Game of Thrones: The Rise of the Cursed King

On a bridge, in the middle of the night, a young guy could be seen staring at the stream beneath his feet.

His clothes, in tatters, were bloodstained, and beneath them, there were still fresh cut wounds.

"Mother, Father, Sister... I will finally join you."

The young man, who looked no more than 20 years old, moved his hand in which was a pistol, and pointed it at his head.

Closing his eyes, his expression changed several times showing pain and anger until finally relaxing and making a slight smile.

"Bam!"

A lifeless body was swept down the river unnoticed.

*****************************************

"AAAhhhhh!"

"Aaaahh!"

In a cabin in the middle of a blizzard, a woman's screams of pain could be heard.

"Ooofffff!!!"

The woman, gasping, looked beneath her and was horrified.

"Gods..."

She had just given birth, but there was not the slightest expression of happiness, or at least of calmness and relief at noticing that the babies looked healthy.

Quite the contrary, her face was filled with struggle looking at one of her children.

With effort, she sat down on the bed made of animal skins, to cut the twins' umbilical cord with an old bronze knife.

"A boy..."

The new mother, held her babies, a boy and a girl, as she nursed them with a frown.

According to her visions, she should not have a boy, but only a girl.

The gods had never lied to her, besides, according to the deal her ancestors had made, if a boy is to be born of her flesh or that of her descendants, they should be given to the dark spirits so that they, in turn, would not destroy the black axe tribe.

As the shaman of the tribe, it was her duty to prevent the dark spirits from destroying the tribe by killing everyone and reviving them as the cursed dead.

Therefore, in her eyes, there was only concern as she looked at the newborn child in her arms.

"Fuuuuuuuussssss!!!"

A cold breeze entered the hut as the furs protecting the entrance opened, revealing a large man entering.

He was tall, nearly 6 feet tall, silver chain mail covered his body, along with several pieces of leather armor and thick black gloves.

A bronze helmet protected his head, and when he removed it, a clump of red hair fell over his shoulders, revealing a large red beard.

"I brought the herbs and milk you asked for, old Thorley wouldn't give them to me, so I had to kill him and take it."

The woman was not surprised by the man's words and only nodded.

"They're born."

The man removed all the pieces of armor from his body, then approached the woman and looked at the faces of the two children in the woman's arms.

"Are they healthy?"

He didn't dare touch them or try to hold them, afraid of accidentally hurting them with his huge, thick hands.

"They are."

The woman nodded without changing her expression in the slightest.

All her previous worries ceased to show on her face since the man entered the hut, and she only showed eyes and a voice as cold as ice.

"But one of them is a boy."

The man seemed surprised by the woman's words but then began to laugh.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

After a few moments, he merrily plopped down next to the woman.

"You said you couldn't have male children, or did your gods lie to you?"

With a hint of mockery, the man spoke contemptuously toward the woman.

"Oswin, don't laugh at the gods."

With seriousness, the woman spoke toward the man revealing his name.

"Yes, yes, as you say, woman, and what's the matter with you having a son now."

Oswin took a drink of the milk he had just stolen, under the woman's cold gaze.

"According to tradition, he must be given to the dark spirits or they will destroy the whole tribe."

The woman spoke looking at the face of her male child as she suckled him, no feeling could be discerned in her voice, but it was not the same for Oswin.

"You will not give my son to any spirit, woman."

Oswin's words were as cold as ice, but in them, one could sense the fury contained within.

"You will bring the destruction of the tribe and the death of all with your decision."

The woman did not look at him, and only spoke in the same tone as before.

"Then let them come, I will wait for them with my axe, but they will not touch any of my children!"

Oswin stroked his black axe, a weapon given by his father that was said to be an ancient relic.

"Not even a warrior like you will be able to resist if the spirits of the forest come for us."

The woman's cold reply was not long in coming, angering Oswin even more.

"There will be no more talk of this, woman, this is my last word, and I warn you, you will not give my children to any dark spirits, or my axe will cut your throat before it cuts theirs."

The woman remained expressionless even after receiving the death threat.

Oswin waited a few moments for his message to be received and preceded to lie fully on the bed to sleep.

He had been walking early in the morning in the middle of a snowstorm, looking for the things the shaman had asked for.

In the cold, it did not take him more than a few minutes to fall asleep, and in less than an hour he fell into a deep sleep.

The woman waited until this moment, touched Oswin in several places to make sure he was asleep and got up.

She covered her daughter in furs and left her a little away from Oswin so that he would not accidentally crush her, for the hut was not very large. As for her son, she planned to leave him in the forest with the dark spirits and return before Oswin awoke.

When he would later ask her what had happened to her son, she would only reply that the dark spirits took him away while he slept, and he would have nothing else to do but scream and kill some men to vent his anger.

She needed to do this to ensure the survival of the entire tribe, so she hardened her heart and left the hut.