Oddly, the further I traveled, the warmer the water seemed to get. Maybe I was just getting used to the temperature. My ears popped multiple times as I moved one laborious pull after the other, the water slowly but inexorably pulling me downstream. I hoped that they would lose track of me in the water. Even if they didn't, the wights should still be too buoyant to get at me, and they'd hopefully be pushed away by the current. I'd only watched them for a few seconds and they seemed to lack fine dexterity. I'd take any advantage I could get.

The river had looked close to a hundred meters wide, and I figured my arm's reach was half a meter. I counted each pull, continuing until I reached what I thought must be the halfway mark, the deepest part of the river. Anchoring myself to a small boulder worn smooth by the ages, I waited. I could remember nightmares like this before. Underwater, a current pulling at me, darkness smothering me. The only thing that kept me from letting go and swimming to the surface was the greater fear that those wights would be waiting for me. I had to consciously remind myself that I wasn't going to drown.

If I died, the people I'd tried to rescue would perish as well. I think they'd get spat out where the portal had been, and last I saw, the whole village was overrun by the undead. I should have probably considered that before jumping into a freezing river, honestly. I wondered what I might have done without my lights or the abilities they granted me. Now that I had time to think, I didn't think there was a way out. Maybe if I'd run along the river, I could have outpaced them for a while. I'd have still needed to stop and rest at some point, and then it would have been all over.

I wished I had a watch or something. I waited, waited longer, and continued to wait. If- No, when I got out of this, I'd start building flamethrowers. Flamethrowers for everyone. With napalm. I didn't know where I was going to get gasoline or Styrofoam, but I'd figure something out. No, flamethrowers were quite out of reach; I needed to find the dragonglass Teagj had mentioned.

I spent a little while wondering what that might be. Oddly, the prospect that there might be dragons didn't surprise me. It was as though it was a fact I'd long since accepted, though I didn't know where or when I'd learned that. Maybe dragonglass was what happened when a dragon breathed fire over sand? Unfortunately, there didn't appear to be any fire-breathing reptiles in the water with me, or I might have asked.

I felt decidedly strange. My thoughts kept skittering away from each other, and my head was pounding. I needed a distraction. Maybe I should use this time to start trying to touch the One Power, at least then I'd be doing something productive instead of hanging to a rock like a useless limpet.

Recalling one of the mental exercises I'd read about, I tried to envision a flower bud in my head. Ironically, Woodworking let me do exactly that. No, focus, that's not the point. What kind of flower would it be? Did it matter? I shook myself, feeling that I was overthinking it. Clearing my mind, I focused on the imagery.

A flower bud, bathed in light. I was the bud, and it was me. I imagined it opening to the light, pink petals unfurling to drink it in; it ended up being a cherry blossom after all. The light was saidar, the female half of the One Power. The flower bud opening to the light, myself opening to saidar. One and the same.

For the barest of moments, I felt something warm brushing the edge of my awareness. It was gone in a heartbeat, but it left me feeling invigorated. I'd done it! I wanted to laugh with joy and relief, and I might have if I hadn't been underwater. If I kept working at it, I'd surely grasp it in time. Hopefully, I'd even survive this brief touch of the Power!

Wait, no, what?

I traced back the origin of that thought, and what I found chilled me far more deeply than the dark waters. Four in five women who touched saidar died without proper training; the knowledge, once uncovered, seared itself into my mind. I'd just put myself on a timer that could be months or weeks. In a few days, I'd start to feel the onset of channeling sickness. It would begin mildly enough, a light fever, chills, and some dizziness. Every time I touched saidar from this point until I learned to actively control it, the symptoms would come sooner and sooner after each touching, growing worse each time. Should I reach the point where I brush saidar and the sickness comes at the same time, I'd surely die slowly and in agonizing pain. My memories were explicit, and I had no difficulty envisioning the process.

I wish I had known that before trying! What had I been thinking!?

