Witches

Arriving a few servants were finishing cleaning up the room, who'd soon leave once Robb and Jason arrived. Luwin would be beside Bran's bed, busy examining the boy's legs, testing if he felt anything or could draw a muscle reflex with his prodding. Laying close beside Bran was the boy's direwolf Summer, who'd rest his head on the boy's lap in a protective manner.

"No…nothing," Bran said, his voice low in tone and tired as he laid there.

"I see…troubling," Luwin muttered before noticing Jason and Robb's arrival. "It is as I suspected. The boy has lost all feeling to legs. No doubt a spinal injury cutting off all connection."

Despite the saddening news, Bran was oddly quiet, no crying or begging. Jason knew the boy was tough, yet even that impressed him. Robb stepped up, a sad look on his face as he'd hold Bran's hand, the boy tightly holding on. Jason stood beside the young noble, keeping a calm look despite the mix of emotions he felt.

"Bran, do you remember what happened at the ruined tower? Do you know how you fell from it?" The Surgebinder asked in a low voice. He'd look to Summer who whined a bit to him for attention. Sighing, Jason scratched the direwolf behind the ears, making the wolf pant happily.

Bran's closed his eyes, trying to focus on that day and moment. "I remember me and Summer running along the plains. I wanted to go explore that old tower ever since I got good at climbing." Pausing, he'd rub the direwolf's head before continuing. "I remember nearing a window and heard something. I peaked in then…remembering something push me off the ledge." Shaking his head, he'd sigh. "That's all I remember."

"It's fine. Maybe over time, your memory will come back. Trust me…I know how it's like."

Bran nodded before moving one hand to the wooden wolf medallion on his neck with a small smile before looking to the crossbow and quiver beside him. Jason moved to the items and handed them over to the boy who looked them over closely. "I guess we'll be able to practice archery still." He said, a hopeful hint showing in his voice.

"Course you will. I'll carry you out myself once you've rested up a bit." Robb chuckled. "Still you'll need someone to help you around, carry you about to handle other matters." Thinking for a moment, the young man soon had an idea. "Hodor be fitting. Man's maybe dull-minded, yet as strong as a bull and knows how to listen well."

Jason remembered to see the large servant since coming to Winterfell. From what he knew the man suffered some kind of sudden seizer that left him simple-minded when he was young. "Sounds fitting. Still, back home I remember some members of nobility having specialized chairs for movement, wheelchairs. Don't know the designs but...could be something Luwin could research into."

The Maester thought for a moment before nodding at the idea. "I have heard of such a device. Most designs I've heard vary in complexity yet I think with time and effort a proper one can be built for the young master."

"Then please do that Luwin. Whatever materials you need I'll have them delivered in haste." Robb added, showing his support for this idea.

"Best that I get to work then." Nodding to everyone, the old Maester hurried out of the room, leaving the others to themselves.

"So…where his father and mother? Shouldn't they be here as well?" Bran asks after a moment, fiddling a bit with his crossbow yet having a worried look on his face.

Robb glanced to Jason, yet the Surgebinder shrugged to the young man who'd sigh, realizing this was his responsibility. "A lot has happened after your departure …so this may take a while to explain."

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Deep in the marshlands, a raspy chuckle echoed through the forest. A hunched figure hurried through the mix of muddy water and dense woods, not slowed by the rough terrain. "Ohh what a surprise this was." The voice chuckled, female in tone yet having a faint hint of other voices behind every word. "To think he'd be here. Yet the threads of fate call for it…"

Light shined ahead as a large worn cabin peeked through the trees, a secluded place far from the main roads and towns. Nearing the build, the light, at last, revealed the hunched figure who at a glance was best described as a disfigured woman. She wore an oversized cone-shaped hat on her head and patchwork clothes made of a mix of leather and cloth which held together with a pair of rotting human legs like a grim trophy at the front of her gown. Her face was partly covered, the right eye having a dirtied brown cloth over it as a patch while the other was flesh fused socket with hive-like holes where buzzing insects nested in.

Entering the cabin, the witch chuckled as he'd take out the latest collection of child's hair, having gotten a tidy tribute from the more secluded villages. Her attention focused on the largest wall of the room which had a massive tapestry set across it, depicting three beautiful women in rags conducting some occult ritual. Yet two of them were marred by burn marks and blades, showing that someone had vandalized it. "That Hunter wounded us." The crone growled as he gazed at her work.

"They brought the hunters. Weak men…yet persistent and numerous. They raided our home, ruined my masterpiece." She'd get her needle out, moving to the tapestry as she began to skillfully weave the hair to continue repairing it. "They attacked our Sabbath. Broke out power over Velen. Murdered you, my beautiful sisters!" She nearly wailed out, feeling such pain of their absence. "Yet the Conjunction of the world began again. How I sensed the vast swell of magic…worlds rich and untapped of it. This one was so ripe to take foot in, innocent to our kinds touch."

She'd finish the line of hair, getting another bunch as she continued. "The air is so empty. The Source sleeps deeply…yet soon it will awaken in the roar of fire, screams and blood!" She'd cackle as she remembered the vision she had when she arrived in this world. "She who is heir to the throne of iron and will birth the dragons anew to the world. In turn, you will be reborn as well!" She used the last of the hair, the tapestry partly mended. "We'll have our revenge sisters. The Hunter is blind to the truth and the promised one lost. Their flesh will be one we'll savour…" witch cackled out in sadistic glee.