"Falgon!" Milla called, almost screamed in her sudden irrefutable panic, startling the child in her arms, and her eyes went to him as he started to whimper softly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. It's al right..." she held him close, rocking from side to side, as she did her best to soothe him through her own trembling voice; while Falgon entered form his post at the door rushing to Claira on the carpet and kneeling beside her.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Claira looked up at him, distraught and confused.

"I can't feel my hands..." she whispered, and his hand closed over hers, he felt the fingers cold as ice burning in his. And then his left arm wrapped around her back as he smiled calmly.

"It will be al right." he assured, and looked up at Milla.

"Lady Milla, if you'd be so kind, please find maester Adlyn." he asked, and she left the room with Rychon clutched in her arms. He looked back at Claira.

"Your grace, can you stand?" he asked, and she looked down to the floor.

"I'll try." she said, feeling the sensation of prickles racing through the muscles. She brought her hand up and took hold of his shoulder, grateful for the support of his arm around her back and moved forward. With some exertion she managed to get to her feet, the pain in her back now a throbbing that stretched to her right shoulder and croup, and the same numbness in her hands stretching up to her knees from her ankles. She looked at the young handmaiden, who'd taken Bella close to her displaying a brightly coloured toy to shield her from the unnerving activities, but she'd been staring at them since the weakness dragged the lady to the carpet; fear and disarray in her eyes. Claira smiled at her, trying to bring ease and comfort back to her.

"I'm fine, Lani. I just feel a bit strange, that's all." she assured, and the girl nodded as a bit of colour returned to her panic-struck cheeks, and Claira looked at Falgon who stood supporting her. He nodded, waiting to escort her safely to the lord's wing. She took another breath, preparing herself to endure the throbbing to her back through the steps. Oh, please don't fall... she drew her knee slowly up and moved forward, but as she stepped down the floor vanished from beneath her and gravity pulled her down. Her muscles tensed painfully as she expected the contact with the wood boards, but another strong arm caught behind her knees and hauled her high up from the floor, and she rested against Falgon's chest, the unique smell emitting from him floating around her. She blushed slightly, and smiled even through the pain passing over her spine.

"You really need to stop doing that." she said softly, and he regarded her calmly.

"Doing what, your grace?" he asked innocently.

"Catching me." she said as she looked up, trying to distinguish the unequalled colour of his dark eyes above her, and he smiled back at her.

"I will never let you fall." he assured her, and then looked at the young maiden.

"Please be so kind as to see to it that little lady Bella is taken care of until lady Milla or nurse Mandeline comes for her." he asked, and the girl nodded. He left the common room then with his queen in his arms, heading for the lord's wing and sending a page passing by to find Raeghun immediately.

By evenfall, a severe illness had taken hold of the lady. Raeghun returned to the lord's wing from the village where he discussed steel and iron supplies with the smith, the moment he received word of her fall. They did what they could to comfort her, pillows arranged under her back, neck and head for support, more around her, and beneath her legs. Maester Adlyn spent the afternoon in the lord's wing doing whatever he could, but her body refused everything that was administered, and not even water was welcome to her stomach, and by night Raeghun stood with maester Adlyn at the door leading into their chamber.

"You have to do something!" he pleaded, having watched his wife worsen and weaken rapidly over the course of the late afternoon until now, and maester Adlyn spared a glance at the figure laying in the bed, rummaging through his mind, his thoughts gliding over the books in his cases for something... anything that he hasn't applied already. It was worrying, that none of his aids brought her any relief.

"I'm trying, my lord. But her body is rejecting everything that is given. I've never seen anything like this." he said dourly, and Raeghun's powerful hands took hold of the maester's robe, unintentionally harshly.

"Save her! Whatever it takes, save her!" he ordered, and then lowered his head, the anger melting away into desperation.

"Please..." he begged, and the maester's hands found his gently, compassionately as the deep brown eyes took him in.

"I will do everything that I can, I swear." he promised. Then Raeghun's eyes returned to his.

"Return to your books, find something. Send out riders to find whatever you need..." he paused, lowering his voice in the space that surrounded them.

"Please... I can't..." he trailed off, and then the maester's hand went to his shoulder.

"If it is in my power, I will bring her back from this, my lord." he said, and then Raeghun's hands left him. Maester Adlyn bowed to the lord, and then departed the lord's wing to return to his tower and continue his search. Raeghun breathed deeply, and then turned to enter the chamber, making his way to the bed and sat down next to her on a chair that was brought closer from their hearth, his hands wrapping around her cold fingers. Her eyes opened slowly and she looked at him.

"I'm so sorry. You have so many responsibilities, and now I lay this on you as well." she breathed, and he smiled. None of that mattered, the only thing that did now was her.

"Don't worry about that now, focus on getting better." he encouraged her, and her cold hand went to his face, the icy quiver evident against his skin.

"I love you..." she whispered, and his hand closed over hers while the fingers of his left hand touched her cheek. What should I do?

"And I love you." he kissed her hand, and then laid the palm back against his cheek, the cold driving away the sting of the heat to his face. What can I do?

"Take care of our son..." he heard her voice softly, and his fingers tensed around hers.

"Don't talk like that. You'll be fine, maester Adlyn will find something." he reassured her, and she eased back into the pillows. He believed it, he had to. He had to believe that their maester will find a cure for whatever illness suddenly struck her down so severely.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so tired." she breathed wearily, and then suddenly shot up through the pain with her hand pressed over her mouth. He quickly brought a pail up to her, positioning it in front of her and then watched sympathetically while her fingers strained white against the wood as she gasped and retched, his free hand rubbing her back. There was nothing left, so her body resorted to exhuming a white foam. Again, he felt helpless, powerless, useless. I wish I knew... She finally breathed again, and he replaced the pail next to the table before he helped her ease back into the pillows, wishing he could do more.

"Try to sleep." he urged, and then he resumed his place on the chair next to her as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the mattress at her side and holding his clasped hands over his mouth as he watched her where she lay breathing, the breaths sounding dense and strained as she slowly drifted off to something resembling sleep. I wish I knew... A soft knock at the door drew his attention.

"Enter." the door slowly opened, and a serving girl entered carrying a tray.

"Lady Milla advised that milord and lady will not be joining the rest of the household for supper." she said as she came over. The tray held a plate stocked with glazed chicken breast, cream and cheese stripped vegetable casserole, and pumpkin fritters, a tall goblet of sweet ale, a bowl of light soup, a heel of bread and another chalice of pressed grape juice. She set it down on a dresser.

"Thank you. Has my son been tended to?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, milord. Nurse Panora took him this afternoon, and I believe she's been trying to feed him. She has asked for goat's milk." she confirmed, and he felt eased that Rychon was already safely in his room with his nurse, but there was still decisions to be made and he had to choose the best option, for everyone. After a moment, he turned towards her.

"Thank you. Please summon lord Berin and lady Milla to me." he instructed, and she left them. He remained sitting there as he did, contemplating the choices but had to admit that there were not many options open to him, and it tore at him knowing Claira might not forgive him. But they didn't know what was wrong, they didn't know what this was, and if there was any risk it could be too great. He glanced at the food left for them on the dresser, in all honesty having no desire to eat. But decided he would try to have something once he returned, and perhaps encourage his wife to eat as well, albeit a spoonful of the light soup. Shadows grew longer, and then another knock at the door sounded before he allowed entry to the same serving girl.

"They await you in your hall, milord." she informed, and he stood up turning to make his way down to the lord's hall.

"Thank you. You may retire if you wish." he said, sounding suddenly tired.

"Thank you, milord. I... I wish you a good... a pleasant..." she started, but her courtesies did not fit the situation. Then she breathed, trying to find some kind of composure.

"Sleep well." Raeghun returned, and he eyes lightened.

"I hope our lady recovers soon." she curtsied slightly, and left the wing. Raeghun breathed in deeply, and then descended the steps to the hall where Berin and Milla awaited him, little Bella on her father's arm resting her head on his shoulder, half asleep. He approached them, and then paused, regarding them as they bowed their heads to him.

"You summoned us, my lord?" Milla asked, watching the burning blue eyes on them, wrought with concern.

"I did. This has been a dreadful day, and now I find myself asking more of you." he said softly, almost guiltily as he glanced at the hearth.

"I request that you, and your daughter occupy the lord's wing with us, for the time being." he said, and they looked at each other in surprise.

"Raeghun, we're not Taugere's..." Berin started as he looked back at him.

"That really couldn't bother me, right now. Understand that I ask this of you, not as retainers to the Taugere name, but as my family; and I came to this conclusion rationally." he determined as he looked at Berin.

"You grew up with me, in these halls. To me, you are as much a Taugere as I am; if my father had the mind for it, he would have named you one of us. But you remember what he told us, about the difference between family and family." Berin glanced down, recalling the words of their father.

"Of course." And then Raeghun looked at Milla, apology edged over his features.

"It pains me to ask this of you, Milla. Claira has always refused the service of a wet nurse, but she trusts you; and in the state that my wife is in right now, she will not be able to care for our son. We don't know the extent of the illness, so nursing from his mother could be a risk to my son. But it remains imperative that he stays close to her. Panora has been trying to feed him, but I'm not aware on its success..." he explained, and she understood what it was that he meant.

"My lord, I would gladly surrogate your heir, until it is no longer needed." she accepted, and Raeghun smiled, relieved at the eagerness to her eyes; then she looked up at Berin, who glanced at her and then back at the lord, a soft smile on his face.

"Lord Raeghun, this is an honour that we will never be able to equal. But we will do everything we can to help you, and lady Claira." he promised, and Raeghun nodded.

"Shall I tend to Rychon now?" Milla asked.

"I would be grateful. Thank you, Milla." he breathed, and she passed to the stairway up to the second chamber while Berin remained with Raeghun in the hall.

"No change?" he asked, and Raeghun shook his head slowly.

"Only worse. Her body refuses any supplements or aids, she can't keep anything down... she can barely lift her head from the pillows..." he told, the bitterness in the words cutting through his gut.

"She's becoming weaker and weaker, and I can't do anything to help her..." he felt a hand to his shoulder.

"She will draw her strength from you, Raeghun. Support her, comfort her, she will recover. I'm sure of it." Berin assured, and the blue eyes met his.

"Thank you, for everything. You may have your preparations made." he allowed, and Berin nodded before leaving the wing then. He remained there for another few moments, watching the shadows created by the fire as they danced across the walls. Then he made his way back to the chamber.

Falgon ascended the stairs to the maester's chamber to return the books he'd borrowed, and perhaps search for new ones. He found the maester sitting between his clutter of books and scrolls, paging through a heavy leather-bound tome.

"My apologies for disturbing you, maester." he pardoned as he stepped through the doorway, and the maester looked up at him.

"No, not at all ser Falgon. Help yourself, you know where they are." he said, motioning to his many wide bookcases and then returned his attention to the book in his hands. Falgon crossed the room and replaced the books, then pored over the shelves.

"I don't think I've ever met a man who reads as much as you do. You've already gone through five of my bookcases and half of that shelf." the maester mentioned, and Falgon smiled softly not turning away from the bookcase.