I'd either fly or I'd die. That was excellent motivation.

Another constellation swept past, and I reached out to one of the smaller lights. Unexpectedly, it pulled several more along with it.

I almost gasped, catching myself before I ended up with a mouth full of river water. Decades of training and experience flowed into my mind from the lights, all revolving around managing newly formed settlements. Supply chains, logistics, population management, land surveying, geo-analysis, urban engineering, and so much more. It came with the understanding of an entire civilization's tech base. It was all geared towards ecologically friendly solutions and was startlingly advanced. Everything from power to habitation was included. More, every building I designed or built would carry a distinctive flair to it, one that would be easily recognizable as a product of mine.

There was an ability that synergized with the leadership I'd already received, and I found I much better understood how to draw people together and get them to work as a group. It was a kind of communal leadership charisma and it was stunningly comprehensive. Thinking back to that moment when everyone had been shouting at me, I now knew they hadn't been angry with me, they'd been curious and pressured by the fear of the Others. I could have handled it much better; next time, I would.

An oddity had been included. It was like a small pit of darkness, noticeable by the way it occasionally occluded some of the lights. That, too, was something that would affect me whether I wanted it or not. Poking at it told me nothing. I couldn't tell what it was or what it represented, and that worried me. I didn't know what it meant, though I was sure it wasn't a good thing.

The concept that my lights might not all be benevolent rattled me. I'd assumed everything I would collect would be helpful, but in hindsight, I'd not had any evidence for that. This thing in my head, all of these lights I'm tied to, the distant constellations, they could break the world if I wasn't careful. My slip with saidar had been careless; what would happen if I died? Would the lights go away, or would they find somebody else? Would they unleash themselves? Could they?

I stewed in my worries long enough that I lost track of time. Breaking myself out of my preoccupation, I started making my way back to shore along the riverbed. It was as agonizingly slow as getting down here had been, but I thought I could make it to shore before exhaustion took me. After a while, I finally reached the shallows. I stayed below the water until I could lift my head above while remaining prone, then surveyed the shore.

There was no sign of the wights, nor those people made of ice that had been present. The village was quiet and appeared completely untouched. Nothing moved in the trees that I could see.

Cautiously, I stepped ashore and proceeded towards the village. The snow had been churned up around the cleared paths throughout; I could see that the wights had headed downriver as a group. I couldn't make out the prints left by the ice people; maybe they didn't leave any?

The air had warmed again, returning to its normal chill, and there was no sign of the storm. The skies were clear overhead, and the sun hung low over the treetops. The evening had come, and that meant I'd been underwater for at least a few hours. Long enough that the wights had moved on, at any rate.

I tried to clear my lungs of the water that had made its way in, falling to my hands and knees, hacking and coughing until I could breathe comfortably again. The sounds were too loud for comfort in the quiet. Walking through the village, I checked all of the buildings, wary of wights, and I found none. It supported my notion that they'd moved on. Heading back to the hall, I found the raven that had warned me. It was quite dead, lying on the ground on its back with its wings spread wide, and it appeared to have frozen solid. Kneeling next to it, I shook my head.

"Thanks for the help, little guy. Wish I could have returned the favor."

I wasn't sure what to do about the bird, so I brought it back to the river and let the water sweep it away before heading back to the hall. Tapping the wall, I opened the portal, widening it as much as I could. The people within looked frightened and worried but were unharmed. They stared at me even as the animals they'd brought in spilled out in a rush and I had to step to the side.

"It's safe to come out. They're gone." I announced, suddenly unsure of myself.

They didn't move. Grenwin stepped forward, poking her head out of the portal and looking about. Satisfied, she stepped through, turning to address the rest.

"She's right," she stated, "I don't see any of 'em."

The others began to move out cautiously, and I stepped further aside. Grenwin followed, leaning down and poking my sodden shoulder.

