Chapter Seventy Eight: Prospects And Requirements

The return trip south to the Wall had been a long and arduous one. More so than the initial trip north because unlike then, they had to escort a grumbling elderly wildling and his wives and daughters south against their will. Thankfully, they made it back to Castle Black without incurring any further loss of life.

Once they reached the Wall, the journeying was over for Uncle Benjen, Craster, and the rest of the Night's Watchmen and the Free Folk. For Bran Stark, however, the journey was only halfway complete.

Although Bran was tired when he reached Castle Black, he only allowed himself an hour's respite before he set out again. The only reason he even stayed that long was so he could ensure Uncle Benjen dispatched a message to Moat Cailin, telling them of his impending visit. After the raven went south, Bran soon followed after it. He was accompanied by Meera, Jojen, Summer, Summer's father, Father's seventeen remaining guards, and Thoros of Myr, the only Legionnaire who had survived the Fist of the First Men. And, of course, their prisoner.

Bran was determined to reach Moat Cailin as soon as humanly possible. He would have been willing to skip meals and sleep if it meant getting there faster. Had he been travelling alone or with just the direwolves, he might have done just that. Alas, his human companions insisted on stopping periodically to eat or rest, and he could not deny them either. As tempted as Bran was to leave them behind, he knew he could not afford to. He needed them to help him transport Hodor to Moat Cailin.

Even so, Bran did not permit any unnecessary stops. Nor did he linger any longer than what was required. He allotted one hour for meals and no more than five for sleeping. Anyone who could not comply with that arrangement would be left behind. He did not even care if there was a blizzard. Instead of seeking shelter from the storm, they braved it.

Bran did not even stop to enter his ancestral home when he passed it. Other than his uncle, he had not spoken to any member of his family since before he began apprenticing under Bloodraven, almost nine months ago. I've missed them all terribly, but I have no time for visits.

Due to his newfound abilities as the Three-Eyed Raven, Bran was already aware that his father, sisters, and cousin were at Moat Cailin. At present, his mother and brothers were still in Winterfell. I will see them after I've spoken to Lord Gregor, he decided. A discussion with the Mountain was his top priority. Everything else would have to wait.

After riding for nearly a fortnight, Bran finally made it to Moat Cailin. He and his party had hardly encountered any other people during their venture through the North. Yet when the moat was within their view, they came upon a camp. "Large" was much too simple to describe the camp; it was massive. From the very center, the crowd went on for miles in every direction. Bran had never seen so many people in one place. Even Robb's wedding was not this packed.

Even more noteworthy than the crowd's size was its diversity. There were people of all manner of backgrounds gathered there. Not only from Westeros, but from Essos, as well

Dothraki seemed to comprise the largest percentage of the army. At a glance, around one in every three individuals had braided hair. Although they generally went around topless, the North was hardly an appropriate place for that practice. Currently, the horselords were all clad in fur coats. The climate obviously does not agree with them, but at least they are not complaining.

In addition to the largest khalasar ever, there were multiple sellsword companies throughout the camp. Those included the Windblown, the Second Sons, the Stormcrows, and what was left of the Golden Company. There were also a hundred Volantenes in service to the grandchildren of Triarch Maegyr.

As Bran drew closer to the moat, he began to see some more familiar faces and banners. There were Dornishmen, Reachmen, Ironborn, Stormlords, Crownlords, Westerlords, Ironborn, Riverlords, Valemen, and, of course, Northmen. A number of his fellow Northmen recognized Bran as he rode through the crowd. They called out to him as a show of respect. Other than a nod or a light wave, he did nothing to acknowledge them.

Finally, after traversing through that enormous camp, Bran reached the concrete wall that formed the northern border of the grounds of Moat Cailin. On a typical day, the gate in that wall would be closed. However, given all the people who had been moving between the moat and the camp lately, it was being kept open on a regular basis. Even so, it was still heavily guarded.

As Bran and his companions approached the gate, one of the guards stood in their way and demanded "Who approaches?"

"Brandon of House Stark, second son of Lord Eddard," Bran replied in his best "lordling" voice.

The guard promptly bowed his head and stated "Welcome, milord. If you are searching for your lord father, I believe he is presently in the Captains' Tower."

"I thank you for telling me this," Bran remarked, "However, my father's whereabouts are not my most immediate concern. Do you know where I might find Lord Gregor Clegane at this hour?"

"Alas, I do not," the guard admitted, "Lord Gregor's schedule is usually quite inconsistent. Of late, even more so. My apologies for not being of use."

"It is no bother," Bran muttered. I'll just locate him myself. He relaxed in his saddle and opened his third eye. After taking a moment to search his surroundings, he found what he was looking for. His mind returned to his body, and he told the gate guard "If you will excuse me, ser, I will be on my way."