"I enjoy reading. It's an easy way to pass the nights when sleep evades me, instead of just staring at the cap of a chamber all night." he said, and the maester glanced at him as he took a book off the shelf and examined the title: Seven Souls. Even in the midst of this discord, he was calm and collected, and still kept to his normal routine. It was almost reassuring in the chaos. A serving girl entered the chamber with another tray holding a bowl of nuts and a goblet of sweet red and placed it on a clear corner of the littered table, and the maester reached over to claim a hand full of nuts.

"Thank you, my dear." he said, and she remained standing there for a moment longer.

"The lady won't... leave us, will she?" she asked softly, her voice tender with emotion; and the maester's attention went back to her; and he sighed heavily.

"I don't know, I can't tell you 'yes' or 'no'. But should the gods grant me the wisdom and strength to do so, I will find a way to help her." he vowed once again, ans the girl cast her eyes down as she nodded.

"Good night, maester." she greeted and then turned to leave. Falgon had seized three books from the shelf, and then turned back to the maester.

"Thank you, maester. I will return them to you." he thanked, and then saw the maester's shoulders sagging as he looked up and through the window, staring at the deep black sky with its many glinting stars.

"They call me 'the healer'. Such a joke." he said softly, his words laced with resentment; and Falgon approached him.

"You've done what others could not, maester." he said trying to encourage him, and then the maester looked back at him.

"And in times when it really mattered, I couldn't do anything. When lord Vicon fell from his horse as a boy, I couldn't do anything. When the pox fell on lady Maryne as a girl, I couldn't do anything. When the poisonous infection of the wound to lord Rychard's knee spread and fever took him as a man, I couldn't do anything... Right now, I... I can't do anything..." he said bitterly, but Falgon smiled at him.

"Do not doubt yourself, maester. All the silver links to your chain, you've earned because of your determination. You'll find a way. I know you will. You use wild herbs, berries, grass, even bark and other items in ways that no other could think of." he assured with confidence, and then bowed to him slightly.

"Good night, maester." he greeted, and then left. Maester Adlyn remained staring through the little window at the stars, wild herbs, berries, grass, even bark and then suddenly returned his attention to the tome, turning a handful of pages as he scoured through the book. He searched through the night, and finally by morning he shoved a leather satchel and a scribbled note into a rider's hands and sent him with a party of five into the countryside. As they waited anxiously for the riders' return, the lady forced a spoonful of sweetened porridge into her system, which also did not stay and her strength waned as the day dragged on into noon. Again Raeghun sat at her side holding her hand in his, leaving much of the matters to his court master. The wing was active, castle hands moving some of the Trentin's belongings into the fourth bed chamber.

"Maester Adlyn sent riders out this morning, they'll return soon." he encouraged as his hand tightened slightly around hers, the chill of her skin seeping into his. Her eyes remained on the canopy of the bed, tracing the lines of the carvings to keep her mind from leaving her as well, and trying to distract herself from her body that was now a single throbbing mass from her neck down to her ankles, like hammers pounding away at every muscle, the endless maddening shiver through her, and the constant wretched nausea that left her stomach painful from the heaving.

"I'm cold..." she whispered, and he stood to cover her with the thick feathered quilt that stretched over the foot of the bed. Apart from the furs, this was their warmest blanket, and despite sunlight spilling through windows and an open door facing the west, he confessed that there was a coolness in the air that would not subside. He studied her, the pale skin that now seemed to almost give off a hue of blue, her lips were chapped from the dehydration and a darkness was set on her features. He cast a glance through the door, open to the east. Please hurry...

"Where is Rychon?" she enquired, and he looked back at her.

"Milla is watching over him. She will bring him to see you before sunset, I promise." he eased, and could make out a weak smile. She asked for him continuously, but all he could do was to reassure her.

"I'm sorry, my love. All of my obligations are neglected while I lay here... Especially him... He... He must be so hungry by now... And I can't see him..." she breathed as she dissolved into tears, and his hand went to her face to calm her, the skin cold to his touch.

"Claira, he's fine. He's perfectly fine. Don't worry about that now, you must get better first." he soothed, and her eyes closed as she breathed deeply, allowing some easiness to come back to her.

"I wish it didn't have to be like this, but I'm so tired..." he stood, and lowered himself to press his lips to her brow, the only part of her being that felt warm from fever.

"Try to sleep. Everything will be al right." he continued to encourage her, and she turned her head slightly as he turned away from her, slipping into slumber.

"I will return to you shortly." he whispered, and then left to evaluate the state of Mount Ardor as best he could. Most of life continued as it did every other day, but there was an iniquity over an ominous silence throughout the halls. The guards came and went as they exchanged posts, castle hands, scullions and serving girls prepared the southern hall for the evening meal, others cleaned and prepared the wings of the castle, the smell of searing meat drifted from the kitchen. He found Falgon standing in front of the great hearth staring at the flames, and he approached him.

"Ser Falgon." the sentinel turned and bowed, the light from the flames brightening the edges of the pin fastened to his cloak.

"How will I serve, sire?" he asked before straightening again.

"I appreciate your devotion, but you are not confined to the hold. You may fill your time with the others." he said.

"Thank you, sire. But I will remain." he insisted, and Raeghun nodded.

"How is she?" he asked suddenly, and Raeghun stared at him. What do I say? How do I explain this..? He turned his eyes to the light of the great hearth in silence, again expanding his chest in a bitter, almost hollow breath.

"She's ill, Falgon. She's gravely ill. She may be dying, and the maester doesn't know what is wrong..." It left a stab to his chest, even the thought was heartbreaking.

"He will find something, soon. He's been working relentlessly. But you should return to her, she needs you." Falgon bowed his head, and returned his attention to the flames. After seeing to what he could, he returned to the lord's wing and resumed his place next to her, placing his hand on her; feeling her shudder.

"I can't... seem to... get warm..." she whispered through the strain to her body, and looked towards him, new tears to her stricken eyes.

"I'm so tired... but everything hurts..." he thought for a moment, and then stood stripping off his clothing. He could do this little bit to help her, he's always been warmer than she was. He went around to the other side of the bed and joined her under the thick blankets, wrapping his left arm around her waist while the right closed over her arm and shoulders, his right leg covered her hip and thigh and he felt her tremble against him, the chill coming off her like steam would rise from a warm surface.

"Does this help?" he breathed against her, the warm air flowing down her neck, and she eased slightly into him.

"Yes... Thank you... my love..." the quiver slowly faded away as he held her, passing the warmth from his body to hers, and he thought she could sleep then as he listened to the shallow pulsing breaths become steady and even. He looked up to see the orange light of dusk, and long shadows against the wall. Please... Please hurry...

Maester Adlyn paced his tower gathering up bowls, bottles and boilers while Berin stood watching the waters through the tower window, seeing the last of the sun's glow disappear over the edge of the Sunset Sea, wondering on the circumstances. Why was this happening? How could they not know, what the cause of this was? What could they do, to make anything better for them? Milla was happy to care for Rychon, but the air around the castle was morbid and strained.

"Have you found anything?" he asked, and heard the maester sigh.

"Nothing for certain yet, but I will continue my search until I do. Hopefully, the items I've sent for will give me time, if nothing else." he said, recalling the note he'd written early this morning. Aids for pain, for fever, for nausea, for weakness, for calmness, and for breathlessness. Books lay scattered all around his chamber, stacked open on each other and scrolls littered all over his wide desk where he arranged the bowls, bottles and boilers.

"She's so young, this shouldn't have happened to her." Berin breathed, looking back at the maester.

"No, it shouldn't have. Fate is cruel, and it often strikes at the righteous; but I will not allow her to be stolen away from us if there is anything I can do." the maester determined, and turned to Berin.

"I will keep trying..." he said again softly, and Berin's stare went back to the blue of the ocean under the orange glow of twilight on the horizon. He found some comfort in the maester's confidence, not too long ago he seemed at a loss. And now, he was intent on on finding a way... of finding a cure. Suddenly, a face appeared in the doorway, a young boy leaning against the arch panting but the eyes wide and enthusiastic.

"Maester Adlyn, the riders!" they passed a quick glance between each other, and then rushed down to the Hall of Fire to find the group waiting at the base of the grand staircase, and the first rider handed the satchel to the maester. He opened it quickly to examine the contents, and smiled brightly. Everything he'd sent for was there.

"Yes. Yes, this is perfect." he turned, hurrying back up the stairways to start work on the items held in the leather satchel; for pain Goldlace, for nausea Mistveil, for fever Fireberries, for weakness Deeproot, for calmness Starstem and for breathlessness Lightleaf. In the confines of his chamber he boiled and pressed and ground and mashed until all was prepared, and then rushed to the lord's wing with liquids and ointments and powders to apply his aids, finding Raeghun on the chair next to the bed clothed only in breeches, with his hand around Claira's where she lay sleeping.

"My lord." he greeted as he entered the chamber, and Raeghun looked up at him.

"Evening maester." he returned softly as the maester made his way to his side.

"She's finally sleeping. Perhaps we shouldn't wake her, just yet. Let her rest..." his blue eyes returned to her face, peaceful and without pain.

"Just a little bit longer..."

Claira woke to an empty chamber, only the light from the wall torches and the crackling of the fireplace broke the silence. Slowly she sat up, finding that the pain and the cold was gone, and she looked down to see a dress of white velvet with black ribbon seams. Her attention went to the open door facing the west, registering that it was deep night as the stars glowed brightly in the black sky.

"Raeghun?" her voice drifted through the halls, and she could hear it echo in the stillness, an unnatural eerie calm to the air around her. She then lowered her feet to the floor where warm wooden boards met her, and stood feeling oddly stronger now. What happened? Barefoot she left the chamber to search for her people and made her way down the winding staircase that passed the bed chambers of the Taugere family, each of them vacant. She emerged through the arched doorway into the lord's hall; it too was deserted, with the only form of life the flames dancing in the hearth. Of course, the maidens had already retired. Raeghun must be in the Hollow with Berin and the others. But... Where is Panora, and Rychon? She moved forward to the door where she departed the lord's wing, and descended the pathway around the sun tower towards the Hollow, where the lord held counsel with his sentinels, vassals and banner-men. She stopped at the door and looked inside,

"Berin?" an empty chamber greeted her, still only the lights from the torches on the wall. Perhaps the southern hall, then. She continued down and came into the bare Hall of Fire with its many torches and burning fires, rounding the edge of the east staircase she glimpsed the great hearth glowing in all its rightful splendour. It gnawed at her, the uncharacteristic silence of her home, the absence of life...

"Milla?" her voice carried through the space, coming off the far walls and sounding too loud in this atmosphere. The light of fires glowed in every doorway and she moved forward, but as she passed the great hearth, she paused. Yes, their great hearth burned passionately; but there was no heat coming from the flames. Cautiously she stepped closer, and reached towards the fire, it licked at her hands, the flames sparking on her skin; and then she drew back and stared as the red glow left her fingertips. No burns, no flush to her skin, not even the heat she expected. How is this possible?

"Here..." a voice drew her attention, little more than a whisper. She turned and scanned the hall, but saw no one, only the contrasts of light and shadow.

"Raeghun?" she left the light of the hearth and descended the wide stairway of the hall, looking around.

"Falgon?" she searched every doorway. Where is everyone?

"Come..." the same whisper called to her, and she turned, her eyes resting on the way leading down to the depths of Mount Ardor. The vaults?

"Come..." the voice beckoned her. The tombs? She walked forward, drawn by the imitation of life that called to her and passed through the door, following the many steps down into humid air.