"What happened to you? Go for a swim?" She sounded a little concerned for me, and I found the notion quite touching. It was nice of her to care.

I nodded, my head still feeling full of water, "Turns out I just ignore the cold and don't need to breathe. I dragged myself down to the bottom of the river and hung out for a while. They must've given up and left when they couldn't find anyone."

She regarded me with a curious expression. "You… Huh, well, that's pretty useful." Sparing a glance at the others picking their way through the settlement, she added after a moment, "Thanks."

I cocked my head at her, "For the shelter?"

She nodded, holding my gaze with her own, "I've seen those fuckers before and barely got out alive. I lost my bear," she seemed deeply sad for a moment, then it was buried under anger, "And I watched them slaughter my friends. The others haven't seen that kind of thing, they don't get it. We couldn't have run or hid. So, thank you."

Grenwin, I learned in that moment, was very earnest when she wanted to be.

"Oh. You're welcome." Something about what she said seemed off, and my tired thoughts latched onto it. "If running and hiding doesn't work, how'd you survive?"

A haunted look came over her green eyes and her lips pulled back in a grimace, "They wanted me to live. Dunno why. Cruelty, maybe. It doesn't matter."

Nodding, I reached up and patted her shoulder in an attempt to be comforting. She almost pulled back, then bent a little lower to make it easier for me. It was a little gesture, but it spoke volumes. She was actively trying to bear with me.

"It's alright. Thanks for clarifying," I said, feeling a small smile on my lips.

She looked at me quizzically, "For what, now?"

I blinked, "Making your meaning clear."

"Oh." Grenwin blinked back, then grinned. She put a hand on my shoulder, "Let's get you in some dry clothes. Don't need you catching sick, now."

I nodded and she led me away to one of the smaller buildings. I felt like I was teetering on the brink of falling asleep on my feet as she rifled through a basket, pulling out a hide parka. She held it up, eyeing it for a moment before handing it over. She then produced a pair of trousers, as well as a pair of soft boots that were much too large for me but would still protect my feet.

Awkwardly, I changed into the dry, oversized clothes, which hung off me to an embarrassing degree. She didn't turn away as I did so, just watched with glittering green eyes. I was too tired to decipher any meaning in that look, so I let it go. Lifting my arm, I had to pull the sleeve back before I could see my hand.

"I appreciate the clothes, but aren't these a little, ah, large?"

"Well, if you'd rather go without while yours dry…" Grenwin said it with a joking tone, but there was an edge that told me she'd take the clothes back if I wanted her to.

I put up my hands defensively, "No, no, it's fine. I really do appreciate this, Grenwin."

She tousled my damp hair some. "Here's a question for you. How well can you defend yourself?"

"…I have a sword? That's about it. Why?"

Grimacing, Grenwin helped me fold back the long sleeves of the parka. "I'll have to teach you. Unless you want to be taken as a wife by a weakling?"

"What?" Taken as a wife? "What does that mean?!"

"You don't know?" She seemed unsurprised and continued before I could reply. "Around here, we fight to keep what we have. That also means we fight to take what we want from others."

Oh. "And if someone wants a wife or husband, they take it?" I asked.

She shrugged, "Sometimes they take, sometimes they're taken. It's what we've done as long as the Wall's been up."

That was disturbing. It seemed socially legitimized rape, and that was a distressing thing to learn about these otherwise pleasant people. If I was ever in a position to change that, I'd have to do my best to put a stop to the practice, tradition be damned.

"Well," I said, trying to put some humor into my tone, "I should finish up the sleds. We've got one half-built, and I'd like to get it done before I fall over."

Grenwin blinked at me slowly, plainly confused. "Sleds? What sleds? We don't have any sleds."

"You didn't," I winked at her, "Follow me, I'll show you." I waved, turned, and made it all of two steps before tripping over the too-large boots. She caught my arm, steadying me. "Thanks," I told her with genuine gratitude. If I fell, I probably wouldn't be getting back up.