"Of course, milord," the guard acknowledged, stepping aside for the second son of Winterfell.

Bran Stark swiftly entered the grounds of Moat Cailin. The moat was bustling with just as much activity as the camp to its immediate north.

Meera brought her horse up next to Bran's, and she asked him "Where are we going?"

"The Meeting Tower," Bran answered her. That was where he had found Lord Gregor with his third eye. At present, the Mountain was in a meeting with the secret council. Kinvara and Mollander were in attendance, as well. Fortunately, the meeting appeared to be reaching its end. I must hasten there before they disband.

Thoros of Myr escorted Bran and the others to the Meeting Tower, as he was the one most familiar with Moat Cailin's layout. Even without the red priest, Bran could have gotten there without having to ask anyone for directions. One of the many advantages of being the Three-Eyed Raven; I can never get lost now. That was how he managed to join up with Uncle Benjen and the other survivors from the Fist.

When they got to the Meeting Tower, Bran gave the order to dismount. Almost everyone was able to do this without assistance. However, it took the combined efforts of Alyn, Hayhead, and Quent to pull Hodor down from the sturdy black destrier that had carried him from Castle Black to the moat.

Hodor had irons on his wrists and ankles, and a sack was pulled over his head. The bag had only been removed to give him food, and after they left the Wall, he had only been fed once a day. Starving him might make him less defiant and more willing to cooperate, Bran supposed.

Hodor had barely spoken at all since his first encounter with Summer's father. For some reason, he had gone back to saying nothing but "Hodor." As such, Bran was the only living person who had ever seen the stableboy speak anything other than his name in the last twenty years. But that does not matter. Even if he has everyone else fooled, I know he is merely putting on some mummer's farce.

Bran went inside the Meeting Tower, followed by the wolves, his friends, his allies, and Hodor. They made their way to the building's main conference chamber. By the time they got there, the secret council's meeting had ended. Luckily, the council members had not left yet.

A few seconds later, the door to the chamber opened, and the council members started to file out. Bran identified Ser Lothor Brune, Ser Danwell Frey, Lord Willas Tyrell, Harren Botley, Prince Oberyn Martell, Ser Wendel Manderly, Tormund Giantsbane, Eddison Tollett, Ser Gerion Lannister, Allard Seaworth, and Lady Dacey Clegane. They exited the chamber in that order.

The novice from the Citadel known as Mollander and the red priestess who called herself "Melisandre" were the next to step out. As always, Lord Gregor Clegane was the last to leave. That was when Bran came forward.

"Lord Gregor!" the wolf boy exclaimed, hastily moving towards the tallest man there.

The Mountain turned when he heard his name. When he saw who had called him, he grinned and said "Ah, Lord Bran Stark. We have been expecting you."

Good. When Bran reached the Lord of Moat Cailin, he folded his arms and stated, "Then I assume you know why I'm here."

"You seek an audience with myself, Lady Melisandre, and Mollander," Lord Gregor said bluntly.

"That is correct," Bran affirmed, "I must speak with the three of you at once. This is not a request."

He spoke in a tone with as much steadfastness as a boy of ten namedays could muster. I pray that will be enough to earn his compliance. All Bran could really do at this time was issue a demand. He knew there was no way he would come off as daunting or tough to someone as strong and influential as Gregor Clegane. Aside from that, Lord Gregor was King Robert's Master of Order. As long as he held that title, no one outside of the Royal Family would ever dare to cross him or make an enemy of him without shouldering a great deal of risk.

Be that as it may, Moat Cailin was a part of the North, and the northern branch of House Clegane was a vassal of House Stark. In matters outside of peacekeeping, Lord Gregor's family was still subject to Bran's. If need be, Bran was willing to exercise his status as a son of Stark to force Lord Gregor into heeding his demands.

Fortunately, it did not appear that would be necessary. Just a few seconds later, Lord Gregor nodded and said "As you wish, my lord. As it happens, I have no other urgent business to attend to at this moment."

"Neither do I," said "Melisandre."

"Nor I," said Mollander,"So, shall we relocate to the Lord's Tower?"

"Perhaps we should," the Red Woman commented, "The Mountain's solar is usually more secure and comfortable."

"In there will suffice," Bran Stark asserted, gesturing to the open door of the conference chamber. I have no intention of delaying this talk for even a single minute more. Besides, after spending most of the last fortnight in a saddle, climbing the tallest tower in Moat Cailin is the last thing I want to do right now.

"Very well," Gregor Clegane conceded. He gazed around at the people who had just left the conference chamber, and he announced, "Melisandre, Mollander, head back inside. Everyone else, you are dismissed for the rest of the day."

Lady Dacey Clegane and the other ten men on the secret council proceeded to depart from the area. At the same time, the red priestess and the novice from the Citadel reentered the conference chamber. As Lord Gregor prepared to follow them inside, he gestured for Bran to do the same.

