Gared
"Good work, Gared. Shame you didn't manage to catch one. Go see Maester Aemon, I think you should make him check that wound of yours."
"Thank you, Lord Commander."
Gared left the solar and sighed. Sneaky bastards, these wights are surely good at hiding.
Gared shivered, remembering his close encounter with the Other. He barely escaped, despite the odds. He thought of deserting the Watch that time. Who would've ever believed that a legendary creature attempted to kill him? He would've been mocked and regarded as a madman.
But then, the Fall happened, and that changed his views. Gared understood that these were extraordinary times, perhaps it was a warning from the Gods themselves, of the great danger that awaits mankind.
Gared steadied himself and returned to Castle Black. He explained what he'd seen to the First Ranger, Benjen Stark. Surprisingly, he believed Gared, saying that the haunted forest had been too eerie as of late. Then they rode south towards Winterfell, to warn Lord Stark.
After returning, he was promoted to Second Ranger. He never expected to be honoured like this, as he was just a commoner, but the Lord Commander would not hear otherwise, 'You've been at the Wall for more time than me, you deserve it.' He said.
Mormont lamented giving the command to Waymar, who was too inexperienced for his tastes. But he was nobility, there was not much he could do about that.
Now the Old Bear organised multiple rangings, hoping to collect proof of the return of the Others. 'Till now, nothing has emerged, unfortunately.
What troubled Gared was the lack of Wildlings as of late. He thought the White Walkers would force them south, but no patrol spotted one, and even the daily raids stopped. It was strange, considering the buggers had united under a King...
Gared descended the stairs towards the battlements. After the fall, the Watch received an influx of volunteers: they did not say the vows, but helped them with supplies and workforce. Lord Stark also promised new weapons and food, the first batch to arrive in four days. The Night's Watch was being pieced back together, slowly but surely.
He passed by Ser Alliser and the recruits drilling in the courtyard. "FOOTWORK! Boy, do you think this is a dancing lesson?" The gruff man shouted, the poor boy nearly pissed himself. Gared sighed, Alliser was too rough with the recruits. Not that it's detrimental, but he doesn't convey the solution to their fallacies.
Gared approached the young man, "Your footwork is too tight. Position your right foot forward."
He nodded, doing as Gared asked.
"See? Now you're balanced. It's harder to knock you down like this." Gared said, "What's your name, boy?"
"Edd, Ser." He answered.
"Oh, the dolorous..." Gared pondered, "It's good to meet you. I am no Ser, by the way. Continue like this, you will learn in no time."
Edd nodded and returned sparring with his partner. Only then Gared noticed the envious stare of Thorne, the prick. He never liked him, always so full of himself.
The Targaryen loyalist was surely jealous of his promotion, thinking he was the one who deserved it. Being beaten by a lowborn was a crushing defeat for him, despite Gared being a more experienced watchman than him.
He entered the armoury to leave his sword, a new one received from the supplies of Lord Stark. Most old weapons were now inside a barrel, waiting to be salvaged or scrapped.
Donal Noye was there, examining the most intact. "Need some help?" Gared asked two the one-armed man.
"Yes... thank you, Gared." Noye answered.
The two silently sorted all the weapons. Most ended up being scrapped, but at least some would be reforged into something more useful.
"How's the forge going? More apprentices than usual, I presume?" Gared said, breaking the minutes-long silence.
"Aye, finally got someone to pass my knowledge to," he answered, "Finally got some decent tools too."
"Good. The man who forged King Robert's warhammer must be quite skilled." Gared mused.
But the more he thought about the man, the more doubts bubbled in Gared's mind. "Why did you leave Storm's End to join the watch?" He asked, "Lord Renly would've found great use in you, even without an arm."
Donal sighed, "Duty, I believe." He said, "Losing my arm changed my... perspective of the world. I felt that an old man like me would've been of use here."
Gared nodded, "And how were the Baratheon brothers?" He asked, suddenly curious. "Did you meet Lord Renly and Stannis?"
"Aye, I've met them many times." Noye answered, "Robert... he is true steel. The warrior reborn, some mused. But he was never made for counting coppers, I assure you. Stannis is pure Iron. Hard, strong... and brittle. He will break before bending."