"Berin?" the flickering lights from the torches did little to discard the darkness, but forward she moved, irrespective of the unaccustomed path that led through the vaults rather than passing by them. She passed through the dungeon, the cells empty and undisturbed.

"Here..." the whisper called, and she walked again. Through another door, more steps led her down to the Ardent Tombs and warm currents enveloped her. More torches burnt on the walls as rows and rows upon rows of grave arches spanned the wide walls, and every statue had her husband's face.

"Raeghun?" she searched them, but nothing moved.

"Come..." the voice said, seeming closer now and she ran forward, passing countless torches, arches and the staring but unseeing faces. Finally, she reached another high door; old and cracked. She paused, staring at the wood that was blackened and brittle, then carefully took the old iron handle, that was moist to her touch. She pulled the heavy door, and it slowly edged open, revealing a narrow passage leading further down into the earth. Where does this lead?

"Falgon?" A strip of light lined the right side of the wall, leading away and into the darkness far beyond. For an instant she hesitated, taking a single step back to return the way she came, but then the voice called to her again.

"Here..." it came from the darkness. She glanced back at the space behind her, giving a final moment to the firelight and then walked again, forward into the darkness. The tunnel seemed endless as it wound down further and deeper into the earth. This can't possibly exist. No tunnel could stretch this far... Then she paused But I've been wrong before... Then she moved forward again, far into the darkness as it curved and wound and descended down and away from everything. At some point, after what seemed like hours of walking with nothing in the narrow space but the shadows and the little bit of light off the band between the stones of the wall, she started to consider turning around and heading back, but then as she rounded a curve a door came into view; deep blue-purple light spilling through it. Hopeful, she hurried forward and emerged through the black arch, gasping in astonishment before taking another few steps forward. She stood on a flat stone level, from where she examined what lay before her as her hands went rose up to cover her mouth. An endless city built of black stone stretched to the horizon, smoke blue mist hung between the shapes of buildings where pathways might be. To the right of the city stretched a sea of dark purple water, and the only light in this boundless expanse was a white glowing star above what might have been a small island off in the distance; and the sky was a terrifying sheen of blood behind black clouds. Where am I? I have to go back. She turned, and the door was gone. What remained was a wall of slick black stones. She breathed in deeply, and turned back towards the city before walking forward and standing on the edge of the level, with nothing but the dark endless range under miserable screaming and wailing voices, save for a slight degree of light emitting from the white strands in her hair.

Milla made her way up the grand staircase with Bella on her hip, and Mandeline at her side from the southern hall after ensuring that it was cleared for the evening. She'd seen to Rychon's feeding before coming down, and found ease in that Bella seemed to enjoy Jeody's servings as much as the rest of the hold. Berin left a few moments ago with the assurance to return to the lord's wing as soon as every thing was in order, and was still outside with instructions to the sentry towers and their rounds. She paused on the steps feeling drained, both physically and emotionally. Life itself seemed harder now, with almost no joy to be heard of, apart from their children who were still so small, with not yet the capability to understand.

"Are you al right, my lady?" she glanced at Mandeline, seeming just as tired as she was.

"I'll be fine." she said, trying to convince her and then looked down the hall, seeing the light of the hearth spilling from the guard's hall onto the stones. I haven't seen him at all, today... She wondered, and then turned to Mandeline again.

"Would you take Bella up for me, I'll just be a moment." she asked, and Mandeline took Bella into her arms before slowly continuing on her way up into the castle as Milla turned and headed back down the steps, across the Hall of Fire and took a quick look through the arch, where she found Falgon at his usual place in front of the hearth with a book in his hands. Reading, again... She took a step inside, watching him.

"Good evening, ser." he looked up, closing the book.

"Good evening, my lady." he returned, as she studied him.

"We haven't seen you all day, are you al right?" she asked, and he smiled.

"I'm fine, thank you. There's no need to concern yourself over me." he assured, and she sighed admiring his solidity.

"You're so calm. You must be the calmest one here, everyone else is anxious." she breathed as she slowly came closer, recalling the many faces, whispers, the questions and doubts, the fear and the sorrow that held their home. He looked away from her, casting his eyes at the shadows dancing under the long tables of the guard's hall where the members of the barracks gathered to share meals, entertainments, discussions and instructions from the heads of their order. He had been assigned as her protector, but in the midst of this he was left powerless; if there was anything left, he had to hold to patience.

"It has been three days that her grace has not woken. If she has entered the void, there is nothing to do but wait. The decision to return, or to go will be hers alone." he said softly, then turned away from her facing the hearth again, but did not open the book in his hands and stared at the flames.

"What is 'the void'?" Milla had never heard of it before, it sounded so empty, so lonely... so lifeless. Then saw his shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath.

"It is a place; where the soul goes before finally leaving this world." he explained, and it tore at her heart. She didn't want something as dreadful as that, to be true.

"Falgon, do you really think that..." she couldn't continue, the thought was too terrible to grasp.

"I don't want to. But there is no other way to bring any sense to the circumstances." he told, and she glanced away from him. His answers were too blunt, almost too sure...

"You talk like you know it." she mentioned, finding it strange.

"The Void, The Planes of Twilight, No-man's Land, the City of the Dead, the Black Kingdom, the Shadow Holds; different people have different names for it. But it is always the same place... Some times, you will hear those who have been to the edge of death speak of it. To them, that world is as real as this castle. And only a handful, have returned from there." he said, and her hands went to her face to cover the tears. This can't be... It can't... Why? Why her? Why now? It's so cruel... She could no longer withhold the sobs, and she broke under the crushing weight of the darkness that took their halls, wishing that it could be different. She had prayed to all she knew for days, and nothing seemed to improve, not even the temperaments of their members. Their gods seemed distant, careless... brutal. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder, gentle and comforting; and she knew he stood with her.

"I'm so scared, I don't know what to do. She's my best friend... How can I help her through this?" she sighed through the tears, and looked up at his dark eyes watching her compassionately, hers searching his desperately for reassurance.

"What must I do, Falgon? Tell me..." she begged, and he answered her grief with a soft smile that was calm and soothing.

"Believe. We must. All of us." she looked down again, pressing her palms into her face to stop the tears, and felt his arms around her shoulders as he held her for just a moment.

"Believe..." she absorbed his tranquillity, and somewhere found faith that somehow things will be al right. Some way, they would make it through this.

"Milla?" she looked back as he released her, and saw Berin standing in the arch watching them as Falgon stepped back.

"Go on now, it's late." he urged, and she looked up at him.

"Thank you." she whispered, and then turned to join her husband who spared a final glance at the tall sentinel before accompanying her back through the Hall of Fire.

"What were you doing?" he suddenly asked, and she looked at him.

"Nothing." he stared at her.

"I knew he was close to Claira, but I wasn't aware that you shared the disposition." he said, and she looked away as they ascended the steps of the grand staircase.

"I was just wondering how he was, he's been reclusive for a while." she mentioned softly.

"Why are you worried about him, when she's the one that is ill? When Raeghun is the one that needs our support?" he demanded, and she stopped feeling the sting of acid on her cheeks.

"Why are you angry at me?" he looked back, no kindness in his features.

"He doesn't need your comfort." it burnt, the flames stretching down to her throat.

"If you didn't notice, it was the other way around." she corrected him, and then started walking forward to pass him.

"And you sought him out, for what? His calmness? This magical 'ease' he brings?" his hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her closer.

"He is a part of our family, Berin. How many times have you told me the same thing? And yes, I do find relief in him, as do many others. Not too long ago, you were one of them." she reminded, and he pulled her even closer against him, and her hands pressed against his chest.

"What is wrong with you?" his arms went around her, and she felt him breathe in deeply to calm the muscles; she eased slowly feeling the tremor through him as he breathed into her hair.

"I'm sorry. It's been awful, and there is still no change. Maester Adlyn still doesn't know what's wrong." he whispered, and her arms wound around his waist as he pulled back.

"He is family, and of course you should go to him if you need to. I just..." he trailed off, and she lay her brow against his cheek.

"It will be al right." she whispered, and his arms tightened.

"I've been distracted, and frustrated. I shouldn't take it out on you." he said, making an apology of it.

"We've all been. But we have to hold on... We have to believe..." she said pulling back, and he released her. Then she turned, taking his hand.

"Come. Perhaps tomorrow we will see improvement." she hoped, and he glanced away at the arch to the guard's hall, noticing the great dark mass in the light of the fire. He pushed away the annoyance, and raised his hand to the figure; and in an instant the darkness vanished and light returned to the hall as the sentinel returned to his seat. Then they made their way up the stairways to the lord's wing where a single candle burnt in the lord's chamber along with the light of the hearth, and Raeghun sat at Claira's side, his hands closed around hers as he watched her in her slumber, and cursing all, from the world and its selfish gods to the simple whims of fate. Three days ago, she fell asleep peacefully and did not wake again. There was no response from her no matter how many times he called to her, how many times he tried to bring her back. The nurses applied oils and ointments to her skin, hoping that she may absorb the nutrients it offered, and every so often they would trickle drops of honeyed milk or water into her mouth. But there was nothing else to do, and he watched her wither slowly like a winter rose in the blaze of the sun; fearing that if something was not discovered soon, she may perish. Maester Adlyn stood at his side, whom devotedly continued his care of her, bringing more advices whenever he found them. One of which was that Raeghun draw from her at intervals for two reasons; to relieve any pain or discomfort from full breasts, although they didn't know if she could feel anything at all; and to try and continue stimulating her lest she could no longer continue her beloved care of Rychon once she recovered, and hoping it would survive this, to which he agreed. But today there was nothing.

"My lord, it horrifies me to suggest this... We may need to consider sending a raven to Pale Haven." Maester Adlyn said softly as he lay a hand on Raeghun's shoulder, who did not turn to acknowledge him, but lowered his head as his eyes met the wood boards of the floor.

"I know... But having to consider it, makes it so much more... real. So much more painful..." he sighed bitterly, and then brought his attention back to her as his right hand left hers to a small dish on the table beside them, dipping his middle finger into the aloe serum to apply it gently to her cracked lips. It was habit by now, doing it every hour.

"My lord..." the maester tried for his attention again, and Raeghun breathed slowly, extending the silence in the chamber as he gathered himself. Dark wings... Dark words...

"If there is no change on the second sunrise from now... let the raven fly..."

Claira had made her way down a set of narrow steps into the city hours ago, wandering the pathways between black stone buildings, the light from her hair revealing glossy surfaces as she continued on listening to the voices around her. Now, she found herself in what seemed to resemble a marketplace, shadows that merely imitated any form of natural existence passing here and there on some kind of business as they swept past, their touch cold and clammy as they brushed by her. She looked around searching her surroundings, enclosed by the blackness under a blood sky, the once screaming voices now a series of humming murmurs in the stir of this place. What am I doing here? What is it that I'm waiting for? Who is it that I'm supposed to find? She continued to regard the world around her, no faces only shapes that passed by before a whisper startled her.

"Light…" She turned to face a stand of dark grey, dead wood; cracking and splintering at the edges as a shadow presented some kind of fruit to her, dark and round; a deep shade of purple. She took it slowly, it felt heavy, cold and rough in her hand. Then she looked back at the shadow, motionless as if it were expecting something.

