After living a tragedy that traumatized his mind, our protagonist after dying appears in the world of Game of Thrones as a baby, however, suffers the misfortune of almost being turned into a white walker. Join Blake as he endures the curse of the walkers while trying to save his family.
Oswin, Ygritte, and Blake came down the hill from their hut with some torches.
Bodies were lying everywhere in the tribe, both thenn men and tribesmen alike.
However, the thenn men numbered only about thirty, and the tribe had more men, so after an intense fight, they managed to kill almost all of the invaders.
Oswin, as the greatest warrior of the tribe, and the one who had killed the most thenn men in the attack, shouted orders to all those who did nothing to organize the tribe.
After such a long night, no one had the energy to fear Blake, and everyone did their part in cleaning up the tribe.
In the black axe tribe, there was no healer capable of healing wounds. The last one who had been was Blake's mother, who had died at Oswin's hands some years ago.
Many of the seriously wounded had accepted their fate of dying, and then, Blake went to ask if they wanted him to heal them.
They all hesitated, not wanting to trust their lives to a cursed child-like Blake.
"Alright, can you save me!"
A tribal warrior shouted from his position and Blake walked towards him.
His right hand had been sliced off with a single slash.
He was pale and shaking from blood loss, and looking at his face, Blake remembered that he was one of the men he had made a hut for.
"I'll try."
Blake answered the man and placed his knife to burn in the coals along with the wine.
After more than a year of trading with Shadow Tower, Blake had plenty of wine in storage, he always hid some of the wine brought by Oswin so that Oswin wouldn't drink it all, and now he would put it to good use.
"AHHHH!"
The savage screamed as Blake cauterized the stump of his hand. All the savages around grimaced at the cry of pain, but Blake didn't stop there and bathed the wound with boiling wine earning another scream.
"It's stopped bleeding."
Blake looked at the wound, confirming, and the savage felt his heart ease even with the intense pain of the burned stump.
"Still one step to go."
Blake, under the savage's gaze, touched the stump with his hands.
The savage almost reflexively pulled his arm away at the cooling sensation he felt from the stump.
After a few minutes, Blake pulled his hands away and everyone saw the completely sealed stump and the hard, healed skin.
The savage with the wound moved the stump and touched it a little confirming that it didn't hurt, and began to laugh.
"Thanks, kid, you saved my life, I owe you a favor!"
He quickly hugged Blake, surprising him, as he thanked him for saving his life.
"Look, the boy cured my hand, don't be cowards and try it too!"
The savage began to move his closed stump and shouted to everyone around him.
He was still pale and could not gather strength in his legs to get up, but he shouted so loudly that everyone heard him.
The braver savages began to call Blake from their positions to treat them, and after a while, even the more cowardly ones did too. No one wanted to die after all.
Most of the wounded had only cuts and stab wounds. Blake did the same with all of them, he wasn't a doctor to recognize internal bleeding or major problems. And so there were two savages he didn't quite know how to deal with.
The first was a young savage of about fifteen. He had no cut, but thenn's men had bent one of his knees backward when they stepped on his leg.
The other was a slightly older savage, half a head shorter than Oswin, and his black beard was full of gray hair. He was holding his abdomen where a thenn man had cut him, and when Blake tried to pull the savage's hand away to see the wound, his guts nearly fell out of his belly.
Blake first attended to the boy.
Giving him a good swig of wine, placing a piece of leather in his mouth for him to bite, and calling for help from other savages of the tribe he prepared to put his knee as it should be.
Blake placed his hands on the boy's knee, hoping that the coldness exuding from them would numb the flesh to what he was about to do. Then he called for help from one of Wymond's sons to forcefully bend the leg into position.
"MMMMMMMHHHHHHNNNNNNNFFFF!!!"
The young savage bit down on the leather making a muffled scream as tears spilled from his eyes.
"Well done Dean, bring me that piece of wood."
Blake thanked Wymond's son for helping him and quickly made a sling out of wood and strips of fur to keep the knee straight.
His magic had worked as the knee had not swollen and seemed to be fine.
"Well done boy!"
"Yes, take this, you deserve it!"
Some savages of the tribe who saw the proceedings laughed and slapped the young savage's back giving him milk to drink and relax.
Blake stood up at the sight of everyone and walked in front of the last savage standing there looking at him.
"What's the matter boy, can't you heal me too?"
The savage spoke in a hoarse, pained voice. Even as cold as it was, beads of sweat trickled down his forehead.
"I can close the wound, but I don't know if it will heal, Your guts are coming out, and if you got a cut there, you might rot from the inside in no time."
The savage gritted his teeth and winced.
"All right, close up, if I'm going to die I don't want it to be holding my own guts, and give me some of that wine too."
"It's all yours, Cam."
Blake nodded and placed a skinful of wine over the cold blue lips of the savage identified as Cam, urging him to drink.
The old warrior drank it all gaining a bit of a flush over his cheeks from the alcohol.
Blake enlisted the help of Dean, Wymond's son, to pull the skin, so Cam's guts wouldn't come out, then cauterize the wound with his knife and burning wine.
"AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!"
Cam's scream was long and drawn out. By the time Blake pulled the knife away, he had no more energy to scream and could only cough.
Blake quickly put his hands on Cam's stomach and Cam stopped coughing after a few minutes.
"Tell me when it stops hurting."
"It's okay, I don't feel anything anymore."
Blake didn't rush to remove his hands, and after about ten minutes, Cam spoke.
The wound on Cam's stomach was completely sealed, where once there had been a long gash only darkened, hard skin was visible.
"Dean, help him to his cabin."
Blake commended Dean and he agreed by taking one of Cam's hands and helping him up to go to his cabin.
The tribe members looked at Blake for the first time with new eyes. This was not the first time he had helped them, he had also given food, made clothes, and built houses. This last stroke of Blake healing them was enough for them to accept him into their hearts as a member of the tribe.