"Renly is... copper. Pretty to look at, but not worth that much at the end of the day. From his mannerisms to character, he is the pretty lordling who pokes other knights in a joust. He doesn't know real battle, unlike Robert and Stannis, but he has a sharp tongue."
"But I say one thing. All three have their strengths and weaknesses, but if they stay united... no one in the Seven Kingdoms could stop them."
"Alas, the three are the polar opposite... they always argued since infancy. Gods willing, they will set apart their grudges, and work for the betterment of the Seven Kingdoms."
Gared nodded. Donal Noye was a fascinating man, but a forgotten one.
Before Gared could say anything else, Pypar came through the door. "Gared! Benjen is back!"
Gared stood up, "Any good news?"
"I don't know yet... but come, quickly!"
Pypar left the armoury, leaving Gared and Noye behind. They shared a look, and followed the recruit.
There was much commotion in the courtyard, as the ranging group entered from the gate. The First Ranger was up front, with a small carriage behind him. Gared could not see what was inside, as it was covered with copious layers of furs. His direwolf, Warden, stalked at the fringes of the party. The men had a weary looks on their faces, some were even injured. On the other carriages, Gared could glimpse several burned remains.
The Lord Commander finally arrived, and Gared joined him with Benjen. "Well? From what I can see, the ranging was a success, was it?" The Old Bear asked.
Stark smiled, "Yes, it was... but I've found something even better."
That drew confused looks from Gared and Jeor. "And... what could be better than a wight?" Gared uneasily asked.
Benjen looked around the courtyard, "Is everyone here?"
"Aye... mostly."
"Alright, I will take care of it." The First Ranger said.
Why not be plainer? Gared thought. Benjen was acting strangely.
Warden suddenly howled, silencing all in the courtyard. Benjen cleared his throat and spoke, "Men of the watch!"
"I have returned from my mission. We were successful."
He walked towards the cart, "Here, in this wagon, there's our ancestral enemy..."
"This is what we will fight!"
Benjen removed the furs.
The temperature dropped.
He was pale and gaunt, with cold blue eyes. His hair was white as the snow, and he wore armour that reflected perfectly what was around him, like a pond.
Just as Gared remembered.
His breath became ragged, every shout around him died. He could only hear the beat of his heart, and look at those pure, milky eyes... that stared back at him.
His legs crumbled like sand before the sea, and darkness enveloped him.
Asha
"Here we are. Are the men ready?"
"Aye, Asha. I'll go with the trackers ahead, you take care of the rearguard."
She nodded, and observed Dagmer depart with his party. Asha waited some minutes before entering the forest herself.
She was somewhat troubled. How did the forest expand so quickly in such a short time?
She could barely see the grey sky, all the foliage blocked the rest. The Ironborn collected most of their timber here. The forest shrunk considerably these last years... how...?
They walked for an entire hour, but no sign of Dagmer's party was seen. Maybe they've run into an ambush? She thought. Either way, she had to do something. "Men! Speed up the pace, battle awaits us!"
"AYE!" They answered.
They continued for half an hour, still not finding anything of note. "Lady Captain, perhaps we should change direction? Perhaps Dagmer took another path." One of her soldiers, Tylarr, asked.
Asha thought for a good moment, "No... I asked Dagmer not to conceal their footprints if they change path" She sighed, "We march on. Warn me if you find any trace of the scouts."
Tylarr nodded, "Aye, Lady Captain."
Their long walk continued, and the forest became thicker and thicker. "The woods weren't this big before," Tylarr said, "I've lived long enough on this damn island to know it."
Asha nodded, "I agree. This is not the- "
She misstepped on a root, and fell to the ground. Asha groaned, "Shit, these fucking-"
Asha stopped mid-sentence as she smelled a familiar scent: blood. She rose and followed it, her company in tow.
"By the Drowned God, this odour is unbearable..." Tylarr mumbled.
After some steps, Asha finally finds a streak of blood. It was near some bushes, towards the thickest part of the woods. She addresses her company, "We follow the trail, watch out for any holes or roots. I won't help anyone with a broken ankle, we can't afford dead weights."
There was some mumbling between the men, but they understood the message. If they abandoned their Lady Captain, her father would have their heads.
The path was narrow, only a single row of men could fit in it. Asha didn't like the possibility of an ambush, even if unlikely.