"I have nothing to give to you in return." She said, her words sounded loud, hollow and broken as it echoed off the walls around them. The shadow slowly moved, the black mass extending into what must have been an arm, and a hand with long sharp fingers as it pointed at her hair, to the light emitting from the white strands. No, I can't give you this. I'll be left in darkness… She replaced the fruit on the surface of the table in front of the shadow.

"I'm sorry..." she moved away, further down the dark path through the city, to a different area where the sorrowful moans met her again. She wandered for yet another stretch of time, feeling the heaviness of the dark around her and sat down on something that might have been a high step or a low crate. She wasn't particularly tired, or hungry; but felt incredibly lonely and lost in this desolate world without knowing where to go. There was no one here, but the shadows. Slowly she lowered her head and pressed her hands to her face as tears trailed down her cheeks, missing home. Rychon... Raeghun... Milla... Berin... Bella... The soft light from her hair covered her, and she drowned a sob. Falgon... A scratchy rustling brought her attention up, at something moving down the pathway towards her, slow and awkwardly with unnatural movements, some too slow and the next too fast. It was unnerving, and she decided to move on, up a set of narrow steps deeper into the city hoping it would not follow. She passed more black stone buildings, with narrow spaces between them, just walking forward endlessly, at some point she looked up at the sky that was still its deep crimson. There was no night or day, it was always the same here, and these pathways stretched on eternally. Where must I go? A soft whimper made her stop, and she looked left down a small passage where something lay on the ground. A dog? It moved forward slowly, almost shyly as she took a step to her side, fearing the sudden interest the creatures found in her. She walked forward, faster than before, again hoping it would not follow. Where must I go? A moan paused her, as something wrapped around her ankle, and she looked down where something lay on the ground. She pulled away forcefully, the grip leaving a cold vile feeling to her leg. It rose up as she walked past, hurrying on as she glanced back, a mass of shadows behind her and fear enclosed her. Another sound startled her, something like a bark as a shadow swept by her, icy tentacles coiling around her arms. For a moment she struggled to free herself from the grasp that held her, and then ran forward, passing more buildings and shadows, each reaching out to her and the touch left brittle stings to her skin. Again she looked back, the horde of shadows trailing in queer frightening urgency as her heart pounded mercilessly against her chest and the air burnt in her lungs. Tears trailed down her face in frigid tracks as she bound forward, searching for something, for some way out and the creatures pursued her. Someone, help me please! Anyone...

Another night had come when Raeghun sat at her side, watching as she still slept with her hand in his, the fingers thin and ever cold. She was so small, her eyes set deeper and her cheek and jawbones more prominent that her body was deprived of sufficient nutrients that the many oils, ointments, honey, milk and water could not offer. The only signs of life was her steady breaths, and a slow paced heartbeat that the maester confirmed every few hours. It felt hopeless, he felt helpless and the oppression was endless. Again he applied the aloe serum to her lips, staring as the candlelight danced off her features before bringing his hand back to hers, his thumb gently stroking the slender fingers. If I could take you away from this, I would. If I could take your place, I would. I would trade a million lifetimes in darkness just to see the blue of your eyes again… His head lowered, his face resting against the cool of her hand, and the burn in his cheeks rose to his closed eyes. Please... Please come back to us. Please come back. I can't do this alone... I need you... A soft knock at the door drew his attention vaguely, and he looked up as the heat faded away from him.

"Enter..." the door slowly opened, and lord Willmon stepped through closing the door behind him again as Raeghun's eyes went back to Claira. Despite the devastation that struck them, Raeghun felt glad for them. He and Gerald arrived at Mount Ardor shortly after the raven had been sent to Pale Have, having ridden through several nights; and the wheelhouse pulled through the gate some days after with Rhegard at its head. The Tormonts had taken up residence in the east wing, and were given complete freedom of the hold, and offered their help in any way they could. Ladies Alyssa, Carissa and Dyana took to sharing obligations with Milla, overseeing the kitchens, halls, and watching over Rychon, giving her some relief, while the lords tended to matters of the hold itself and its rounds. He listened to the footsteps approaching, and then a short silence. He could almost feel the silvery-blue eyes stare at him, cutting into his back.

"Raeghun, you haven't eaten anything in days, you hardly sleep, you've barely left this room. You're not taking care of yourself." Willmon mentioned calmly, and Raeghun forced a weak smile.

"Funny you should say that… My father used to tell me all the time, that if I don't take care of myself, how could I take care of anyone else? But now I find myself asking, how could I give that much attention to myself while she lies here? How could I continue with my life like I must, when she is not at my side?" he breathed, the broken bitterness sounding off the walls as his head lowered again, and he felt a tender hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, my son. There is nothing you can do now. While the current situation might not call for your valour in battle, it does require both strength and bravery; and patience." Willmon said, applying gentle pressure to Raeghun's shoulder, attempting to soothe his battered spirit as he rounded the chair.

"Go, get some rest. I will watch over her. If there is any change, I will have you called." he urged, waiting to claim the chair by the bedside.

"I can't. I have to be here... I have to stay with her..." he rejected it, his fingers gently tightening around hers. If these could be their last moments, he wouldn't waste it on sleep. But then felt hands pull him up, surprisingly powerful for the aged lord.

"It will be al right. Eat something, sleep for a while and come back when you're rested." he advised once again, guiding Raeghun carefully to the door. He too, seemed anaemic and insentient as the situation overwhelmed him completely.

"I won't leave until you return." Willmon promised, watching sympathetically as he slowly started down the stairs to find whatever peace he could, and then made his way back to take his place on the chair next to the bed to watch over his daughter. Gently his hands went around hers, and his weight rested on his arms by her side as he examined her lean hand, and his thoughts went back to the baby lying on the altar amidst the standing stones, now a woman but somehow still just as small, just as frail... You are not weak, my winter rose. You must find your way. You can live... The sages could not help now, so he held to the hope that the maester would be successful in his still dire search where he was scouring his chamber for every book, scroll, parchment and piece related to healing having cleared out almost every book in his cases, a page trying his best to keep the order by gathering and stacking the books, retrieving and rolling the scrolls and parchments and keeping an eye on the candles while maester Adlyn rummaged through every possible item, and Rhegard helping him.

"No! No, this won't help at all!" Adlyn called as he threw a book down on the table, and continued to the next one. Five more followed, with the same result and then he sat down on a chair, exhausted and clearly frustrated.

"Maester, we have to keep looking." Rhegard encouraged, still with a book in his hand.

"I've gone through everything, I've thought of everything, I've tried everything." he breathed miserably, and then felt a hand to his arm.

"Not everything, there's still a couple of books left." Rhegard corrected, glancing at the final bookshelf still holding a few tomes, and the maester smiled. His eagerness was almost refreshing.

"Very well. Please give me a moment." he reached for a chalice on the table, bringing it to his mouth and drinking thirstily as the cool water revitalized him, and his aid moved to the shelf.

"You are called 'The Healer', aren't you?" Rhegard enquired as he scanned the books strewn about the chamber as the boy still gathered up what he could.

"I've held that mark for a while, yes." he confirmed, drinking from the chalice again.

"And you have five silver links?" Rhegard continued.

"Seven." Adlyn corrected, and Rhegard glanced back.

"Seven silver links. It must have taken years." the young lord reflected, and the maester stood to join him.

"You learn quickly when you're eager, and passionate of something. On the odd occasion approval is favoured by hard work, more than a noble name." he mentioned, and then paused to look over the books himself.

"I was born in Flea Bottom, my father was a leech collector and what he earned he squandered on ale rather than our home, so my mother would spin when she was well enough to sit up, and send me to sell what she made to buy food for our hovel. If my father found out about the money, he would beat either me, or my mother..." he recalled vague memories.

"My mother was passionate, despite being afflicted all of her life. And I wanted to help her. I wanted to help people. I wanted to make it better..." then he looked back.

"She passed from this world when I was ten and two, and I left for the Citadel shortly after that. I never saw my father again, never wanted to. I worked hard, I pushed myself, I submerged myself in every knowledge there was of healing, bettering myself until there was nothing more that books and scrolls could tell me. When my chain was finished, I was ordained to Mount Ardor, the legendary Burning Mountain under service to lord Varin Taugere, and ever since then these people have been good to me. They became the family I was bereft of, and I will serve them until the Stranger comes for me. I will keep searching until then." he decided, and Rhegard smiled warmly back at him, the maester only now realizing his intent; making him remember why he was what he was, and laughed.

"What an interesting strategy, lord Tormont." he praised, and the youngster shared his laugh.

"And it's effective. Come, our search continues." he goaded, and a sudden loud clutter of books falling drew their attention as the boy looked up sheepishly.

"I'm so sorry, maester. I'll pick them up right away." he assured quickly as his hands went to the tomes, and a sudden glimpse made the maester's eyes stare. A bright red tome with a silver impression fashioned on the surface.

"Wait. What is that?" he asked pointing at the book, and the boy looked down.

"I don't know, maester. It looks like a hand." he told, as Rhegard moved forward.

"I can see it's a hand, boy! The title! I want the name!" Adlyn called out, an instant before remembering that the boy could not read. Rhegard took up the book and stared at it as he turned.

"The title is 'Resplendent Palms' by Archmaester Ebrose." he told, and the maester's mind ran. Resplendent Palms? What is that? Resplendent - Blazing? Flaming? Brilliant? Glittering? Shining? Palms – Crown? Brush? Caress? Cover? Fist? Archmaester Ebrose – The mage? The stargazer? The historian? The raven? Then his mind stopped racing. Archmaester Ebrose, the Healer. Resplendent Palms, Silver Hands.

"That is a healing book!" he moved forward suddenly.

"Give it to me." Rhegard handed it to him quickly and he paged through the tome, feeling revived at a small glimmer of new hope. Somehow, he had forgotten he had this book, if he was ever aware of having it at all...

Raeghun sat on a chair in the second bedchamber, holding Rychon in his arms as he slowly rocked, having given Panora the night to herself. He felt tired, but not enough to sleep. He felt hungry, but a tightness to his body kept him from eating. Everything had stopped for him, and he could only watch as pieces of his life fell away. But then he looked down, at the child sleeping peacefully against his chest, blissfully oblivious to his surroundings.

"I'm sorry for neglecting you. Things have been difficult, and the strain doesn't ease." he told, imagining that he could understand.

"Mommy is sleeping, too. I don't know when she will wake up, but I promise she will hold you again as soon as she does." he added, lifting the little body up and holding him against his shoulder. It was unimaginable, that this tiny baby could be all he would have left of her. All he would have for the rest of his days, as he would never take a wife again. He listened to the small breaths, even and shallow, but soft and comforting and warm, warmer than he'd felt in days as his arms gently tightened. Slowly, soothing sleep took him into a dreamless slumber, only waking to a soft stirring in his arms as Rychon sought his morning feeding.

"It's al right. I'm sure she'll be up soon." Raeghun whispered, looking through the window to the pink of dawn. I should get back... he stood, making his way to the door when it suddenly creaked open and Milla stepped inside, looking up and gasping in surprise.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't realize you were here." she said quickly, but he smiled.

"Don't worry. I was on my way out." he eased, and her arms lifted to take a softly mewling child.

"Panora usually brings him to me when he wakes." she explained.

"I said, it's al right. Don't batter yourself." she brought him carefully to her chest.

"I'll take the children to the garden this morning, for some fresh air." she mentioned, and he nodded.

