35 2/2

Geralt noticed Syrio close by the Stark family, facing off against two Watch guards he parried their attacks and dodge about, stabbing one man in the side then the other in the back with his sharp thin blade. Beric and his men were trying to clear a path southward, yet most were busy trying to keep the follow of attackers back who filed out from the other alleys. Smoke bombs were thrown as istractions, letting a few get a few lethal blows on the surprised soldiers, yet one by one a few of the Loyalists were being picked off as well. The lack of better armor and weapons with reach left them at a disadvantage.

"Let's even the odds." Thoros yelled out, the man grabbing a dropped shield among the fallen.

"Help keep the reinforcements back while I help clear an escape route!" Geralt ordered, the Red Priest nodding as he charged off, shield bashing a trio of soldiers, giving his fellow allies a chance to regroup.

Geralt moved over to the gathered Starks and Syrio, the duelist quickly seeing the stern look the Witcher had towards Arya. "I found the girl at the plaza mid-way through the trial. Seems she had slipped away from Davos watch soon after we left." Syrio explained, making Arya glance away slightly.

For a moment the Witcher wanted to snap out at her, but the look Eddard's gave showed he had already chastised his daughter for her recklessness. "At least she's safe." However, he'd suddenly hear the whisk of an arrow nearing them, twisting about to deflect it out of the air before it hit him. Looking up, he'd see soldiers on the lower roof tops, armed with bow or crossbows. Seeing one taking aim, Geralt drew his crossbow with his free hand and fired, striking the soldier in the chest before he fell to the ground with a cry. "We're not going to last with arrows and bolts coming down on us!"

More projectiles were fired into the group, Geralt working his blade back and forth as he blocked as many as he could. With practiced skill, he'd reload his crossbow, loading in more specialized bolts such as a split or small explosive bolt to take out a group of archers. The men who had shields raised them overhead to provide cover, while those without kept the ground forces back. Eddard kept low, keeping both daughters close to shield them, though his supporters made sure to provide cover for the lord.

"Damn we just need an opening!" Beric yelled out, kicking one of the guards back and dodging a thrusted spear, quickly snapping the shaft with a strong slash.

At this point there was only one choice left as Geralt moved to draw out a grapeshot. He hated the idea of using such a bomb in close quarters will his companions close by, but he had to risk it. "Retreat! If you value your life take cover!" It was a warning for both his allies and the soldiers, giving them a chance to spare themselves. He'd see a few of the soldiers yell out some warnings, recognizing the Witcher, yet a group seemed determined to press on the assault.

Lighting the bomb, he threw it at the choke point of the alley just as the last of the Loyalists hurried away. The soldiers must didn't back off even as the explosive rolled close, no doubt thinking it a harmless smoke bomb. However, the devastating explosion proved otherwise, drawing horrible screams as the men at the center of the blast were blown into pieces while those just far off were thrown aside. The force of the bomb cracked the nearby walls of the buildings making the alley, causing them to crumble to partly block the way.

"Arya…Sansa…don't look back there…" Geralt heard Eddard mutter, not wanting his girls to see the scattered body parts and splattered blood that bomb had created. Sansa whimpered, the girl no doubt in shock over all the violence she witnessed today. Arya did glance slightly at the gory carnage, a troubled fascination showing much like she had seeing Syrio fight back at the Red Keep.

"Gods…" Beric muttered, the sight shocking even to the experienced lord.

"No time to be battle shocked." Geralt warned, glancing up to see the archers had ducked away, worried of more bombs or exploding crossbow bolts. "Their scared off for now, but they'll be back any moment." He'd pause as he glanced around, debating on a new way forward. All the remaining alleys were no doubt guarded, leaving them cornered in this yard. Before he could speak up though, he heard a click behind him from one of the backdoors to one building. "Behind us!"

Most of the Loyalists turned to the door, weapons raised as it opened. A Lannister soldier stood behind it before suddenly dropping forward onto the ground. A confused look crossed Geralt's face before seeing someone else who had been standing behind the soldier, a gray cloaked figure stepping into view. Even before the hood was pulled back, Geralt recognized the man by just his tall and steady stance.