She followed me out and we slowly made our way over to the impromptu construction yard.

Herrick was there with the other two men, and he waved me over. "Hey, builder! Can we finish this one?" He pointed at the half-complete sled lying forlornly in the snow. "We're gonna need it. Oh, Gren, you coming to help, too?"

Grenwin spluttered in shock, looking between me, Herrick, the new sleds, and then at the partially disassembled building. "What?"

I gave her a pat on the arm, "I'll show you." Turning to the men, I clapped my hands, "Let's finish this up!"

It took a little less time than I expected, and my newfound understanding of structural engineering slightly improved the build. It couldn't be severely improved, that would have to wait for new constructions, though it still ended up a little higher quality than the other three.

Standing proudly on the completed sled, I ran my hands over the smoothed handle. This one had an aesthetic to it that made the others seem crude by comparison, and to an extent, that was more due to it having a cohesive aesthetic to begin with while the others were as simple as I could make. I'd worked some decorative vines into the wood, spiraling around each other with the occasional leaf and round flower.

Grenwin inspected the sleds with a critical eye, "I've never seen anything like this. I just watched you build that one and I still can't believe it. How?"

"I'm good at building things," I replied honestly, wobbling on my feet and steadying myself with the sled's handle. "Superhumanly fast, at least."

Herrick laughed, "The Builder come again! And this time, she's one of us!"

I didn't know what that meant, but I was glad that at least one person was taking this well. Herrick seemed a good fellow and I could see us becoming fast friends.

Her vibrant green eyes widened in shock. "The Builder?" She asked it quietly, barely voicing it at all, and she turned to stare at me.

I could only shrug; what could I say to that?

"What's all this?" A call came from the side. Taegj marched up, eyeing the sleds and the remains of the hut we'd built them from. "Herrick, where the fuck did these come from?"

Herrick clapped me on the back and I winced as I felt a wing crumple slightly. "She made them! Don't know how, but she's fast, Taegj. And look!" He stood on the bed of the sled, jumping up and down with heavy thumps, "Sturdy as anything!"

Ow, I thought to myself, straightening my feathers out. Turning and sticking a finger in his face, I met his eyes.

"Hey, don't do that, yeah? It hurts and I don't like it."

Herrick winced, his shoulders tensing as he straightened and nodded. In a voice pitched for my ears, he apologized.

"Sorry, didn't know. Won't happen again."

I withdrew my finger and gave him a pat on the arm.

"Thank you."

"It's true," Grenwin told Teagj in a hollow voice, "I watched her put that one together faster than I could skin a rabbit."

Taegj seemed taken aback. "That's fast," he nodded to her, then walked up to inspect the sleds. After a few moments, he turned to me. "You can do more?"

I couldn't stifle a yawn before answering, "Sorry. More of these, or more things in general? I can make way more than just this. You need homes? I can build homes. Other stuff, too."

Visions of waterwheels driving complex systems of rolling axles and interlocking gears danced among my thoughts. The possibilities felt endless with so many ideas coming to mind. It revealed a problem to me: There were so many things I could do that it was difficult to figure out what I should do. I didn't think these folks needed or even wanted a water-driven clock, as much as the idea pleased me.

Teagj rubbed his chin as he looked speculatively between me, the sleds, and the half-destroyed hut. Then, he grinned broadly and loudly declared, "Looks like we won't need to move after all!"

Grenwin whirled on him, face fierce. "Why?! You saw the wights, the Others! We should go now before they return! A few fancy sleds won't save us!"

He pointed at me, "Her magic hall worked once, it'll work again. Can you make weapons, girl?"

I nodded hesitantly, "My name is Maia, and that's a maybe. I don't know, you said fire or that dragonglass stuff were the only things that could kill the Others, and I can maybe do the fire part."