The wolf boy turned to Meera, Jojen, and the Stark guards, and he told them "Stay out here. Keep a close eye on him."

They all knew he was referring to Hodor. Bran suspected he would have need of the treacherous stableboy fairly soon. Before he got that far, however, he would have to carefully address a certain subject related to Hodor, and he would have to bring that up all on his own. At any rate, the Reeds and the guards agreed to remain without until he summoned them.

After Bran entered the conference chamber, Lord Gregor went in right after him. He then closed and locked the door, and he held his arm out to the large table in the center of the room, saying "Take any seat you'd like, my lord."

While there were over a dozen chairs to choose from, Bran simply picked the one closest to him. After sitting down, he impatiently waited for the three adults to take their own seats. Once they were all settled, Lord Gregor turned to Bran and uttered inquiringly "Now, my lord… what can we do for you?"

Bran gave a very straightforward response: "Let us discuss the source."

"Certainly," the Mountain remarked. His tone was very frank.

"We anticipated that that was at least one of the reasons for your visit, my lord," "Melisandre" claimed.

"Indeed," Mollander debated, "What other reason would you have for speaking to the three of us alone?"

Bran was not surprised by how candid the three of them were being. As far as I know, the source is the only thing the three of them have in common. They must have known that I realized that, and thus, they expected it to be a chief topic of this meeting.

"So, what would you like to discuss?" Lord Gregor queried.

"I wish to discuss the source itself," Bran proclaimed, looking around the table, "Are you aware that for the last several months, I have been north of the Wall?"

"Yes, we're aware," Mollander claimed, "Your uncle mentioned it in his missive."

Even if he hadn't, you would have been aware, anyway. "Do you know what I was doing up there?"

"You were studying under the Three-Eyed Raven," "Melisandre" responded.

"Correct," Bran murmured, "However, that is not yet common knowledge. I suppose you three know of it because of the source?"

"That is right," Gregor Clegane confirmed, leaning back in his chair, "We also know that now that you have returned to the Seven Kingdoms, you have effectively succeeded Bloodraven. As a result, you can see everything now."

"It is as you say," stated Bran, "Everything that ever is or was, it is now within my sight. I know Lord Gregor made my aunt disappear from the world and then gave her a new identity so that she could start over in it. I know Mollander has been helping a female acolyte infiltrate the Citadel whilst keeping her own identity a secret. I know Lady Melisandre is using someone else's face to cover up her real identity. Is that not right, Kinvara?"

When he said that, he glared over at the sole female in the room. If she or her male colleagues were astonished by Bran's words, none of them showed it. The Red Woman nonchalantly brought her right hand up to the pendant around her throat and pressed down on the ruby. In response, her appearance began to change. Her hair grew slightly shorter and darker, her face became younger and less wrinkled, and she gained a few inches in height.

"Very good, my boy," Kinvara muttered, once her true façade was revealed. It sounded like praise, but she may have meant it as mockery.

"That is impressive, lad," Mollander claimed, "However, you are not the only one who knows of those private facts. At least one other person outside this room is aware of each of them. As it happens, none of those people even have the source."

"I know that, too," Bran professed, "However, that is not the point I am trying to make."

"Then, with all due respect, what is your point?" Lord Gregor enquired. He seems disinterested, Bran noted.

Even so, he provided an answer. He explained "At some point in your lives, all three of you have been an accomplice to making someone pretend to be someone else. Unbeknownst to everybody else, you yourselves have been pretending, as well. In point of fact, you are pretending to be someone else just by being alive."

That statement seemed to perplex the three adults. Kinvara said inquisitively "What do you mean?"

Bran gravely pronounced "What I mean is that while the three of you may have been born into this world, you are not native to it. Instead, you are native to a universe where Westeros, Essos, and the rest of the Known World only exist as a story told in many forms."

Bran paused here and waited for a response to that statement. He got none. All three of them were rendered speechless. I seem to have backed them into a corner. He folded his arms and murmured "Since you are not even bothering to argue against that accusation, I have all the proof I need to confirm that it is true. Therefore, I propose that we end this charade. Once we've done that, we can focus on truly important matters."

Bran was trying not to come off as smug or haughty. He hated it when his elders talked down to him like that. He was certain that grownups were even less content when children spoke to them in such a way. I mustn't anger them. I still need their assistance, and I will not get that if they're angry with me. To ensure their cooperation, he would have to continue showing them proper respect.

"What is it you want of us, Bran?" Gregor Clegane asked. Candid, as ever.

"Honesty, my lord," the wolf boy replied, "I want the three of you to tell me the truth of who you are. The entire truth."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Kinvara proclaimed.