"Barristan?"

Indeed, the man revealed his face to show the old knight who'd give a small smile to the Witcher. A few of the Loyalists did keep their swords up, yet Geralt waved a hand quickly. "Stand down. He's not with the Lannister's anymore."

"Seems my dismissal reached even your ears Geralt." The knight chuckled.

"I'm sorry you lost your title and place with the King's Guard. Still without your help we would most likely be dead or in chains."

"It was my choice and one I don't regret doing." However, he'd stop as there were orders being shouted in the distance as the soldiers were regrouped for another attack. "Now is not the time for talk though." He'd gesture deeper into the house. "This way should get us around the soldiers. Hopefully we can slip away to the harbor."

"How did you know we were heading there?' Geralt questioned.

"It's the logical approach of escape. Again, save your questions for later."

The men seemed hesitant to follow along, though Thoros and Syrio were quick to follow.

"If there is one man I can fully trust it is Barristan." Beric spoke out, making small mutters of agreement follow up from his men. "Let's get moving!" Everyone began to file into the building, though Eddard and his daughters were let in first.

"Thank you, Barristan." Ned muttered respectfully, placing a firm hand on the man's shoulder.

"Later Eddard. I have much to apologize for once we have time to speak."

Geralt soon followed along while Beric and his few men came in last, closing and barring the door behind them. Inside the house, the Witcher saw eight soldiers spread around the room, all of them unconscious. "Impressive work, even more without killing them."

"Death isn't a fair price for following their duty. Hopefully they will understand their mistakes."

The two older warriors followed the group through the small house, leaving the simple dining and kitchen space to a hallway leading to the front door of the building. Thoros was the first ahead, opening the door and peeking out onto the main street. "Seems to be clear." He muttered as he'd step out first, the rest of the group following along onto the street.

"We are a bit exposed out here, but we now have a clear route to the harbor. Hopefully we'll-" Barristan started before pausing as there was noise coming from the north end of the street, the stomping of boots of a nearing group of soldiers. "I spoke too soon."

"Keep moving! Whatever happens don't stop!" Geralt yelled out, knowing they'd need to be fast to reach the harbor. Already there were distant yells and horns being blown as the soldiers had noticed them. Glancing back, he could see the small army of men giving chase further down the street, crossbowmen among the ranks even taking distant shots.

"Idiots!" Beric cursed as one bolt flew close by. "Seems they don't care about possibly killing the Starks!"

"Or have a lack of orders." Barristan remarked before hearing the clack of hooves. "They got riders!"

There were only six of them, showing the soldiers hadn't had time to mobilize all their forces. They weren't true cavalry thankfully, just soldiers armed with long spears on unarmed horses. Still they'd easy run down the group and slow them down if they got ahead.

"If you have any bombs or flares left use them now!"

The remaining men fumbled for what they had left, throwing the smoke bombs back or blindly firing flares. All the noise startled the riders' mounts, halting their charge and even flinging one man off onto the street. The added smoke screen even provided cover, though a few bolts still flew by around them.

"There is the harbor…and Davos' ship!" Syrio yelled out, pointing it out to the others. Davos' ship was active, the crew busy getting the anchor read and sails out to leave. On the far side of the docks though were more soldiers, a group from the southern side of the city who had been alerted of the Loyalists escape.

"Damn it, these soldiers are everywhere!" Beric cursed as the reinforcements started shooting at the group, forcing the Loyalists with shields and Geralt to focus on shieldng the front of the group. Heading down the slopped street to the docks, a small force of soldiers was charging upward to clash with the group get in the way.

Geralt growled in frustration as three men rushed at him, yet a strong Aard flung them away yelling out in shock. His vision blurred intensely, making stumble as that weakness hit him with the feeling now nauseating as he'd gasped for breath. Despite the shock of seeing their companions get thrown aside, the remaining soldiers continued their charge only for Thoros, Syrio and most of the remaining Loyalists clashed with them. Beric held Eddard up to support him while Barristan guarded Sansa and Arya alongside two of Beric's men. The oldest daughter looked faint from all the running and violence around her, yet she kept going on when her sister held her hand tightly.