"That sounds like a fine idea. If you need any help-" her startling green eyes met his.

"I know who to ask. Don't worry about us, we'll be fine. Focus on yourself, and on Claira." she said, and he sighed looking down.

"Thank you, Milla. You've been a great help." he breathed, and she moved past him.

"It's my pleasure, Raeghun. Go on." she urged, and he moved through the doorway closing it behind him. He lingered a moment, debating on whether to visit the bath before he heard footsteps coming down towards him, and looked up to see Alyssa with a selection of garments in her hands.

"Morning, Raeghun. I was just on my way to bring these to you." she said as she presented the clothing to him.

"Thank you. But I should head up." he decided, as she stared at him.

"Her father is still with her, there's no change. You can take some time-" she started as his eyes went up to the shadows of the tower.

"Still. I need to be there." he insisted, and she stared at him.

"Have you slept?" she asked, and he tried to recall.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps, a little." she took his arm and gently started leading him down the stairs.

"Good. Tend to your bath first, then you can return to the chamber. I will have Jeody send a serving girl to you with this morning's serving." she advised as she took him down the steps.

"I am grateful for your help, but your concern for me-" he started and she turned to him raising her hand.

"I had two sons, Raeghun. Now I have three, I care about them all equally by blood or bond. And if I have to run three houses then so be it. This is family." she told, and he stared back in silence. Family...

"Thank you." he whispered, and she smiled.

"You are most welcome. Go on, now." she motioned to a door and he looked back, having missed the point they moved through the lord's hall. He nodded, and sauntered off to tend to himself while she stood a moment, admiring him. Years ago, when her husband returned from the rebellion and informed her that he had promised their daughter to the liege of the Corridor's son, she was resistant to the proposal, having wished for a match closer to their home. It was dubious to think her Willmon, whom loved his daughter as much as he did, would allow a union with a man who's family was oft times portrayed as harsh, unkind and even cruel... but only to their enemies. Upon meeting the boy, she instantly became fond of him. Of his courtesy, his honesty, his gentleness and his beautiful burning eyes. In time, she became more taken with his resolve, his bravery, his strength, and his determination to protect his people, and even more so those he loved. She smiled softly, proud to name him one of her sons. Still so young, yet an honoured lord among all nobles; and she could see why. Beloved and respected by his people, he kept these lands in a delicate balance; but with this he was distracted. He loved his wife more than anything, more than everything his family had achieved over thousands of years, and she secretly worshipped him for that. Whatever it took, they would do all they could to help him. Then she turned and made her way down to the kitchens while Raeghun finished cleansing himself and returned to the lord's chamber to resume his place and Milla left the dark confines of the hold for the outside garden where she allowed Bella to wander around with Williame a bit, and Rychon lay on his blanket on the grass, under a tree taking in the morning sun and cool air. Dyana and Mandeline shared the bench with her between the hydrangea shrubs, sharing their concerns, mostly on the lady's condition. It was a joyless time, and by merely coming up with situations they could grasp, could they alleviate the crushing tension that held them. They named illnesses they knew, and perhaps came up with some new ones to put a name to what was happening; but in the end nothing would drive away the sorrow, and the only thing they could do was to leave the situation for the maester, and believe that the lord's strength was enough to carry them both through this harrowing time. Then Dyana looked up, searching the area around them.

"The children are gone." she suddenly stood.

"Oh, they're on the path somewhere, they couldn't have gone far. The gardens are considerably safe, but I'll help you look for them." Mandeline told as she stood, looking back at Milla who remained on the bench.

"I'll wait here. Rychon seems to enjoy the grass." she declined, watching as his hands fumbled with the green shards in front of him, having somehow pulled the blanket down to his chest.

"Very well. We'll be back in a moment." Dyana assured as they moved away, following the path that led around the garden and Milla watched as they disappeared around the brush. She lowered her head, placing her palm to her face; she felt drained, as if life was slowly pulled from her. Bella's name day would be upon them in just a few days, but given the circumstances it didn't feel right asking for a celebration. So instead, she would have Jeody prepare something small and special for her, along with a small yellow dress that awaited completion on the armrest of her chair in the common room. She wished she knew what to do. Wished she knew how to breathe light back into the walls of the burning mountain, but it remained shadowed under the dread. Believe... she reminded herself.

"Good morning, my lady." she heard a voice next to her, and looked up to see the stern features of the lady's sentinel beside her.

"Morning, ser Falgon. What brings you to the garden?" she greeted, finding it to smile.

"I believe I've been sitting still for too long. I needed the movement." he said, and her attention went back to Rychon.

"It does bring a little bit of ease..." she agreed, and then a serving girl appeared behind him.

"My pardon for interrupting your morning, milady. May we ask your advice? It will only be a moment." she asked, and Milla looked down.

"Al right..." she breathed, then stood and moved forward to take Rychon.

"Go on, I'll watch over him." Falgon offered, and she looked at him.

"You really don't mind?" he smiled.

"Of course not." he assured, and she turned.

"Thank you, I'll be back soon." she promised, and quickly followed the serving girl to the southern hall, and Falgon sat down under the tree next to Rychon, just watching as he played with the grass between his fingers as his thoughts roamed in different directions. The halls were quiet, apart from muffled whispers here and there. The sentinels kept themselves busy with sparring and visiting Garde's Post in the evenings, but he remained. He couldn't protect her where she was now, but still felt the need to stay close. He listened in the night to the conversations of the guards exchanging rounds, passing their thoughts and concerns about. How long could she last if nothing was found? What would happen if the unspoken came to pass? More members started to lose hope as the days passed with no improvement, and it started to seem bleak. But he held on... Until he was told otherwise. She will recover... he watched as Rychon rolled over on his back, the bright frost blue eyes regarding him intently.

"You believe it too, don't you?" Falgon asked with a soft smile as he extended his hand, running his fingers down the small warm body. The baby just stared at him for a moment longer, and then reached towards him, the little eyes expectant as he softly whined. Falgon reached forward, his hands gently wrapping around him and picked him up, lowering his right leg to hold Rychon against him, the blue eyes still fixed on him; and Falgon sighed.

"Don't be angry at your father. He's worried, and this has worn him out. But he is trying very hard to stay strong, for everyone. Especially your mother." he told, then felt a small hand against his face.

"And you can be strong as well." he predicted, taking the tiny fingers in his; for a moment reflecting on his fortune, not being fully capable of understanding the current state they found themselves in. Then he looked up to see Bella and Williame toddling over from the brush next to the bench, smiling and giggling. Bella stopped in front of him, her little eyes bright as she held her hand out to him, and he raised his. Into his hand she dropped a tiny black stone, picked up somewhere under the trees.

"Thank you, little Bluebell. Your gesture is very kind." he said, smiling as he watched Williame sit down on the grass with a yawn. The gardens at Pale Haven were not as extensive as here, and he was likely tired. Falgon looked around, not seeing anyone nearby. Bella doddered back, taking Williame's hand and trying to pull him up to come closer, and Falgon regarded her early intelligence. With some effort, she managed to help him another few steps closer where they sat down on the grass in the shade, amid the tall sentinel's legs, and she stared at Falgon expectantly. Story time, eh? He thought for a moment, and then told them a risible story, of a tiny little pony on a grain farm that gave three thieves the run-about, which they seemed to enjoy quite a bit. Then Dyana and Mandeline reappeared from the garden path, coming over to him.

"Williame, there you are!" Dyana breathed relived, and bent over to pick him up, her eyes meeting those of the sentinel, and she blushed.

"I'm sorry, ser." she said shyly, regarding the handsome man.

"They were no trouble, my lady. And there is no need to refer to me as 'ser'." he returned as Mandeline looked around.

"Where is lady Milla?" she asked.

"Called inside for a moment, she'll be back shortly." he returned, and then heard footsteps approaching from the back and Milla rejoined them.

"Thank you." she rose her hands to take Rychon from him, and he carefully released him to her care, noticing another face beside her. It was Wymon, looking anxious.

"Falgon, our order has been summoned to the Hollow." he informed, and Falgon stood before issuing a formal bow to the ladies, and followed Wymon into the hold as the ladies watched them move away.

"He is very good with children. He is one of your faith guards, isn't he?" Dyana enquired, and Milla smiled.

"He is lady Claira's Sentinel of Flame. And yes, he has rather diverse talents." she told.

"Is he a noble from your country?" Dyana asked, and Milla sighed.

"No. He was a mercenary." she revealed, and both Dyana and Mandeline stared at her.

"A mercenary?" Mandeline struggled to connect the roles.

"It's a long story. One for another time." Milla said, not having the energy to retell the course of events, then looked back at them.

"Come, let's head inside. Cook Jeody will serve soon." she suggested, and they proceeded inside with the children, waiting in the hall while Maester Aldyn now stood at Berin's side, addressing their order.

"You are all aware of the situation, and we are running out of time. If something is not found soon, lady Claira could... She could..." he tried, but it was too hard to say it; then he took a deep breath as Gerald moved forward to his aid.

"Maester Adlyn has searched intensely, and has found something he believes could be the cure that is needed." he looked back at the maester, allowing him his opportunity, and he stepped forward.

"You must all go out, everyone save for those needed here; which lord Berin will assign. You will be looking for a plant, called the Mirriam, some have also known it as Last Hope, or... or..." he struggled for an instant to recall the final name, and then heard a deep voice from further to the back.

"The Hand of Mercy." his eyes came up to Falgon, and smiled. He knows it...

"Yes. Yes, that's the one. It consists of three long, leafless stalks, to each end is a round seed which could be either the colours of copper, silver or gold. Each seed holds a bright red syrup, which is a powerful healing ingredient, that could be used as an ointment, or taken by mouth. It has been described to have the capability to cure any ailment, from a minor cold or headache, to severe wounds, and even Pox and the feared Grey Scale." he told, looking over them.

"I have sent ravens to our vassals before dawn, to aid in our search. While this plant is exceptional, it is extremely rare. You must be thorough in your search." he instructed, and then saw Gavin smiling from the group.

"Don't worry, maester. If it is anywhere in the Corridor, we will find it." he assured, and then Berin spoke again.

"You will be divided into groups of three. Every guard, squire and rider will be included in this task. We set out after meeting in the southern hall." he told, and then dismissed them to head down to the southern hall where they broke their fast, and then proceeded to the outer bailey to find their mounts. Berin stood with Milla in the archway to the southern hall, holding her hands in his.

"We have to leave. I'm not sure how long we'll be gone. But if by some miracle this works, we'll be home soon." he told, as she stared at the floor beneath them and felt her heart break away into small pieces.

"What will happen? What will happen to us? To Raeghun? To little Rychon?" she breathed, drowning a light sob and his arms went around her shoulders, pressing her against him securely.

"I don't know. Raeghun is very strong, but I've never seen him like this…" he breathed softly, secretly trying to steady his own nerves. He'd never seen his friend, fallen this far from his natural composure. He even looked different now. Then he pulled back, looking up at the third level, where by now was a considerable assemblage of wishes and prayers for lady Claira's recovery, in the forms of flowers; orange, pink and blood-red roses, carnations in white and lilies of blue, some simple wild blossoms in all colours picked off the fields; candles, some small, lean and delicate, others as long and thick as a man's arm with intricate carvings, all burning in their solemn silence as they wept. Gifts that created a wide shrine along the rounded wall, brought by countrymen and kin, and more sent with messengers from vassals and farther friends. We have to hurry... We have to find it...

