The Silent Wolf

Chapter 15

Once foes locked in strife and ire,

Now fate weaves a new desire.

From battles waged and grudges deep,

A path emerges, secrets to keep.

Through trials faced and wounds once bared,

A fragile trust is slowly repaired.

In shadows cast, an alliance blooms,

Forging a bond that defies all dooms.

Where swords clashed and hatred reigned,

A truce emerges, past scars restrained.

Hand in hand, we rise above,

Enemies transformed by bonds of love.

Through newfound unity, strength we find,

Together we stand, no longer blind.

From foes to allies, a testament true,

In unity, our triumph will pursue.

----

It felt extremely off like something in the air was burning his skin.

He woke that day like he did any other day. The only difference was that he felt strange. His head ached and his body felt as if it had been freezing in the wilderness of the North.

He realized a little later than he'd have liked that he was in a place he did not recognize. The chamber was huge, the ceiling high and the walls decorated simply but in a grand fashion. He was laying on the ground, staring at the ceiling and wondering what happened.

The last thing he remembered was being placed in a completely dark room with the sole purpose of lighting the razor-sharp obsidian candle that came from the once-great Valyrian Empire. He remembered seeing a flicker in the dark, a pale greyish flicker and then nothing.

Thinking about the candle made his palm ache. Curious he brought it to his face. A drop of blood fell on his lips, and in panic, he got to his feet.

He had been laying on the ground in the middle of a crescent-shaped table. The sun was peeking through the windows and the ravens were calling.

There was a knock on the door that made him jump, the sound echoing through the giant room.

"Archmaesters? Are you alright? You've been inside for too long" someone familiar said from the other side of the door. Archmaesters? Why would the person ask about them?

He looked around and felt his legs give out from underneath him.

Six men sat on the six chairs behind the crescent-shaped table, their masks of various metals resting in front of them. Six men with six varying wounds sat gaping, bleeding from various places. One man had lost both his eyes, his mouth gaping wide, while one had their face bashed in beyond recognition. One had a broken neck, his head seemingly only hanging on because of his skin, while another had his jaw ripped away. The last two were missing their noses, holes so wide that a branch could pass through with ease. All six men were dead, their clothes drenched with their blood.

The knocking had become furious and he didn't know what to do. There were windows he could climb out of.

Multiple people were at the door, slamming against it while he could only stare in horror at the death around him. He couldn't move, his legs would simply not obey.

The doors creaked before they were opened wide. A whole group of men charged in and all he could do was stare at them all.

***