Despite most of the foot soldiers being held back, six were able to break away to chase after the Starks while archers farther back took were in position to give support fire. Already Beric and his two men turned to keep the foot soldiers back, forcing Barristan to support up Eddard and keep an eye on his daughters.

One of Beric's men didn't react enough to avoid a spear to the throat, yet his companion yelled out in rage as he gutted the soldier with his sword. It was short lived vengeance though as two of the soldiers closed in, stabbing the Loyalists from both sides. It gave time for Beric to cut down one of the soldiers, yet he was outnumbered by the remaining four. He'd pick up a dropped sword, taking a more defensive stance, though it was obvious the man was exhausted from all the running and fighting.

By the time Geralt had recovered from his moment of weakness, getting the energy to move once more. "Not yet…not when we're this close." Forcing himself onward, Geralt rushed past the main battle, sword spinning about as two men tried to stand in his way. In one flowing dodge, he'd cut off one soldier's hand while he swung out before ducking under the next blow to flank the other soldier, delivering a spine breaking slash across his back.

Nearing Beric, the Witcher drew out his weighted chain, spinning it rapidly with one hand before flinging it out at one of the soldiers. The man was just about to attack, yet soon found his arms bound up to his sides as the chain coiled around him.

"What the- GAHHH!"

One powerful yank and the man was pulled backwards off his feet, landing roughly onto his back. Before he could even struggle to get up, he'd get his nose broken with a strong stomp by Geralt's armored heel. The surprise attack gave Beric a chance to react as he'd swing both blades wide, catching one soldier off guard with slash across his chest while the other barely guarded himself. The other remaining soldier faced off against Geralt, fear hinting his face as Geralt whipped that chain loose from the unconscious man on the ground, holding the chain at his side with his sword forward. "Still want to do this?' He coldly threatened the man, though his attention focused to the other end of the docks.

A group of four soldiers had gone around the far end of the dock to block the way to Davos ship. Barristan had handed Eddard to his daughters while he drew his sword and a dagger, ready to face the men. He spoke something out, no doubt a warning though the men ignored it. Without pause, Barristan lunged in, dagger swinging out to parry one blade back before he'd turn about to avoid a jabbing spear which he snapped in half with his longsword.

The fight did distract Geralt for the soldier facing him to attack, yet the Witcher casually blocked his slash and kicked him back before whipping he chain at his arm, sharply cracking over the limb and disarming the man. Before he could draw a dagger, he'd get punched across the face with thin chain coiled over the Witcher's fist, knocking him out instantly.

Meanwhile for Barristan, two of the men moved to try and flank him, yet one got a sword hilt slammed into the side of the head, stunning him for a powerful kick that knocked him off the dock and into the water. The guard behind him tried to stab out, yet even with his back turned Barristan deflected the attack with his dagger, twisting the small weapon about to suddenly disarm the man. A knee to the gut had him staggered and soon pushed off the edge as well. The remaining two men paled seeing the old knight's chilling gaze, making him drop their weapons and run as he knew Barristan's famed skill was no joke.

Beric at this point finished his own opponent with a swift stab with both blades after breaking the soldier's guard. Geralt hurried over to him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder before Beric nodded. "I'm alright…just need a moment."

Barristan relaxed as he'd lower his sword and sheath his dagger before turning back to Eddard and his daughters. Geralt moved with Beric following close behind, though the Witcher noticed a surprise look cross the old knight's face while Ned gave out a pained gasp and shake under the support of his daughters. Sansa gave a terrible scream as her father slumped forward, revealing the arrow deep in his chest.

"Father no! Not now…not now!" Arya was pleading, trying to hold him up. Barristan was quick to support her father up as the girl's struggled, looking to at the Witcher and Beric with a serious look.

"He's still alive! Help me get him to the ship now!"