"You have to watch over them. I know you can." he encouraged, and she forced a soft smile.

"I'll try." then he pressed his lips gently to her brow.

"I will return to you." he gave her his promise, and her hands wrapped around his wrists.

"You always do..." then he was gone from her, making his way into the light of the outer bailey to claim his steed, and moments later small parties passed through the gatehouse and over the bridge, scattering over the countryside. Assigned in one of the first groups to leave the grounds Berin, Falgon and Gerald spurred their horses west, away from the burning mountain.

Someone, help me please! Anyone...Please! Claira ran through the city, with no concept of the time that passed while the screeching, barking shadows hunted her. Anyone! She crossed a small bridge onto what could have been docks, vacant quays stretching into the purple water. Glancing back, they were still there, urgent and savage as they barrelled forward unnaturally. Someone... She suddenly pitched forward as something cold and hard wrapped around her ankle, and she fell on the hard stone, her hands slamming onto the surface. There was no pain, just a dull sense edging up her wrists. She looked down, at a shadow reaching for her; kicking and writhing she wrenched herself free, then hauled herself up to run once more, slipping on the glossy level she fell, and icy hands again found both of her legs. Over she struggled, unable to escape the brutal grasp and the shadow dragged itself closer, its coldness rushing up her skin.

"Let me go!" its arms wrapped around her thighs, and more pressure bound down on her feet as the dark forms descended upon her.

"Get away from me!" the darkness pulled closer, and she gasped at the sight now brought to form by the light in her hair. Great black eyes leered at her selfishly from a decayed lead grey face under slick dishevelled black hair, and a mouth too big for the face hung agape with wide chipped teeth.

"Leave me alone!" its wretchedness engulfed her, and more hands caught around her arms, pulling relentlessly. The foul touch spread around her waist, into her thighs, over her breasts and into her shoulders.

"NO!" long bony fingers wove into her hair as a thick tongue snaked from the open mouth, dragging down her face and feasting on her tears before slipping viciously around her throat and the creature released a terrible, hungry wail. Someone... Anyone... Please... Please help me... She cried, but it was a hollow, soundless echo into the darkness. Please... The pressure that held her increased, suffocating as it drank from her and the light slowly started to diminish.Anyone... Please... A flash of bright crimson brought her back, and the pressure vanished. Free, she breathed deeply and then opened her eyes to something over her. A shadow stood by her, different from the others, it was not black but a deep red. It just lingered there, motionless as she brought movement back to herself. Cautiously she sat up, still feeling the quiver to her body, watching as the shape moved slightly away, and it changed; taking on the form of a man. A tall man...

"Did you save me?" she asked, and the highest point moved slightly down and up, almost like a nod.

"Thank you." the shadow lowered, seeming as if to bow, and then slowly started to fade away in ripples; and terror flamed in her again.

"Wait! Please wait!" The ripples dissolved, and the shadow took a solid mass, its colour brightening to a dry scarlet.

"I'm lost. I don't know where to go. Please... Please will you help me?" she pleaded, and the shadow remained motionless.

"Please..." she begged, and it moved, startling her. She watched as it stood for a moment, then moved forward again, towards her. Then back again to where it was, and she rose to her feet. Follow... She decided, and stepped towards it as it moved again, trailing as the form led her away further down the roads of the city, deeper into the dark world surrounded by the endless screams and cries that were all mournful, enraged and aghast. But, somehow it was reassuring, to have company that was not altogether frightening.

It was another evening that Raeghun sat in the third bed chamber that was prepared for him while constant vigil would be held over his wife. The greatest part of their guards, and every sentinel had been gone for days except for a few pages that held order in the hold and the twenty guards the held the gate; it was raining, and loud thunder would tug at his ravaged nerves often, moments after silver light lit the darkness. Once again, Willmon sent him away to rest, but peaceful sleep would not come. When he slept he dreamed, and when his eyes opened the joy would vanish, like a deer from a wayward arrow. Panora insisted that he leave Rychon's care to her tonight, giving him the night for whatever state would come to him, but it was only torment that he suffered. A soft knock at the door drew his attention momentarily, and he allowed entry to a serving girl that stepped through.

"I've brought you supper, milord." she indicated, and he nodded as she moved forward to a low table alongside a chair to leave the tray for him.

"Thank you. You may leave." he said as she turned to face him.

"I am sorry, about your lady wife, milord." she tried to console as she slowly approached him, and he looked up, only now truly seeing the girl. She was new, a skinny little thing with long black curls hanging past her shoulders and warm caramel eyes set in a soft lengthened face, light freckles spread across her nose and cheeks.

"She'll wake up. I must believe that she will…" he said, for just an instant feeling stronger.

"It must be hard." she breathed, standing next to him, the smell of honey and firewood coming off her as he breathed deeply.

"The hardest I've ever faced, was not a battle. It is watching her, and not being able to do anything for her." he revealed, and she took another small tentative step towards him. He stared at her, deciding that her behaviour was odd.

"I am sorry. So much weight lays on you, and there is little relief. Perhaps... Some I may offer you." she suggested in a whisper, and he scoffed at that as he looked away.

"What relief could I get?" It was a cruel jape; there was no relief while the days dragged on each as before with nothing but concern and the intolerable cling to some kind of hope. A loud strike from outside lashed at his senses, and his body strained for an instant; then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You are tense, milord. Taut like bow string. Of course, a man has needs." she whispered, the fingers gliding across the painful muscles and down his back.

"I would like to to help you." she proposed, and he suddenly stood moving to the window.

"How could you help? If you had some kind of magical ability that would bring her back, I would be grateful." he mocked her, again feeling the burning sting to his throat and face.

"No, milord. But I am a woman. I have comforts to offer." her hands were on him again, sliding up his sides; leaving a repellent sensation behind, and he turned to face her.

"Comforts?" he challenged, the ardent blue burning into her eyes.

"Yes, milord." How dare you! It burnt through him, a foul maddening annoyance that was unnatural to him.

"My wife has not woken in over two weeks, and this is why you come to me?" he demanded as he moved forward, driving her back and her hands came up, touching his stomach.

"Milord, It's just a release for your tenseness." she further tried to persuade him, as her other hand came up to his face, the fingers only touching his cheek before his hand wrapped harshly around her wrist.

"Go." he commanded, starting to guide her away from him while she still stared at him.

"None needs to know. You are the lord, after all-" she started, and the sudden rage swallowed him.

"I said get out!" his voice shattered off the walls, and she suddenly fled like the frightened little fox she was as he moved back, resting his weight against the cool of the wall and the heat left him. Panicked she rushed down the steps, suddenly stopping to find the court maiden on her way up hearing the deafening voice. Milla looked up at the bewildered eyes, the girl pale as a sheet.

"What happened?" she asked, and the girl shook her head.

"N... Nothing, milady. Just a... a misunderstanding, is all." she quickly reported, and Milla glanced up. A misunderstanding, over food? Usually, he'd just leave it if he doesn't eat it...

"Over what?" the girl looked away.

"Nothing to trouble yourself about, milady. Just something simple." she again said, Raeghun wouldn't react that way to something plain...Then her eyes came back to the girl, the loosely fitting dress and the low set shoulders, the fabric just thick enough not to be completely offensive; and the sickening revulsion struck her stomach. She knew the situation, and in his state she tried to take advantage. Enraged, Milla's hand came up and she struck the girl, hard enough to stagger her.

"Gather up what you have, I want you out of Mount Ardor by dawn! If you are seen on our grounds by morning, you will be vaulted." she told, and the girl looked up.

"I... I meant no harm-" she stammered.

"Get out! Now!" she stood and moved away, off to find her belongings while Milla rushed up the steps to the third chamber and softly knocked, followed by silence. She knocked again, her nerves pulling in different directions.

"Raeghun?" she carefully edged the door open and glanced inside, finding the chamber vacant.

"Raeghun?" she called to him, cautiously stepping inside.

"I'm fine, Milla. You may leave me." she heard him, from somewhere she couldn't see.

"Where are you?" she moved forward despite his request, relief washing over her when she found him on the floor against the wall under the window where the wind brought cool air and the spray of water from outside, his head resting on his arms supported on his knees.

"You may go Milla. I'm al right." he said again, and she knelt beside him, placing her hand on his arm.

"No. No, you're not. I'm so sorry, I wish there was more I could do." she regarded him, suddenly seeming so small, as opposed to the bright and burning man she knew.

"You're doing a lot. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be like this." he breathed slowly.

"I must be strong. I am the lord of this hold..." he reminded himself, and the pressure on his arm gently increased.

"Berin once told me, that you don't get scared. But, being the lord, doesn't mean you can't be human. I understand, and I will help you." she assured, and his head lowered.

"I am scared, Milla. What will I do? What if she does not wake? How could I continue?" he whimpered, and she broke for him, moving forward and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"It will be al right. We will see this through, somehow. We must believe..." she soothed, and then felt his arms coil around her waist, the shudder through his muscles evident against her.

"We cannot give up our hope. We must believe..." she encouraged again through tears of her own, falling into silence as they sat on the floor together, just holding onto one another, desperate for something. For anything. Believe... Suddenly his grip constricted around her, leaving her breathless as the air left her lungs. Even now, he was immensely strong. This will not break you...

"Thank you, Milla." then he looked up as he released her, the blue eyes clear and hopeful once again.

"You should get some sleep. It's been a long day." he urged as his arms came away from her.

"You should try to sleep as well. I could ask the maester to give you Nightshade-" he looked away from her.

"No. No essence. If I'm called, I should be able to wake instantly." he declined immediately, and she sighed.

"Very well. Good night." she stood to leave, and heard him softly behind her.

"Sleep well..." She left the room, and he remained where he was listening to the rain bearing down on his home, wondering if someone out there in his fields had any favour in their search. Somehow it was soothing, but it left the world dark and heavy, only the occasional light from the heavens bringing to life what his being once was... What it should have been...

Claira continued to follow the red shape through the city, as more and more shadows gathered and slowly trailed behind, watching and waiting while they ambled forward. The world still had not altered from its darkness, and she looked up at the sky, ever red behind the black clouds drifting aimlessly past. How long has it been? This feels so... infinite... Regret pulled at her, and the sting of tears burnt her eyes. I should not have come here... How do I go home...? She looked up at the shadow leading the way, to somewhere... Then glanced back, noticing the barking, wailing horde that followed before slightly quickening her pace, having no desire to face the terrifying dead faces again; but continued to feel uneasy. The mass was growing, while not a single other entity seemed like the one she followed over the stones that bordered the black city along the sickly purple sea. She looked over the water, noticing that the island seemed closer now, the single star in the sky burning brightly just above it. They climbed a set of steps onto another flat expanse, and the shadow stopped, seeming to look back as she passed it. It stood silently, as she paused looking at it. Slowly something extended from the figure, something like an arm pointing to the distance where a solitary tower loomed over the waters from the edge of the shore. A whisper urged her onward, and she continued while the red shape now followed, edging closer as if to indicate its sudden urgency and again she looked back, watching the black shadows flood up the stairs behind them. Again the whisper pushed her on, harder than before and she ran again, with the red figure behind her, and a flood of howling black following, suddenly furiously closing the distance. The figure thrust her forward abruptly, the whisper now a voice that closed over her frantically. Go... Run... Run... It ordered, and she bound forward racing for the tower. A final time she glanced back, watching as the crimson shape turned to face the black monster that hunted her, arms extending from its sides, one arm severely long seeming to hold a weapon... too big and distorted to be a sword as it stood in the face of this being. It moved forward, red beams slicing through the black mist releasing torturous wails into the endless sky. She took in how this being fought against the mass for her, and then to her horror how the red was consumed by the darkness, and it bound forward with yet another enraged howl, ravenous and violent it coursed after her unrelentingly as she sprinted for the tower, helpless and terrified that her only companion in this dread was now gone, and all that was left was her echoing footsteps off the slick stones and the tormenting angry shrieking from the behemoth behind. But forward she ran, a still aching heartbeat against her ribs and the air sour in her chest as the tower slowly converged, the form enlarging in her haste over the expanse. Then she stopped, with no further way to go as the level ended and she faced the deep purple waters, the shadow of the tower looming from a base in the water. No... No! Defeat stripped her of the despair, of hope, of helplessness, of desperation, even of fear and nothing was left but deep frustration. NO! She looked back as the mass descending on her again, but rather than the fear she expected she was enraged. This thing had been following her since... Since when? She was trailed, sought, and hunted for something. Something that was not theirs to have. A dark bony hand reached for her, and the repulsion burnt through her.

