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|Word Count: 13,449|

𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘞𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘓𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳:𝘎𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘵
𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦
𝘔𝘪𝘥 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝐆𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝. While the roof was long gone, half the walls crumbled and only a third of an upper floor remained with a stairway leading up to it. He had been training Arya here to learn more about fighting and moving in different surroundings. King's Landing had reminded him how different it was to fight outside of the wilderness, since the confining spaces made fighting quite difficult. Today was one of her first real tests, putting everything she had learned at the Red Keep and over the last two weeks.

They had built a few training dummies with scrap metal attached to them, being examples of common armor types someone would wear. He knew the girl needed to understand how to deal with foes wearing heavier armor, since everyone else she sparred with favored lighter armor. They had also built a short balancing ledge with a simpler version of the pendulum like the one at Kaer Morhen. While it wasn't as big or had the large blunt spikes along the lower base, it was suitable enough to test the girl's balance and fighting coordination.

Arya had been advancing quickly in her training, despite how difficult and rough each new exercise became. Often, she'd end the day exhausted and sore, needing a whole day of rest before being able to continue. Even as she rested she'd study on the collection of books Geralt had on hand, mainly studies on monsters from his world. He hoped she wouldn't ever have to face the horrible creatures he had hunted countless times yet felt being informed could prepare her for the greater danger he knew lurked in the north.

"You got that tense look about you Geralt." Thoros remarked, snapping the Witcher from his thoughts. He'd glance to Arya who was busy practicing against the balance pendulum, the girl wearing her new set of Witcher training armor. Gendry and the other crafters had put quite the effort into the outfit, which had a Northerner style to it to make it unique in appearance yet practical in protection. The young girl had no trouble moving around, shuffling and twisting quite easily as she'd strike across the wooden pendulum before weaving around it to attack from the other side.

"A lot on my mind lately." Geralt muttered back to the Red Priest who chuckled in response.

"Its the damn waiting." The Red Priest said with a low growl. "Wish I was in the Riverlands now leading good men against the Lannisters, not cooped up on this blasted rock."

|𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐒|Where stories live. Discover now