Chapter 1

The first thing I noticed was a high ceiling, then the hard and slightly cold bed underneath me, then the smell of soup in the air.

It took me a few seconds to realize I was lying on a bed, something I had not been expecting at all.

I bolted up in surprise, wondering, how did I get here.

Apparently, I had found myself in a cabin of sorts.

The door inside the room was wide open, and the sunlight was shining through.

Outside, all I could see or recognize was the snow, a lot of snow.

"Where am I?" I muttered quietly in confusion, but headache snapped me out of that question.

The headache soon turned into a vision.

I had died, I was but a fifteen-year-old teen with a bright future, but even the most luminous stars must meet their end.

I died on my first day of college, there was a shooting, and I was one of the victims, what an irony, I had died because I was there but if I wasn't there, but in high-school like an average teen then I would've been alive now.

After that darkness, a cold but calming Destiny.

Then there was fire; I couldn't understand what was going on, was I going to hell.

The fire spoke, "You shall be given a gift to ensure you meet your destiny child,"

Excalibur, the one from the seven deadly sins, that was my gift, then and Arthur's Pendragon body to wield the sword.

The more I saw, the more clearer it was; I had no memories of my name, family, or friends as if to make my transition to this place easier.

"I died," I muttered in shock, the vision had shown me everything, and even though it didn't show me where I was, I knew this wasn't the same earth I once knew.

I had died, but I was given another chance, but for what reason?

Shaking my troubles thoughts out, I noticed that by my right side on the night-table, there was a soup plate, covered with a wooden lid and above it meat and bread.

I could not help but stare in delight at how delicious it all looked; it made me drool at the sight as if I had never eaten before.

It felt it had been so long; my body missed it.

So I started to eat, besides whoever put the meal there wanted me to eat it.

As I ate, a shadow appeared at the door. It was an old man of about sixty years old, what little hair he had was white, his armor was made out of leather, I knew who he was.

I knew where I was now, Westeros, FUCK ME, I wanted to be a Doctor!

"Ah, young man, you are awake!" The old man approached me. "The wildings almost got you. Luckily Lord Stark happened to be around; my name is Ser Rodrick Cassel, what's your name?"

I wondered for a second what to answer, but being that my real name was lost to me, my best option was, "Arthur Pendragon,"

The old knight seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Never heard of house Pendragon, are you perhaps from Essos or from smallfolk?"

I had two options said I came from Essos, or that I was part of the civilian population, "I'm from the north, Ser Rodrick, at least my mom was, I've been in Essos, but I decided to come to my homeland after my parents died,"

I lied, but what other option I had, the north was known to be bitchy about strangers in both books and the tv show, they would only welcome me if they thought me to be part of them.

"Your parents were merchants?" Rodrick inquired.

Time to lie even more, "My dad was, he met my mother in Winterfell and started to travel around, and here I am,"

"I see, so it's your first time in Winterfell?" Rodrick asked.

"Yes, I only know what my mother has told me about the North, that we are honorable, strong, and fierce," I knew that playing with compliments would ease the old man.

"Aye, we are," Rodrick smiled proudly.

"I can only hope to live up to those standards," I smiled, god I should've been an actor, fuck psychology.

"I have but one more question," Rodrick said, going back to his serious expression, "How did you manage to beat twelve wildings?"

"I trained since I was old enough to walk," Lies, I have never held a freaking weapon in my hands.

"I see, that sword of yours, if quite... different, and seems expensive where did you get it," Rodrick inquired, he was talking about Excalibur, that for some reason I had failed to notice until now that he had it on his hand.

"I saved an excellent blacksmith, and he gave Excalibur as a gift," I answered, wondering how the fuck they moved the sword, only the one that the sword chooses can wield it.

—-Brief Vision———————

Others can hold the sword if the sword doesn't want to separate from you, for the spirits will allow someone else to carry it but not use it.

Only you can cut with Excalibur; only you can wield its power.

Others may carry it but will never be able to use the power; others will never cut with Excalibur.

—————————————-

So that explains why the sword knew that I would lose it and decided to let someone else carry it until I could again.

"Can I have Excalibur back, please?" I inquired, nervous he would say no.

"That ain't for me to decide boy, Lord Stark will say," Rodrick answered.

"Fair enough," I nodded.

"Follow me, kid," Rodrick said, probably deciding it was time for me to speak with the Lord.

Lord Stark, the most honorable man in the seven kingdoms, he was my favorite character in the series, he had a good heart, but this remarkable qualities were the reason he died, alone and forsaken.

There is no honor in war, only winners and losers.