"No!" An unexpected burst of light shoved it back with a painful screech as the brightness flashed white over the rotten face, blinding the black eyes, and she stepped forward towards it.

"You will not touch me!" she commanded, the light from her hair brightening into brilliant glowing wisps that shoved the closest creatures further back, leaving them whimpering like whipped dogs, slowly slinking back into the shadows that were left. Others rushed forward, eager tentacles reaching for her.

"You will not touch me!" The light flared again, searing the fingers and the creatures jumped back with agonised howls, and angry hisses. I am not yours! They lingered there in the darkness bordering the light around her, watching and deciding how to proceed. A swirling rushing from the water behind, caught her attention and she turned as a massive shadow rose from the sea; great, long and slender with eyes like the lights of candles in windows amidst the black shape, that gradually took form as the mouth opened revealing long jagged teeth. It let out a cry, deep and loud and gurgling, more terrifying than anything she'd heard in her life as she stared at it, oblivious to the fading light. This can't be... It can't... The creature lowered as she looked back, just as another shadow leapt for her, appendages stretched out for her throat. In reflex her hands rose in defence as she stepped back, gasping the instant the long piercing teeth closed around the shadow and the monster behind her brought it away, rising into the sky and devouring the body as it screamed. She sank to the ground, overwhelmed by the sight, the light dimming to little more than a soft glow and her hands pressed over her face. This can't be... Her eyes came down, watching as the shadows moved forward to feast on what was left of her. Raeghun... an enormous mass crashed down on the creatures, shattering the stone beneath them and she watched as they fell away into the water, the incessant wailing fading away and dying into silence. She sat there, breathing and shivering, without a thought of what may come next, endless in this stretch. Then looked up, at the bright eyes still watching her, motionless as if it were waiting... expecting. She stood, forcing more acid sour breaths into her chest.

"Will you take me to the island?" it moved forward, bringing its head down as a deep rumbling came from its throat, much like the sound of a cat and she reached out towards it. Nearing the light, she saw the white of bone on its face, now on the stone next to her. It seemed to have a mane, and long curled horns. It came forward still, pressing its shoulder against the stone of the level she stood on, and a massive clawed paw hanging from the edge, then it rested on the surface, again waiting. She moved forward, stepping onto the skin that was warm and rough, managing to haul herself onto the creature's back. Once securely mounted, it rose away from the land, her hands mangled into the thick hairs of a bristly mane and it turned, venturing into the water, making its way through the waves towards the light that hung over the island shadow.

A camp fire burnt brightly in the night, three fish caught from a nearby stream suspended over the heat. Berin shoved the tip of a branch into the fire to scatter and open the embers, allowing more warmth to scorch the meat. Gerald sat to his right next to the fire, watching the flames, and Falgon against a tree opposite from him. They'd been searching for days with no fortune, and were nearing the Flint Cliffs. They passed Earndale some time ago, meeting several other search parties on their journey, one having been Garrett Foch and his company of three heading north-east, also with little luck but promised to continue their task until otherwise notified. The days dragged on as they scoured the country from dawn until dusk, and hope seemed to creep away from them. It was easy to look for, having an exactly unique appearance, what made it hard was that they couldn't find it... anywhere. This really is our last hope, isn't it?

"We'll find it." he looked up at Gerald who was staring at him, and forced a smile.

"He have to. But I'm afraid that our time is fading." he breathed, and Gerald's eyes went back to the fire.

"Claira will hold on until we do. We cannot give up." he encouraged, and Berin scoffed.

"How do you know?" then the bright eyes came back to him.

"Because she's my sister. And she has survived something much like this, once before." he told, the eyes glinting with determination; not only for himself but for her.

"Even if it is here somewhere, I've never seen it before. I haven't even heard of it before the maester named it." then he looked at Falgon, silent in the shadows. The Mirriam... Last Hope...

"How do you know it?" he called over, and the dark eyes rose slowly.

"My people, knew it as The Hand of Mercy. And I've only heard of it, I've never seen it. I can't imagine I will." he said, sounding more resigned than was normal for him. Then he moved slightly, sitting forward.

"It was said, that it is a grace-gift to those in desperate search for those they love." he further added, and Berin and Gerald passed a glance at one another.

"Why would that be a difficulty for you?" Gerald asked as his eyes came back to the sentinel, apart from them.

"Because grace-gifts only come from the gods. And while I care about her dearly, and will search to the ends of the world, I will not be able to find it." he explained, the light of the fire slightly brightening the darkness in his eyes.

"You don't believe in anything?" Gerald asked softly remembering the time they spent in Pale Haven for his wedding, and he sighed.

"I've lost my faith long ago. But for the time being, I trust in the resolve of people. In that which binds a family." he decided, watching as Berin took the fish from the fire, and handing one to Gerald as he stood and came over with another.

"Eat something." he urged, holding the meat out to his friend.

"I might have something later." he declined, glancing away and Berin sighed.

"Al right, I won't pester you tonight." he moved away, retaking his seat on the other side of the fire, trying to enjoy what they could while the night crawled by. Later, having elected to take watch Falgon still sat where he did against the tree, allowing his companions the sleep they needed as he stared at the sky, the deep black of midnight and starlight; the dazzling lights spanning the sky in sparkles of green, blue, red and brilliant white. This cannot be the end... If you leave, my existence will end... Every day I spent in this world, every year I wandered aimlessly in search of some meaning, will vanish... All I was made to bear, will mean nothing... Who then will I follow? Who then will I defend? Then his eyes cast down, at the forms next to the smouldering ashes of a once living fire. You must find it... You must... Gradually, the darkness left the lands and the purple of dawn rose on the horizon, and Gerald was the first to wake while Berin soon followed. Gathering what they could, and discarding the camp site, they set off in further search of the miracle they needed even before the sun rose from the earth, further east. They rode for hours, inspecting the forms of every shrub they passed, fanning out over large areas and meeting up again when the investigation of the area was complete. The sun sat high in a clear sky, close to its highest point when Berin paused. It felt so hopeless, they'd gone so far and still nothing to have of it. Then he looked back at Gerald not far behind him.

"Perhaps we should head north, see if luck favours us that way." he suggested, watching as he looked around.

"We haven't searched the entire cliff side yet." he said, and Berin sighed.

"There's not a whole lot left. We could do better further up." he further goaded, and then looked at Falgon, trailing behind. His horse was grazing on the grass while he stared out over the water of the sea, motionless as if in a dream.

"Falgon! We're heading up!" he called, but there was no response, and he called to him again. Deciding that the wind might be disrupting his voice, he turned his horse around and headed back.

"Falgon!" he tried again, and his friend suddenly raised his hand, followed by a short silence.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and the dark eyes came to him.

"Listen." the reply was curt, but soft, and another silence followed as he took in the ambience. There was not much, save for the whistle of the wind and the rush of the waves far below the cliffs.

"I don't hear anything." he replied.

"Listen!" there was more urgency now, and he tried again. The whistle of the wind, the rush of the waves, the birds in the trees, and the crickets in the grass. Then he glanced back at Gerald who joined them.

"What is going on?" he asked, looking at them in utter puzzlement.

"Listen, don't you hear that?" Falgon asked, seeming equally stunned; and there was another silence, tense and deliberate, and Berin closed his eyes focusing on the sounds. The whistle of the wind, the rush of the waves, the birds in the trees, and the crickets in the grass... and something else. High, pitched ringing. Shards of glass brushing against each other in the wind... Delicate wind chimes in the breeze.

"I hear it." Gerald confirmed, and they looked at each other.

"There's nothing here that would make that sound." Berin said looking around. There was nothing, no buildings, no ruins, not even a trail that would indicate life.

"Help me look for it." Gerald said, and they dismounted leaving the horses to graze while they searched the area, again going over every plant, shrub and flower in sight for near to an hour as the ringing sounded in their presence; sometimes near, sometimes far. Berin searched a berry shrub, pushing away leaves and branches and twigs to find a selection of bright red and purple flowers, but nothing else. Fuck! What is that? Where is it? It was frustrating, to the point he felt like tearing the bush from the ground roots and all. Where is it?! and then a voice startled him, urgent and fevered of excitement.

"I see it! I see it! The Mirriam, I found it!" it was Gerald, lying on his stomach and hanging almost recklessly over the edge of the cliff as Berin hurried over.

"Where is it?" he asked as Gerald stood.

"Several feet below, on the cliff wall. Give me a rope." he quickly told, and then saw Falgon beside him already with a rope in his hand. In an instant, Berin took one end and started wrapping it around his waist before tying it securely.

"Tie the other end to something." he instructed, already heading for the edge as Gerald followed.

"Berin-" he turned back,

"There's no time to debate this." he told, seeing the light eyes stare at him for a moment.

"Be careful." Gerald said, and he softened. The situation left him irritable, fearing that they might not make it, then he put a hand to his shoulder.

"I will." he glanced back, noting that his friend tied the other end of the rope to the pommel of Galeo's saddle; then started making his way over the edge down the cliff, following the gentle chiming. Carefully he climbed the precarious wall of earth, glancing down every so often to plan his path as Gerald watched from above; then he stopped, hanging from his hold on the wall and listening as the chiming sounded somewhere just below him. Just a bit more... His hand moved down, taking hold of another protruding surface as he attempted to go further down, then as he searched for footing the earth broke away and he fell; he gasped, free in the air for a moment as fear cut through him, and the air was forced from his chest in a strained grunt with a painful stab, and he found that the blow to his senses was the sudden force of the rope gouging into his ribs. Taking several unsteady breaths he heard a voice from above calling to him, then looked up.

"I'm al right." Gathering himself from his momentary daze he looked around, searching for the sound, and finally saw it. Three beautiful bright golden globes hanging from from the end of each stalk chiming as they brushed against one another in the breeze, perched precariously on a tiny ledge above him to the right, just out of reach. Slowly he started to move, rocking from side to side to bring himself closer, each time reaching for the plant, nearer and nearer with each sway until his fingertips just touched the small leaves of the base. Once more... Finding sure footing on the cliff wall he pushed himself forward, reaching for the plant; and finally his hand wrapped around the stalks, pulling it free easily as the small ledge crumbled and fell away to the water far below, and he had to smother a laugh as he looked up.

