The Little Wolf

Run

King's Landing

Her soul was getting stronger, she could sense it.

She was learning who she was, embracing the Outsider she was born as, and she knew her destiny would become clearer as her soul developed. Lev was still young, as was Lyra, and didn't always listen, but Maester Leland said they were bonding well, and working together as Outsider and Helai should. Lyra was confused what her Maester had spoken many months ago, when he said often deep heartache brought the soul closer. Lyra had been sad, even desperately angry, but never had her heart been broken.

 They could most times communicate with just their minds, Lev, more times than not failing to shut up and let Lyra have thoughts of her own. Everyone takes for granted how peaceful their mind is until someone else occupies it.

"Your soul is strong, my child", Maester Leland beamed as Lyra whistled and Lev flew and landed on her shoulder, as a magnificent Snow Owl, ivory-toned and splendid.

"I still can't change his species with my mind though, like you can do with Sella" she said wistfully. 

 Leland smiled, whistled for Sella, and promptly she flew from a copper-coloured Eagle- powerful and clear- to an inquisitive, resourceful Pine Marten, foraging on the ground.

"We are one, my child, and in the years coming you and Lev will unite as one, too. You are his master, and he is your shadow. He needs you and you need him, and one day you will both learn this."

Lyra smiled up at him, her smile exhibiting gaps from baby teeth that had dropped out following her fifth nameday. It was effervescent and warm; Jon used to shield his eyes dramatically, saying that her smile was so bright it stung his eyes. The old man agreed. The girl kept him sane, and kept his soul grounded.

The old man smiled at her gently, before tears pricked his eyes. "You warm my cold heart, Lyra".

"You don't have a cold heart, Maester Leland".

"One day....I..." and then he stopped, and dabbed his eye. 

And before she knew it, she was crying as well, for a reason she was unsure of. The sadness crept up to her and she couldn't chase it away, despite her best attempts.

It was a day that started out so happy. It was the day of their departure from King's Landing, and after a journey of a month, the family would be together again in Winterfell . 

Her old Maester turned away, muttering to Sella, "Why her? Why a destiny so cruel, why a road so harsh" in a whisper so soft and unclear, Lyra only made out a few words. 

Maester Leland reached out and stroked the girl's arm tenderly, before saying, with a hint of sorrow, "You mean more to me than I can explain, my child. Never forget that. Your future will be harsh, the world will be cruel, but hold onto the memories and treasure them. Go your own way, create your own path, but never forget where you came from. Promise me that, Lyra, my sweet."

"I promise, Maester", she whispered, holding his hand comfortingly, curious as to what caused his sorrow. 

Leland reached into a deep pocket of his grey cloak. His long grey beard and matching hair blended into his cloak like a curtain, or a mask that showed only his mournful blue eyes, effervescent like hers, and blanket of wrinkles. After a few moments of groaning, wincing and fiddling, he pulled out a small object wrapped in a scrap of grey cloth. 

"This is for you, sweet Lyra. For you to always remember who you are."

The little wolf took the gift with much gratitude, and gently unwrapped it from the cloth. A teardrop shaped token made of ivory, strung by a thin strap of leather, with an owl carved neatly on one side, "Lyra" carved on the other. Lyra knew immediately what it was and flung her arms around her Maester's neck.

When an Outsider began to connect with their Soul they were gifted much the same necklace; only the creature carved and the name differed between necklace. It was the emblem of the tribe, the signature of an Outsider. Lyra, at her core, was a wise owl. Though her personality changed, and she herself changed with age and experience, her roots would always be that of an Owl. 

Lyra had admired Leland's totem in the past; an eagle. Such an animal to symbolize the intelligence of the man, as well as his power, ambition and passion. The man that was executed was a Heron, the symbol of patience, peace and integrity. Lyra had hundreds of animals stored in her head; while her brother's learned of sigils, house words and holdfasts, Lyra learned the ways of the Soul. She, as she aged, would be able to look at any given man and judge their personality, or who they were at the core of their being. Thus, Outsider's were very good at judging who to trust, and quite often, in the cruel world Leland described, that number was very slight.

Lyra continued to squeeze Leland tightly, loving him desperately in that moment. The man who taught her who she was, and how to treasure her Soul. In the distance she could hear a racket, and the faint sounds of swords being drawn, and men shouting. She let go of her Maester curiously, only to see tears fill his eyes.

"Run" was the first thing he said, before Lyra could ask. Tears dribbled down his cheeks, as he gave Lyra a kiss on her own. "Run, my sweet, sweet Lyra. Run. The swords are coming for you."

Tears filled her eyes in an instant, her lip quivered so hard it began to go numb. Fear. She felt it rise again in her chest, the same feeling she felt when the Monster made itself known, and instantly she wanted her Father. She wished he was there to protect her, to cradle her, but he was absent.

Run, she told herself, and she heard Lev echo it back to her:

Run, Lyra, Run.