Berci was quick to hurry over, Geralt hanged back as he'd quickly glanced around to see where the arrow could have come from. His sharp eyes noticed a dark hooded figure armed with a black bow stand up from a warehouse roof a far distance away. Only his enchanted eyesight to have seen the shadowy assassin. Whoever they were must have noticed him or thought his job finished as they slipped out of sight on the far side of the roof.

"Damn it…it's happening all over again…" He muttered, turning to Eddard who was wheezing for air, still holding onto life as he was carried off to the ship. Beric and Barristan handed Ned off to the crewmen who carry him away to safety before the old knight hurried back to the daughters. Sansa was crying and sobbing, while Arya was biting back tears as both were hurried onto the ship by Barristan. Geralt glanced down the docks, seeing the rest of the Loyalists heading towards the ship. Thoros, Syrio along with a mix of wounded Stark and Beric soldiers. They had pushed the soldiers back for now but only have minutes before they regrouped.

There was no time for words as they'd get onto the ship which already creaked as it began to move away, dropping the gangplank behind them. Geralt glanced out at the docks, watching as the soldiers were gathering up what archers they had to take shots at them, with the ship already drifting out of reach. They had escaped…yet at a high cost.

"What happened?" Davos' voice snapped Geralt to attention, seeing the old sailor look to him with a confused look.

"Later…I need to see Eddard." The Witcher muttered, sheathing his bloodied blade at last.

"He's in my quarters. Geralt I-"

"Later. We'll talk later." Without a word, he'd march pass him and the others before they had a chance to speak. While chaos of their escape was over, there was still work to be done.

…

Geralt entered the captain's cabin, which was split into two separate rooms, an office for meeting with the crew and a bedroom for Davos to sleep in. Glancing at the floor he could see a trail of blood leading to the doorway of the bedroom, showing just how deep that arrow had sunk in. When he entered the next room, all the crewmen there turned to look at him, worried looks on their faces.

"Witcher…it's…it's not good." One of the sailors mentioned. "Seen my shares of injuries. Whatever that arrow is…it's not normal."

The Witcher was silent as he stepped closer to the bed bolted to the back center of the room, his attention set on Eddard laying in bed. His dirtied vest and shirt had been cut off him to reveal the extent of his injuries, bruises from beatings and of course the arrow still stunk within him. Just examining the puncture wound showed scrapping around the edges of it.

"Serrated and barbed arrow tip."

"Aye. Such weapons have been outlawed for their vicious injuries. Can't simply pull the arrow out without shredding his insides up. You'd need to cut it out…which is out of the question here. Only Maester with mastered medical skills to even have a chance."

"I know." Geralt moved closer, gripping the arrow shaft as he carefully snapped it off, drawing a pained low grunt from Eddard. The man's eyes opened to gaze up at the Witcher.

"Sansa…Arya…"

"They're safe, but shaken after all that has happened." The Witcher answered back calmly. "Just try not to talk. Arrow is in deep and I-"

"I…know…" Eddard's face twisted, a wheezing gasp escaping him before he'd cough, blood hinting his own spit. It was obvious by the look on his face that he knew this wasn't an injury he'd likely survive.

"Don't give me that look Ned. We've beaten the odds already, not letting this be the end of it." Looking to the sailors, he'd speak to them. "Get me Davos and Barristan. I need to talk to them as soon as possible."

The men gave sort ayes and yeses before they filed out of the room. Geralt sighed as he'd shrug his swords off his back along with his weapon belt. At that point exhaustion was creeping over him, the effects of over using his Signs taking their toll. Looking back at Eddard, the man was resting, breaths shallow as he was struggling to breath. He knew Eddard's didn't have a chance with a punctured lung, an injury that would kill him within the hour at the least. If he had all the rights tools and an experienced doctor like Shani he'd put some chance of survival, yet that wasn't possible.

"May not be able to save you, but I can ease the pain." Going to his pack, he'd pick out a few pain numbing herbs and quick work on mashing them up before mixing it with alcohol. It was a crude mix, yet enough to dull the pain for what time Eddard had left. Carefully tipping the drink to Ned, he'd gulp it down with some effort before grunting as the harsh taste kicked in.