As they advanced, the stench worsened, and Asha was about to faint. Never before had she smelled such scent, even during the siege of Pyke. Perhaps these bandits were a group of cultists. It's the only explanation for this... perhaps Nagga cultists, those were dangerous ones...
The trail of blood stopped before a thick bush formation that blocked the path. "Triston, take care of this." She ordered.
The man unsheathed his curved sword and cut his way in. Asha followed behind alongside the others.
Then, they reached the end. A great tree was before them, in the middle of a clearing, covered in blood. It was probably the biggest one she had ever seen. There were strange cocoons hanging from the branches, massive too. The bark was black, and the leaves grey as steel.
Asha's eyes widened as she saw Dagmer at the base of the tree, constrained. She rushed by him and removed the cloth wrapped in his mouth. "Dagmer!" She shouted, "What in the Drowned God's name happened?"
He frantically grabbed her shoulders, "Asha! We need to escape, before the things come back!"
Asha's brows furrowed, "What do you mean by... things?"
There was a sudden noise from another pair of bushes before them. Dagmer shouted again, "Quick! They're here, we need to escape!"
Asha nodded and unbounded the Master at Arms of Pyke. She helped him up, and gave him her spare axe.
An atrocious wail took Asha's attention. She snapped towards the bloody bushes.
"WHAT IN THE DROWNED GOD'S NAME IS THAT?"
Creatures. Horrible, spindly things that were everything but human.
Their skin is the same bark of the great tree. Their eyes were of a shiny orange, and had no nose or mouth.
Their limbs were long, and stood taller than Asha herself. The fingers... were lengthy and sharp, made for slashing.
They were many, at least twenty. Asha had no chance with her tired soldiers, not against such things.
Asha snapped and started shouting orders, "RETREAT! FALL BA-"
The earth shook. Asha lost her balance and stumbled.
She steadied herself, but froze in place.
The tree was alive.
Two eyes, one big mouth. The tree stared them down, glueing them in place.
Then, a sound. A terrifying sound.
It was as if the earth itself was screaming in pain.
Asha couldn't do anything. Her bones would not move. This was beyond everything she could've expected.
A feeling of desolation. The same she experienced during the siege of Pyke.
She felt powerless for the second time in her life.
"ASHA, ASHA!" A slap.
"SNAP OUT OF IT! WE NEED TO ESCAPE!"
Someone was dragging her. She could feel the muddy dirt clinging to her clothes.
Asha opened her eyes. They were entering the bush, the same they had come from before. The men were running frantically, their morale completely broken.
Suddenly, tree roots emerged from the ground and began trapping some of the fleeing men. Triston was one of them, the young lad had no chance to evade the damn things.
Asha watched hopelessly as the trapped were crushed, their entrails flying everywhere.
That snapped Asha out of her state. She was covered toe to head with blood and bits of brain, a horrendous sight. Dagmer and Tylarr were still with her, coping no better than the Kraken's Daughter.
She rose, and Dagmer cursed, "Shit! The bastards are fast!"
"Fuck it!" Tylarr shouted, "Lady Captain, I will fend them off. Maybe I can stall them for some time."
Asha looked into Tylarr's eyes, "Are you sure?"
He smiled and nodded, "Run. I will take care of it."
Dagmer grabbed her shoulder, "Come, we need to go!"
She sighed, "Tylarr, your sacrifice shall be remembered."
His smile broadened into a grin, and he turned to face their pursuers. "What is dead may never die!"
Asha and Dagmer started running again, watching the warrior fight against the monsters. She saw him getting gutted in the distance, the creatures overpowering him.
The two Ironborn wandered aimlessly in the forest, hoping to find its end. Their pursuers were thankfully lost, thanks to Tylarr's sacrifice.
After what seemed like hours, they emerged from the dark forest, injured but well.
Asha's legs gave out, and she gasped for air: she was exhausted.
Dagmer lay down near her, looking at the sky.
"We must warn everyone... of the damn tree in there." She said.
Dagmer slowly nodded, "Let's just hope they don't think us mad."
They tested for a good hour. Asha thought of many things... from the Fall, to the strange feeling she had days ago. "Are we in legendary times?" She asked the Master at Arms.
Surprisingly, he chuckled.
"Yes, Asha. We are."