Remincing about the past.

I still remember the day Brandon and I fortified Winterfell with magic. Ah, Brandon the Builder, the man, the myth, the legend.

He was a genius with stone and mortar, but the guy couldn't build a straight wall without tripping over his own feet. One time, we were setting the foundation, and he nearly flattened himself with a falling block.

"Bob," I said, "maybe leave the heavy lifting to someone with less of a death wish?" He laughed it off, of course, and then went on to design the wall that would protect the North for thousands of years.

"Set the conditions," I told him. "If dragons come up here north or wildfire is used to burn a Stark, wake me up." I thought it was foolproof. Who would be crazy enough to use wildfire on a Stark?

Apparently, the Targaryen's fucking stupid sister fucking dickheads I knew I should have killed the valriyans when they were still fucking goats 🐐.

The last time I was awake, the Dance of the Dragons was in full swing. Dragons everywhere, tearing each other apart.

It was a bloodbath.

I still remember the screams, the smell of burning flesh, and the sight of dragons falling from the sky like fiery meteors.

It took everything in me to quell the chaos, to bring an end to the madness.

I nearly wiped out the entire dragon species back then. When it was over, I thought my job was done. I went back to sleep, hoping never to be disturbed again.

But here we are. Some things never change. Targaryen's and their damn wannabe dragon tendencies are causing trouble. And now, they've burned my friends kin with wildfire, breaking the ancient peace. They've awakened something they shouldn't have.

As I walked through the crypts of Winterfell, memories flooded back.

I remembered the old feasts in the Great Hall, the laughter, the songs. I remembered the training yard, where young Starks learned the art of war.

The crypts, where we laid our dead to rest, believing they would sleep peacefully for eternity. And now, here I am, a relic from the past, brought back to protect the future.

But this time, it felt different. The world had changed, and so had I.

The fury inside me was colder, sharper. The Targaryen's had crossed a line, and they would pay dearly.

As I prepared to march to the Riverlands, I felt a strange sense of excitement. It had been too long since I'd wielded Icebane, too long since I'd felt the rush of battle.

I remembered the last time I had awoken and was lost in that thought 💭.