"Ugh…foul stuff." He muttered, notably relaxing more as the drink settled in.

"You got an arrow in the chest and you complain about that?"

Ned only smirked weakly, trying to show some humor despite the grim situation before it faded as the door opened to have Barristan and Davos walk in. Both men had serious looks on their faces as they'd look to Eddard and then to the Witcher.

"I shouldn't have left my guard down." The old knight muttered as he'd walk closer to the bed, fists clenched tightly.

"There was nothing you or Geralt could do. No one could have expected this to happen, not when we were this close to escaping." Davos argued.

"Question is who planned this." Geralt muttered. "Plenty of people want Eddard dead…already have some theories who…though not sure why this way."

"Won't get any answers outside of King's Landing…" Barristan added before Davos spoke up.

"Nothing went as planned today. Despite what happened, we still saved Lord Stark's daughters and that victory for our side."

Geralt and Barristan were silent, unable to deny they had overcome some impossible challenges of late. Both though turned their gazes to Ned though as he gave a low breath.

"Enough of this…I understand your anger…but Davos is right. Save it…for later." He'd take a long pause before speaking again. "My daughters. I want…to speak to them one last time."

Davos gave a short nod. "I'll go get them from the guest quarters." He'd quickly turn to leave the room. Both Barristan and Geralt moved chairs from the other room over, setting them around the bed. Once they were all set, both men took a seat on one side of the bed. Looking across at the old knight, the Witcher gave a tired sigh.

"Shouldn't have played out like this." He muttered, hands brushing across his scruffy chin as he thought of the last stressful hours.

"Fate works in cruel ways. You and I have lived long enough to understand that." Barristan answered back calmly.

Geralt couldn't deny the truth of those words, since he had seen many times the just and innocent suffer while the evil and greedy succeeded. Often such people would fall, often after much suffering had happened before hand. Still he'd silently nod in agreement.

Moments later, the door opened again as Sansa and Arya hurrying in with Davos behind them. The two girls hurried beside the bed, each one holding one of their father's hands. Both the girls were teared eyed, though Sansa seemed moments from crying out while Arya kept them back.

"Father…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snuck out to see you."

Ned gripped Arya's hand tightly, looking to her with a steady gaze. "It's fine Arya. It's fine. I'm sorry…all of this happened."

"You'll be fine right? I mean…Geralt can fix you right?" Sansa questioned, glancing over to the Witcher with a pleading look, though it saddened seeing the look on his face. "Please, you can't die…not after all this!" She'd start to sob, bowing her head as tears trailed down her face.

"Sansa…don't cry…now isn't the time for tears."

The young girl struggled to keep back her sobs, yet she'd calm herself after a long moment. She'd nod, though her body trembled trying to stay composed.

"Right now, I'm happy…to know both of you our safe. I should have sent you home soon…keep you from being caught up in all of this." He'd have a fit of coughs, interrupting him as he'd struggle to catch his breath. "I didn't expect to live today…deep down I felt it…no matter the outcome." His eyes closed, relaxing for a moment before finishing. "If my life is the price…for your safety…then I accept it."

"Its not fair though!" Arya argued out. "You shouldn't die���it should be that Joffrey or…that witch Cersei!"

Ned just shook his head, understanding his youngest daughter's rage. "I know you hate them…many would. Yet keep those thoughts aside…don't let them blind you…to reason." He'd grip both of their hands tightly. "I love both of you…words I should have said far more often. Both of you are strong…in you own ways…strengths you'll need to look to in…the coming days."

"What strength? What do you mean?" Sansa questioned, doubtful about what she heard.

"You'll know…in time." Ned muttered, wheezing a weak breath as it was becoming harder to speak. "Promise me…both of you will protect each other. Put your differences…aside…support one of other…"

Both girls looked to each other, unsure looks hinting their eyes. However, both nodded as they'd look back at their father. "We promise." They both said at the same time.

A small smile crossed Eddard face. "Its nice…to hear you both agree for once. I'm proud." For a moment he'd blink his eyes, the man trying to hold back tears. "Now both of you…should go. Don't forget what I've told you…never forget it."