Clapping his hands together, Teagj turned to Herrick and the other two and waved at me, "Herrick, I need you to help her with whatever she needs. Jorni, Lorni, head down to Antler Point, tell Ellir what happened, and see if you can convince her to trade us some steel."

The men nodded; I didn't know which was Jorni and which was Lorni, they looked quite alike to me. Both had sandy hair cut short, had the same nose, the same stubbled jawline. Brothers, they must have been. I must be more tired than I'd thought if it had taken me that long to figure it out.

Still, he'd just given me more information. There was a settlement nearby called Antler Point, led by a woman named Ellir, and relations were good enough that trade was possible. She was, apparently, also a potential source of steel. I wasn't sure what I'd do with that information, so I committed it to memory for later analysis.

"This is madness, Taegj!" Grenwin shouted angrily, "You'd kill us all, for what?"

"If you want to leave so badly, go." He replied coldly, "See how far you make it without the rest of us."

She reeled back as if struck, hand going to her belt knife before she turned and looked like she was going to angrily march away.

I caught her arm, "Hey, Grenwin, wait a moment."

Hesitating, she looked at me, then scowled at Teagj, setting her jaw stubbornly and crossing her arms as she firmed her stance. She looked about ready to face a charging bull.

"Thank you," I told her quietly, thankful she'd listened. She gave me a sharp nod in reply.

I wasn't comfortable with the way Taegj was looking at me and I'd rather have her nearby. It wasn't lust in his eyes, but it reminded me of how farmers regarded prize livestock. I could almost see him thinking of the ways he could use me, and that was a viscerally disturbing feeling.

He nodded to me, ignoring Grenwin and turning, heading back to the rest of the village.

"Arse thinks he's king." Herrick spat, "We ain't kneelers. I'm gonna help you out because I want to, not for his orders."

Turning to him, "What do you mean? I'm not from around here, and I'm not sure what a kneeler is."

He looked at me, surprised. Studying my face, he nodded slowly. "You don't look like one of us, that's for sure. A kneeler…" He hummed, thinking. "We're free folk. We don't have kings or lords like the people south of the Wall do. Those people scrape and beg at the feet of their lords. They don't stand up for themselves. Kneelers, see?"

That was interesting information. Lords and kings? I couldn't remember any countries with actual lords like that beyond maybe the United Kingdom, but they had a queen. And what was that Wall people kept talking about? Something between these lands and the south, evidently, but why say the word with such vehemence?

"So, this really isn't Canada, then." I couldn't help the strain that showed in my voice. To my ears, my voice was far sadder than I had intended. Grenwin's hand came down to rest on my shoulder and she squeezed once, and I gave her a grateful glance. "I'm alright, promise. Just confused."

"What's a Canada?" Herrick asked, then pointed at the forest, "We're in the haunted forest." Turning, he pointed at the river. "That's the Antler. It runs east 'till it drains into the shivering sea."

Grenwin added, "Further north are the lands of the Bear Clans, and north of that is the Land of Always Winter." I could hear the emphasis in her voice.

I nodded slowly, concern bubbling in my gut. I didn't recognize those names, and I was fairly certain anyone in remote Canada or Russia would have at least heard of the country. Then again, I had been fairly sure that wights weren't a thing, either. Maybe I needed to start considering that I wasn't even on Earth at all. If it wasn't for Grenwin's hand on my shoulder, I might have swayed from the weight of those thoughts. As it was, she kept me standing straight.

"Canada was where I used to live," I said, my voice dull to my ears. "Before I came here. It was different there."

"You alright?" Herrick asked, his brows furrowed in concern. He'd noticed my reaction and appeared to genuinely care, I saw, even though I'd only known him for… What, a few hours? Less?

"I'm fine. Just, I think I'm farther from home than I thought."

My stomach grumbled, and the hunger I hadn't realized I'd been suppressing became an immediate focus. I pat at my belt, then remembered that all my pouches were in Grenwin's shack, and soaked through anyway. Frowning, I looked between the other two.

