The Legacy of the Old

Marcellus followed Eddard up the stairs and walked through a set of corridors before arriving to a door, Eddard opened it and once inside, unstrapped the Great Sword on his hip and put it aside. Marcellus did the same.

The solar was spacious, with a table neatly organized at the center. On to the side a fireplace was alit, along with various books and decorations filling the room.

Lord Eddard sat behind the table quietly, seeing as Marcellus was still standing, he offered him a seat which he gladly took; Ser Rodrik with Lord Rickard seating opposite of him, and Maester Wyman standing behind Lord Eddard.

At the sound of a knock on the door, Eddard spoke.

"Come in."

A servant girl opened the door, she had brown hair, and had a slim body. She approached the table and served Bread and Salt, while doing so she looked over Marcellus slightly, noticing the look, he gave her a smile, in which the girl smiled back and left the room soon after.

"I offer you bread and salt, you may have our due hospitality for as long as you stay here."

"Thank you Lord Eddard, now as for our purpose here, we all know that already, so please, ask away and i shall answer thoroughly."

The first to ask a question was Maester Wyman "My Lord, you stated earlier that you came from the west, to our knowledge, there is no lands west of westeros, can you tell us of the lands you came from?"

"Well it's not exactly lands, it's an Island, an Island west of here, it is not small nor big, just enough to sustain me and my family, along with the Ancestors that lived before us."

"Ahh, then My Lord, how come only you has decided to venture out to the open sea? Surely you must have needed companions?"

"Well....." Marcellus started, uncomfortable on the topic, he didn't know where to start, although he is determined, brave, and strong, he has never opened up about his family to anyone else, especially strangers he has only met.

"To put it simply, an epidemic killed the Islands' population until i was the only one left." He answered quickly, avoiding the eyes observing him.

Silence ensued, and the Maester couldn't utter a word out of his mouth. "I-i-i am terribly sorry for asking."

Eddard silently observed the man, earlier during their meeting he looked like a warrior, cold and unyielding. Bt when asked about his past, the man's outer shell cracks ever so slightly, but he still maintains the mask of strength and determination. Eddard could read one small thing about him, this was a man running from the past.

"Let's move past the topic" Eddard said, he wanted to know more about this man's origin.

"You stated earlier that you are Head of House Atlas, I will assume that you are the last member of said House. Will you give us more information about your House?" At this question, the Maester listened more intently, keen on hearing about Marcellus' Answer.

Marcellus recalled his father's teaching, and answered "Our house lived in the Island for over 12,000 Years, although some members of our House was left here in Westeros. Our House's words are 'Stellae i formare' in the common tounge it means 'The stars I form.'

At the answer, the Maesters' eyes widened. "Tell me, My Lord, who was the founder of your House?"

"Our house descends from the Great Alexander Atlas."

Both the Maester and Ned hitched their breath. With Ser Rodrik Cassel and Lord Rickard repeated the name in ther heads, having a sense of familiarity.

"I see the both of you know. You Maester, I understand, but you, Lord Stark? I'm quite certain my Ancestors made sure that no one knew of our existence besides the Citadel." Maecellus asked curiously.

"Im sorry to interrupt, but what are you referring to, exactly?" Lord Rickard asked.

"Long ago, before the age of heroes, and before history itself, there was once a man named Alexander of House Atlas. Together with a mighty army he carved an Empire that ruled the old world. From the Lands of Always Winter to the Summer Sea, from the Sunset Sea until the Dothraki Sea, they ruled." Maester Wyman stated, Years of knowledge reciting.

"How come we don't know of this, Maester?" Ser Rodrik asked.

Before the Maester answered, He looked over Marcellus and silently asked for permission. Marcellus nodded.

"To unknown reasons, this Empire, after ruling for almost Thousands of Years, fell. And when the time came, House Atlas fled to the Sunset Sea. House Atlas, being as the house that established the Citadel and the order of Maesters, they erased their Name and Legacy. They made the order of Maesters pass on the knowledge amongst ourselves. But, each and every one of us swore never to pass on the knowledge to the common people. Those that broke this oath, suffered." The Maester ended the story, tugging onto one of his chains.

"Lord Stark, care to share?" Marcellus asked.

*Cough*

"There was once a story my father told us. Of a Marcius Atlas, a good friend of my Ancestor Brandon the Builder. this Marcius Atlas helped my Ancestor accomplish all his great deeds. Marcius Atlas, however, died during the long night, sacrificing his life whilst saving Brandon's own. Brandon Stark stated to us, that if ever the Atlas' return, we must aid them in the wars to come."

"In the wars to come." Marcellus repeated. "Each and every one of us knew, hmm. That we would return to claim what's ours."

At that sentence, The Three men's eyes narrowed, except for Maester Wyman.

"Claim what's yours? And what is that?" Eddard asked cautiously.

"The world of course."

"Conquer? The world? You? It looks more like a Boy pursuing the glories of Ancestors long since passed. You're no conqueror. Just someone thinking they can earn glory because their Ancestor could." Eddard said, without hesitation.

This was only a boy, alone in this world. And although he sounded harsh, to have such ambitions would only get him killed. Best to teach him now than have his lesson handed to him later.

"I will reclaim my Ancestors legacy!" Marcellus said furiously.

"You're only a boy! How old are you anyway? You're alone in this world, your family is dead, and you're only pretending to be a man when you're not!"

Marcellus stood from his seat

"Aye, I am a boy, I may be pretending be a Man yes, And I am 6 and 10 years old if that satisfies you. but I will never fail my father and his fathers' before him. House Atlas dies or rises with me, I won't shame them in Elysium. I will rule this world and unite it under one banner or die trying, that's the decision I made when I left that Island." Marcellus answered. Eyes filled with determination.

Eddard stared at him, quietly. He wondered for a moment if this boy was even sane. But ultimately he made a decision.

"Fine, go on. Pursue you ambitions, It is your life not mine. I have only just met you today, For the sake of my Ancestor, ask anything you want and I shall give it to you if I can." Every word making Marcellus calm down, returning to his seat.

"Hmm, 'You must aid them in the wars to come.' tell me, Lord Stark, will you obey this call by your Ancestor?"

"It's a story aging Millenias. Not everything is true. I have decided to believe the actions of your Ancestor and has offered you help in order to repay it. That's enough. The North can't be bought by a story. Even if it was true, you haven't no Army, no Lands, and no Strength. You're no one, why should the North rally to an ambition that could kill Tens of Thousands?"

"Hundreds." Marcellus whispered.

"Sorry?"

"Hundreds of Thousands." Marcellus corrected him. "When the time comes - and it will come - there will be a moment where you must choose. I hope you choose wisely." Marcellus stared deep into Ned's eyes. And for a moment Eddard felt it. Winter is coming.