"Please…we can't leave you now!"

"You two have seen enough death today…I don't want your last memory of me to be this…" He'd take a deep breath. "Go…please. I have final matters to settle."

The two were hesitant, both seeming on edge to argue and plead, yet the warily look of their father had them be silent. Sansa nodded, leaning in to hug her father around his neck before kissing his cheek and whispering parting words before standing up, hurrying away out of the room. Arya hugged and kissed her father as well, yet was more hesitant leaving as she'd glance over to Geralt. The Witcher nodded to her, knowing very well the young girl would need guidance over this family loss. Once she left Geralt and Barristan approached Eddard's bed.

"Paper and quill…"

"Have some in my office." Davos remarked as he'd hurry to his office, getting a writing board, parchment and quill with ink. Already was having a sense of déjà vu for the Witcher, the scene nearly the same for the late King Robert. It was strange the two men, both divided by differing views, shared the same fates in the end. The sea captain though offered the items to Geralt, drawing a confused look from the Witcher.

"An…embarrassing problem Geralt. I'm not a literate man nor good with a quill. This is a matter better trusted to you."

It was an interesting fact to learn, yet it was understandable considering Davos humble beginnings. "Its fine. I can handle this." He'd take the writing board and sitting down in one of the chairs, giving a short nod to Ned.

"I…Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North and Hand of the King…give my final will. Robb Stark…my rightful successor will take all my titles, duties and the ancestral sword Ice…to serve the people of the Seven Kingdoms. I ask of my wife…Lady Catelyn Stark…to wisely advise him…guide him in these troubling times, along side our trusted…household." With a short fit of coughing, he'd continue. "As loyal Hand of King Robert…I maintain my claim that Lord Stannis Baratheon…is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne…and true Protector of the Realm." Again, he'd be short of breath, laying back as sweat coated his skin from the effort of speaking.

"Think it is enough Lord Stark. We'll iron out the closing formalities later." Geralt quickly pointed out. Glancing to Davos, he'd hand the board and paper to him. "Keep this safe for later. For now, you'd best be on deck and leading the crew. Lannisters may very well get organizing their own ships to give chase."

"Right. We may have a lead, but we're still fair distance from Dragonstone." Taking the board, he'd hurry for the door out, yet stop to turn back to Ned. "Lord Stark…may the Seven and Old Gods bless you…goodbye." He'd move out the open door, head turned away to hide the saddened look in his eyes.

Barristan remained for a long moment, a troubled look showing on his face. "It was an honor to serve you Lord Stark. I wish I had done more when I had a chance." He'd give a small sigh and bow his head slightly. "I should go see to the men and speak to them. Gods speed Lord Stark." With that he'd too leave, closing the door behind him.

There was a long moment of silence as Geralt stared at the doorway, before drifting his gaze to Eddard. Everything seemed settled…almost everything. There was a few questioned that nagged at the Witcher's mind, a promise he remembered being told months back on the cold peak of the Wall. "Ned. Any last things to say? Personal words for me to tell your family?"

"Aye…Bran…I only wish I could have brought justice for…what happened to him. I hope that…fate will find a way to do so. For Rickon…I wish I had been with him more…put my duties as a father first." He'd take a shallow breath.

"What of Jon?"

The name had Eddard's eyes open slightly more, some spark of energy filling him. He remained silent though.

"Right now, you had the chance to legitimize him in your final will. He may be a member of the Night's Watch, yet it would be the right thing for him."

Ned remained silent; eyes unblinking as he stared down the Witcher.

"And you promised him…you promised to tell him about his mother, the truth of it all."

Still silence, enough to frustrate even Geralt.

"Damn it Ned, just give me a reason why! He's your son as much as the others."

"Yes…but this isn't something I can simply tell you."

"Why? Anyone else I can understand, but you know I don't favor any ambition for power or gain. I know there is more to Jon then you let on, that is certain."

