Visions

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 honour. It was a request no one argued against. Syrio had been keeping to himself ever since learned of Eddard'a condition, 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 takes a few days to reach Dragonstone even with full sail, hopefully, they'd have a speedy journey.

With everyone busy or resting, Jason 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.

"Oh…not quite dead yet."

Jason glanced to his right at the familiar voice of Kit, the Archer busy tightening up some ropes at the nearby mast. The Surgebinder was silent, an annoyed look showing on his face as he'd take another drink.

"Go away. 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 Surgebinder. "Surprised you aren't questioning how I'm even here."

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

"I'm here simply to help Jason. 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 this state? Excuse me if I find that to be bullshit."

The merchant sighed, yet kept that small smile. "You think too simply Surgebinder. 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 Kit's index finger jabbed at the Surgebinder's forehead, a sharp pain snapping through his skull. "It is better that I show you." For a moment Jason 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 the moment of her being a servant for Tywin in a ruined castle, travelling 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 leads 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 Jason'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, surrounded by a dozen corpses of masked men with knives.

Beric appeared as a scarred man, having seemingly doubled in age, wearing a crude leather eyepatch over one eye. It then shifts 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 Jason 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 Kit, the man simply smiling down on him. "I can…barely remember it all…"

"Knowledge is a dangerous thing, Jason. To have you keep so much would be unhealthy even for you." The Mistborn 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 Jason 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?"

Kit didn't answer, only giving that annoying smile of his. "All that aside Jason, there are more pressing matters to discuss. Tonight is a very special one after all." He'd point up into the eastward sky, drawing Jason's attention to something he had overlooked. 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."

Jason felt a strange feeling as he looked at the comet, sensing a strong power from it. Indeed, he'd feel his stormlight, 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 through it, the feeling much like when he mediated at a source of the Godswood. 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 Salvation. The return of Gods." Kit simply explained even as Jason started to gasp out for breath, his body trembling as growing power was becoming too much for the 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. You being radiant with the power to produce stormlight."

By this point Jason fell onto the deck, body shaking violently as his senses were overloading. Unlike others he could see the magical changes around him, colour seemingly filling his surroundings even in the night and every scent in the air from the salty seawater and aged wood seemed twice as strong. His heart was beating faster as his adaptive body was trying to compensate for 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. A name ranged in his mind. A name he hadn't heard before.

"Ciri…"

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