"Hey, what kind of food do we have to eat around here?"

Herrick grinned, "If we ain't running after all, probably gonna put up an evening fire soon." He pointed at the large firepit set in a clear space before the pale tree, and I saw a few people stacking up firewood.

"Alright, let's go help them out." I offered, glancing at Grenwin, who nodded.

The three of us wandered over and lent our hands to the fire-making.

Soon, it was lit and roaring. Cuts of the deer butchered earlier were being put up on spits or laid atop stick racks to smoke, and I helped prepare things the little I could. It was mostly out of curiosity, wondering if I could somehow make masterwork food as well. Turns out, that light did apply and the simple roast meat and wild vegetables proved immensely satisfying. Everyone in the village, adults and a few children alike had gathered around the fire. They seemed happy to be alive, sharing boisterous stories and incredible tales. Some had produced instruments from somewhere, flutes and drums, and soon there was a cavalcade of music and song.

These people loved to sing. Sometimes, the singers would take a break while someone else would stand and tell a story, though the quality of the telling varied greatly between them. Teagj, surprisingly, performed a great rendition of a story about a man stealing his way into a place called Winterfell and wooing the daughter of a Lord Stark who lived there.

They had been wary of me at first, but as the partying continued, they relaxed and welcomed me like one of their own. It was… Nice. They accepted that I was different from them with a surprising readiness, and somehow those differences only made me more like them.

There was some confusion over my wings, though. I wasn't sure why I had them and my answers to their questions felt too vague to be satisfying. It soon reached the point that Grenwin had to step in.

"Quit it," Grenwin bellowed as she shook her fist at a hazel-eyed woman who had tried to grab at my feathers. "Next person to touch her gets this! Strange or not, she's not hurting anyone. Leave her be."

Grenwin could be loud, and she was just as forceful. Her tone reminded me vaguely of fictionalized drill sergeants. She'd said she'd lost her bear and her friends to the Others, but this made me think she had long experience verbally beating people into line. It made me wonder where she came from, and who she'd been to her people before coming here.

I could ask her later if I remembered. I was still doing my best to stay awake, and I was fairly successful. Whenever I'd begin to drift, there'd be a pulse of warmth from the hilt under my palm and I'd jerk back awake for a while. It was a surprise the first time, and the second, but then it became almost routine.

Thanks, sword. I thought towards it. For a moment, something cold brushed the edge of my thoughts and I shivered, then it was gone like it'd never been. Was that a response, or just my imagination?

I had no way of knowing; further attempts at communication were fruitless.

Back on Earth, I was sure that I'd be either ostracized or aggressively hunted down if anyone knew I could do what I had shown so far. The government probably, maybe corporations, but I'd have probably been locked up and made to build until I outlived my usefulness.

There was none of that attitude here. Sure, Taegj seemed to think I was useful enough to keep around, but it seemed that the thought of forcing me to stay and work hadn't even crossed his mind. Herrick, on the other hand, had been loudly proclaiming me the builder come again, prompting others to tell their tales of the mythical man.

They said his name had been Bran Stark, and while half the tales said he built great castles and the Wall, others claimed they'd been built on the backs of giants. The stories vacillated between respect and hatred, depending on the teller, with some proclaiming him to have been Bran the Betrayer and telling how he and his had forced the free folk, the giants, and a people they called the singers north of the Wall and set an army to ensure they could never return south.

The evening passed in an exhausting blur. There was a moment when Grenwin had stood between me and the fire, speaking to someone else, and it brought back the imagined broad-shouldered woman I'd thought I saw in my campfire the night before. We ate, and we sang, and after she brought me back to her hut and built a pile of bedding for me, despite my protestations. I told her I could sleep in my boring white room, that I only needed a door for my key to fit, and that I could make my own bed, but she insisted and I inevitably found myself settling down among comfortable furs.

Sleep came on me suddenly and without warning, and I welcomed it.