Eddard clenched his teeth tight, a painful look showing on his face. "It was a matter meant for him to hear…only him. I cannot say…"

"Because of honor? Our sense of honor has only gotten us all into the mess we're in! Honor isn't going to mean anything for you in the next few minutes."

"It is my choice Geralt. I swore to protect Jon…and dying will ensure that." Again, he'd have a strong fit of coughs and gasps, worse than ever before. Blood was now being coughed up more thickly, showing how bad the internal bleeding was now.

"No! Don't you dare die on me now Ned!" Geralt grasped one hand to steady the Lord's struggling, the man going into shock as his body was giving out. "You owe Jon an answer!"

Eddard's gaze met the Witcher's for a pained moment, look of true sadness and pain showing. It was an old pain though, one that had festered for decades and one that no one, not even Geralt had sensed. Whatever the truth about Jon was something much bigger and more dangerous then he thought.

"Not…the father…"

Anyone else wouldn't have heard these muttered words, but the Witcher's ears did as the slipped from Ned's lips.

"Not the father…"

Again, the words were muttered as Eddard slumped back, eyes closing as his wound and exhaustion was too great. Geralt felt the man's heart slow and flutter under his palm until it at last came to a stop. "Not the father…not Jon's father? Then who?" He'd step away from Eddard before tugging a sheet over the man, feeling right now conflicted over the last minutes spent with him. Instead of answers he had been given more questions. "Why Ned…what made you so stubborn about Jon?"

He'd gaze back at the bed for a long moment before sighing, head bowing as he'd turn to leave. He had to inform everyone of Lord Stark passing. It was no doubt going to be a long and mournful night.

…

Hours had passed as the remaining Loyalists had settled on board, the injured resting and being treated. Thoros and Beric had been badly wounded. The two were tougher than most and no doubt recover in time. The Red Priest of course demanded half a keg for himself, feeling he needed to drink in Ned's honor. It was a request no one argued against. Syrio had been keeping to himself ever since learned of Eddard's passing, perhaps feeling some guilt over not being able to protect him. The duelist had a strange sense of honor despite only serving Lord Stark as a teacher for his daughter, perhaps just a tradition he learned in Braavos.

By now the ship was far out into the vast Blackwater Bay, nightfall having at last come. There had been no signs of any ships giving chase. Everyone however remained on guard the whole time for any surprises. Davos said it take a few days to reach Dragonstone even with full sail, hopefully they'd have a speedy journey.

With everyone busy or resting, Geralt remained on edge even with the weak feeling his body had. Having picked out a stray bottle of rum for himself, he'd find a quiet spot on the ship deck and lean against the side gazing out at the dark waves around the ship. Taking a deep drink from his bottle, he'd glance at his left hand before looking to a nearby lantern that had gone out from the wind.

Flexing his fingers for an Igni, nothing happened, so he'd try again and again. The lantern remained dark. "Nothing…either I'm that tired…or the Source is truly dead for me…"

"Oh…not quite dead yet."

Geralt glanced to his right at the familiar voice of Gaunter O'Dimm, the merchant busy tightening up some ropes at the nearby mast. The Witcher was silent, an annoyed look showing on his face as he'd take another drink.

"Go away Gaunter. Not in the mood."

The trader sighed as he'd finish with the ropes, brushing his hands together before pacing over to stand beside the Witcher. "Surprised you aren't questioning how I'm even here."

The Witcher shrugged, seeming not to care for the moment.

"I'm here simply to help Geralt. As I said before I want you to succeed in this world…to give it the change it needs for the conflicts ahead."

His cat like eyes glanced coldly to Gaunter. "So, Ned's death was required? Excuse me if I find that to be bullshit."

The merchant sighed, yet kept that small smile. "You think too simply Witcher. Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon were always doomed from the start. Their fates were decided decades past. However, you changed the fates of many this day, from the people on this ship and those cowering in King's Landing."

"Changed how exactly?"

Suddenly Gaunter's index finger jabbed at the Witcher's forehead, a sharp pain snapping through his skull. "It is better that I show you." For a moment Geralt saw the man's more horrible form, a split second much like the time at the Crossroads. His vision changed though from the ship, rapid images flashing by of people he knew from his world.