"I have it!" he quickly shoved the roots and stems halfway through his belt on his side.

"Pull me up!" he started to move up slowly as he climbed, aided by the straining rope against gravity that drew him, inch by inch back the way he came while Falgon led Galeo slowly further inland to bring his friend up; and Gerald still kept watch over the edge, now noticing that the rope was grazed almost through where it brushed over the cliff.

"You al right down there?" he called down.

"I'm good." the voice came back.

"The rope is grazed, be careful." Gerald advised, glancing back at the rope as it moved slowly.

"I'm almost there..." he was assured, then a rasp followed by a startled grunt as the rope abruptly jerked; and the heart-stopping snap of the rope as it snaked away and vanished over the edge while Falgon called out for his friend. Gerald stood stunned as the world stopped, only catching the figure moving past him like a gust of mist; but then reality returned to him as Falgon knelt and stretched out his hand over the edge, and he moved forward glimpsing Berin hanging from the edge. They both reached down, taking hold of his wrists and hauled him up over the cliff and a few feet in to safety, releasing him as he fell down, taking several deep breaths where he lay on his back.

"Fuck, that was close..." he sighed, and then smiled sitting up and Gerald watched him anxiously.

"Do you have it? Where is it?" he asked eagerly, and Berin reached back. Feeling around his belt, a frigid wave struck him, like a thousand wasp stings. No... It was gone. Where he shoved the roots and stems through the belt, was empty. It was gone... No! He stood, staggering to the edge where he fell down on his knees looking over, cursing the rush below.

"No... No!" It must have fallen when he slipped again.

"NO! Fuck!" hands rested on his shoulders.

"We had it! We had it!" Weeks of despair, and days of searching went to waste; and the crushing sorrow dug into him like burning claws as he cursed into the wind again.

"Berin." he turned back, staring through emotions that battled each other like hounds in the pits. Falgon stood behind him and Gerald, two stalks in his hand held delicately between his fingers.

"Is this it?" he asked, and Berin stood glaring at the bright globes.

"Yes... Yes." he came closer holding out his hands and Falgon gave it to him gently, staring at the plant, and Gerald joined him as he watched the tall sentinel, his eyes fixed on the stalks.

"You... You can't see it, can you?" he asked, and he looked at him.

"It just looks like Dandelions to me. Really big Dandelions." he mentioned, and they glanced at each other in utter puzzlement. How could he not see?

"But, you heard it first." Berin reminded.

"I thought I heard something..." he started, pausing.

"You heard it." he held up the stalks, and the dark eyes watched it again, for a moment confused before the bafflement faded and the eyes lightened.

"I... I see it..." he watched in wonder as the round yellow seeds of the great dandelions changed and transformed into bright golden orbs, shining in the light of the sun.

"I can see it." he smiled, then looked up at them.

"Hurry, we have to get back." he urged, and they returned to their horses, wrapping the Mirriam in a woollen cloth and binding the seeds with leather twine before placing it carefully into the saddle bag of Gerald's horse, and they raced back to Mount Ardor. In their rush, they stopped late into the night exhausted without being able to continue, retaking their flight before daybreak, elated that in each stride they came closer to home... And finally the sunstone walls appeared over the horizon as they rushed on over the fields, following the road that led them to the burning mountain as Berin took a shepherd's horn from the saddlebag behind him like others distributed to each of the search parties, and brought it to his mouth, blowing frantically. Ring the bells! Ring the bells! RING THE BELLS YOU USELESS F- And then it sounded over the lands around them, the enchanting rhythmic tolling of Mount Ardor's sentry tower bells, like a magical lullaby that echoed off the copper dusk lit fields until after they passed under the portcullis where a host awaited them, their maester rushing down the steps.

"Did you find it?" he asked quickly in his descent, and the men dismounted leaving their steeds to the stable boys. Gerald quickly took the wool covering they used as protection for the seeds from the saddle bag and brought it over to him.

"Yes, maester. We found it." They untied the leather threads and unrolled the fleece eagerly, to be struck with a horrible, almost sickening crimson stain soaking the fleece as they stared, yet another blow to them. The cruel jokes of fate... the sick humour of the gods... the broken shards of the seeds drenched in the blood-like liquid.

"NO! Fuck, no!" it was Gerald's voice that echoed within the walls of the bailey, his hands releasing the wool to the maester as he turned, taken aback by the devastating fortune.

"No!" It must have broken in their haste to reach home, becoming brittle and fragile with no water or sunlight to feed the sprout. He wanted to scream, to throw his fists at the walls, had he little less self-control he would have taken the dirk at his side and plunged it into his own gut.

"My lords..." Their attention came back to the maester, holding a single intact seed in his hand, still the shining gold but the surface seemed like an apprentice smith had chiselled and hammered away at it. Berin stepped forward.

"Will it be enough?" he asked anxiously, and the maester smiled gratefully as his hand closed protectively around the sphere.

"It will be enough." he assured, and then turned to make his way up to the lord's wing, where as always Raeghun sat at the bedside next to Claira. Having sent Willmon to rest like he'd done so many times, he was now the only one at her side. In the ruin his life had become, he held a knife in his hand, inspecting the length and sharpness of the edge, taken off the tray that the serving girl brought. It could cut deep enough to reach his heart, if the force was sufficient. He spared a quick glance at a letter shoved under the sconce that held a candle on the bedside table, reflecting on the orders he'd written down. If she left this night like was predicted, he would follow; and Berin and Milla would have reign over Mount Ardor and its domain in his stead. They would raise Rychon well, they would tell him everything he would need to be whom he was meant to while Falgon remained as his protector; and when he came of age he would assume his rightful place as the lord of the burning mountain. He looked up at the figure on the bed, tiny and emaciated, little more than a barely breathing corpse... yet, still beautiful. Endless in her wonder with porcelain skin, and hair of sparkling black marble. He could smile gently as his hand closed over hers. I will find you... he looked down at the blade held in his other hand. I will find you... His hand moved up as he positioned the tip of the knife to his chest, and his hand softly tightened. I will... Without warning the door burst open and he stood abruptly, inconsiderate of the glinting steel still in his hand as he stared at the faces in the doorway, eyes wide and shocked in the moment before they stormed at him, seizing him frantically and knocking the knife from his hand.

"What are you doing? Let go of me!" he demanded, and the deep green eyes bore into his own.

"This is not over, do you hear me? It's not!" Berin told him, both him and Gerald struggling to hold his battling mass against the wall.

"Let go of me!" he ordered again, and in a daze watched as maester Adlyn followed with a bright seed in his hand making his way to the bed while Willmon approached him, the silvery-blue eyes staring at him intently.

"After everything, this is how you want to end it? Your men, your people, your family spent days in the countryside searching for a cure while you lost your hope. But now that we have it, I am sure you may find it again." he assured, the calmness of his voice bringing relief as they watched the maester carefully break open the golden seed, and bring it to Claira's mouth, allowing the deep red elixir to pass into her mouth, coating the inside and gently spreading into her throat and into her body as they looked on, waiting for a change... Any change... Please... Please don't be too late...

She made her way up a series of steps circling the island as she listened to the water around her, hearing a slowly disappearing rush of waves onto fine stone and sand. The beast had carried her away from the screaming shadows of the city, here across the waves; and finally left her on a dark stony shore before leaving her again to find her own way. There was grass here, shadowed shards lining the path she took hoping to find the light as she moved forward and up. Again, she looked at the sky where there was still no change. She could have been in this place for a couple of hours, to a couple of months; there was no way to tell. The light became brighter as she moved forward, in time reaching the top of the island where she stood on another flat level, faced by two doors; and the star... a brightly burning light just above the arches where someone stood, waiting for her. A tall man, cloaked and hooded entirely in black with a thick wood staff in his left hand. He looked up, noticing her as she approached him, the only barely visible grey mouth under the shadows drawn in a satisfied smile.

"You came. They are drawn to you." he mentioned softly, his deep voice sounding off the stones around them, and she remembered the dark creatures that hunted her throughout the black city.

"Why?" she asked, and he glanced away looking at the shadow of the structures under the red sky.

"Some are drawn to strength, some are drawn to life. The latter are reluctant to allow the departure of those not as they are." he told, and she looked down at the stone beneath them.

"Not as they are?" then he looked back.

"You do know. They have not been allowed to leave this place, and continue to search; taking whatever they may find from others for themselves, although it will never alter them. And I dare say, you were quite unmistakable to them." he raised his hand, indicating the white in her hair, the gentle light surrounding her.

"I am not meant to be here. Can I leave? Is there any way?" she asked, bringing her attention back to the man in front of her.

"Of course. Three doors before you, of two paths you may choose as one door is shut. One will lead you to peace, joy and serenity, and the other to severe suffering, brutal wars and endless sorrow. But, whichever you decide, you will leave someone behind." he told as he motioned to the arch to his left, that started to blur and brighten as a landscape appeared and she stared. Beautiful, endless fields of summer green, dotted with bright flowers under a deep blue sky, white clouds drifting past here and there. She took a step closer to see, where three children laughed and played under the shade of a great tree that held round garnet-red apples from the branches. She saw two boys and a girl, all with onyx black hair, perhaps ages nine, eight and six years old. She watched as the boys chased each other around the wide trunk while the little girl watched from where she sat against the wood on the grass, smiling brightly. Claira took a sudden deep breath, her heart aching and the girl looked up at her bringing the attention of the boys to her as well. They had familiar, burning blue eyes, except for the girl that displayed enchanting violet eyes. They were all still smiling, while her heart broke and tears streamed down her face realising, and it tore her apart as her right hand clasped over her mouth to stop the cries from escaping her tortured state. Two boys, Vaeghard and Balendin and a girl... A girl she would have named Clariscia. The little girl waved at her, bringing her pacing heart to a sudden murderous stop as she slowly waved wistfully back.

"Do... Do they know me?" she asked, and the man nodded.

"They know you." he assured, and her heart broke even more. She wanted to step through, to hold them, and kiss them, and tell them how much she loved them, but...

"Are they..." she asked, finding it too hard as she trembled, trying to drive away the tears that ripped away at her.

"They know no hardships. And they are not alone." he assured once again, and she turned to face the other door as he remained waiting patiently. The arch was dormant, the black shadowy landscape visible far behind it.

"You said two paths, one door is shut." she enquired again.

"Yes." his answer was curt, and she looked at the other door once again, at the beautiful fields, and the beautiful children who resumed their activity. Three doors, two paths, but one stands shut... Her eyes came back to the empty arch. Two paths, but only one door... And then back at the fields Two paths, one a door... One not a door... She looked up at the light above them, and again at the children as the image slowly started to fade away, and her final vision placed her heart at rest. A man she knew, beloved the patriarch of their family, rich in the colours of their house from where he watched them play. I love you... All of you... She wiped away the tears, one by one piecing together a broken heart and then looked at the man who nodded slowly. She found comfort that they were safe, that they were happy, that they were at peace and always will be; and that she had this moment that would be in her heart forever. Then looked up at the light, reaching for it as she felt herself being lifted up into the air, away from the darkness, breathless and tranquil as the brightness enveloped her completely. Taken, heedless into beautiful, peaceful, blissful... endless, painless light...