He saw Arya dirtied and alone, suffering countless hardships and trials. There was too much to take in, yet he saw moment of her being a servant for Tywin in a ruined castle, traveling with Sandor and then training within a gray unknown temple. It then showed her within a godswood, Dragonfang in hand as a pale hand was strangling her. Lastly it showed her surrounded by fire and rumble, in a city facing complete ruin.

Next was Sansa. He'd see tempting in the throne room, dress ripped while surrounded by a crowd before it changed to her standing beside Littlefinger in a strange room with a strange opening that lead to open sky. Next showed her in a bed chamber with an unknown man, a man he sensed foul cruelty from as he'd reach out to caress her trembling cheek. Lastly, the vision shifting to her standing at the walls of Winterfell, dressed grandly as a hardening young noblewoman.

More visions followed as it showed Geralt's companions. He'd see Thoros dead from a mauling, laying on a rocky island on a frozen lake surrounding by the clawing dead.

Syrio laid dead in the training hall, Trant looming over the slain duelist with a bloodied blade.

Barristan laid dead in some shadowed alley, surrounding by a dozen corpses of masked men with knives.

Beric appeared as a scarred man, having seemingly doubled in age, wearing crude leather eyepatch over one eye. It then shift to show his bleeding body laying in a hall full of corpses, a calm expression on his face despite his wounds.

At that point the visions ended sharply, making Geralt drop down onto his hands and knees as his mind was reeling from what he saw. "So much…too much." He gasped before looking up to Gaunter, the man simply smiling down on him. "I can…barely remember it all…"

"Knowledge is a dangerous thing Geralt. To have you keep so much would be unhealth even for you." The merchant casually explained. "I can see all possible outcomes in everyone, the many futures that life offers. Yet now all their paths have changed far beyond anything I've ever seen in all my travels."

By now Geralt pulled himself onto his feet, bracing against the side of the ship. "Why does anyone else interest you? Is this just all some…play or show to you?"

Gaunter didn't answer, only giving that annoying smile of his. "All that aside Geralt, there is more pressing matters to discuss. Tonight, is a very special one after all." He'd point up into the eastward sky, drawing Geralt's attention to something he had over looked. In the starry sky was red streak, a red comet unlike anything he had ever seen before. "A new age is coming. All the pieces have fallen into place for an awakening on this stagnant world."

Geralt felt a strange feeling as he looked at the comet, sensing a strong power from it. Indeed, he'd feel his medallion rattle on it's chain, the most intense it had been since visiting the Wall. Yet this growing power wasn't solely coming from the comet, but from something far to the east. The nerves in his body had a sparking tingling going though it, the feeling much like when he mediated at a source of power. While the intensity was low at first, it was becoming stronger and stronger with each passing moment. "What…what is this?"

"This closest thing this isolated world will have to a Conjunction. The weak ember of Source is relighting at long last." Gaunter simply explained even as Geralt started to gasp out for breath, his body trembling as growing power was becoming too much for handle. "Ah yes…the sensation is a bit too intense for someone like you. Don't worry it won't kill you, though I'm curious how your body will handle this change."

By this point Geralt fell onto the deck, body shaking violently as his senses were overloading. Unlike others he could see the magical changes around him, color seemingly filling his surroundings even in the dark night and every scent in the air from the salty sea water and aged wood seemed twice as strong. His heart was beating faster as his adaptive body was trying to compensate the rush of power, making it feel like the organ was about to burst. Yet gazing up to the sky he saw something else streak through the sky like a falling star guided down into the eastward horizon.

"Ciri…"

And then everything went dark for Geralt, the last things he heard was Gaunter call out for help and the hurried steps of others nearing him.

…

Notice: Sorry for the long delay on this chapter rewrite. Been busy with work, sickness and personal matters. Also for those who don't know, Fan Raman has released their podcast episode featuring the Fury of the Melee chapter. Its fully voice acted, has sound effects and music at times, being pretty much an audiobook. So look them up on Youtube, Soundcloud or Itunes.