"Not so fast," Mollander promptly refuted, "I think we should tell him."

At that, Kinvara glared at the novice incredulously and snapped "I thought we were past this."

"No, we're only past telling our significant others," Mollander countered, "Even now, I still think we should have done that. If we had, we may have been better prepared for this."

"Or we might have landed ourselves in an even worse predicament," Kinvara debated, "Telling anyone about our world is out of the question. That's what we decided."

"No, it's what we decided back then," Lord Gregor pointed out, "As both of you may recall, we decided that by vote. I sided with you once before, Melanie. I can tell your position has not wavered since then. Nor has Roger's. But this time, the circumstances are much different. So, I'm going to have to cast my vote in his favor. I am sorry, but I believe we should come forward."

Kinvara was quiet for a minute. Then she lightly sighed and mumbled "Alright, Gregory. Far be it from me to throw this world's one truly democratic group into disarray."

Bran was fascinated. Why are they suddenly calling each other by different names? Then it occurred to him. Those must be the names they had in this other world. He already knew Hodor – or Walder, as he was once called – used to go by the name of Stephen Ward.

Lord Gregor Clegane turned towards Bran Stark, and he declared "We will tell you everything you wish to know, Bran. In turn, I would like you to answer any questions we have."

"That is fair," Bran stated. I already meant for this to be an exchange of information, not an extortion.

Lord Gregor then sat up straight and asked, "Where should we start from?"

"You can start by telling me your real names," Bran proposal.

"Gregory Welch," the Mountain revealed.

"Melanie Hamilton," the Red Woman disclosed.

"Roger Dunn," the Conclave spy proclaimed. "If you'd like, you can call us by those names. But only when no one else is around."

Bran nodded, and he asked "Did you know one another… before?"

"No," Gregory Welch replied, "The three of us all belonged to the same country, but we never met. Until recently, we were complete strangers, even in this world."

"I see," Bran muttered, "Can you tell me why or how you came to this world?"

"We cannot," Roger Dunn confessed, "Even now, that remains a mystery to us. All we can do is speculate."

"The only thing we do know is that we can never go back to our original world," Melanie Hamilton remarked, "You see, we all died there."

Just like Hodor. I mean, Stephen. He recalled that Stephen Ward claimed to have committed suicide in the other world. He wondered if these three had done the same. "May I ask how you died? Did you by any chance… take your own lives?"

The three adults seemed astounded by the suggestion.

"We most certainly did not," Roger Dunn asserted, "I will admit that at the end of my first life, I wanted to die. Nonetheless, my death was an accident. Granted, the accident was mainly due to negligence on my part."

"My death was also an accident," Melanie Hamilton pronounced, "But in my case, someone else's negligence was to blame."

"I was murdered," Gregory Welch illuminated. Bran was stunned by how bluntly he said that. "Fortunately, the person responsible for my death did not outlive me by long."

Bran was intrigued. Then they all died before their time. That made him wonder about something. He murmured enquiringly "How much time passed between your deaths in that world and your arrival in this one?"

"None," Roger informed him, "The instant after we died there, we were reborn here. Our last memories of that life were immediately followed by our first memories of this life."

"There was nothing in-between," Melanie affirmed, "No lights, no darkness, no noise, or anything."

"It could be the work of the gods," Bran thought aloud.

"That would be the most logical explanation," Gregory admitted, "After all, the only things I can think of that would be powerful enough to transport people between worlds are divine beings."

"Unless it's in the realm of science fiction," Roger contended.

Gregory rolled his eyes. He mumbled "Yes, science fiction franchises would be an exception. But this world is a fantasy one. Fantasy and science fiction have a very clear distinction."

"Which is…?" Roger beckoned him to go on.

"Fantasy keeps everything within the boundaries of human comprehension," Gregory argued, "It carefully follows its own laws. Science fiction, on the other hand, violates all laws, including its own."

Roger shrugged and remarked "Perhaps. I still don't agree with all that stuff about 'divine beings,' though. I understand that you and Melanie believed in God before all this, Gregory. But I was an atheist in my first life. Even after coming here, my beliefs have not changed."

"No one is asking you to change them, Roger," Melanie assured the novice from the Citadel.

"I know, and I am grateful for that," Roger claimed.

Bran said nothing as the three adults talked amongst themselves. He was once again intrigued by the subject of their conversation. Science fiction and fantasy? What are those? Could they be types of stories? And do the people of this other world only believe in one god? If any?

"Might we continue?" Bran interjected, trying to be patient.

"Yes, we should stay on-topic," Gregory pronounced, "However, before you present us any more questions, there is something we would like to ask you first, Bran."

"Very well, my lord," Bran agreed.

The tall man looked the wolf boy directly in the eye, and he asked him "How is it you came to know the truth of the source? Is it something you discovered as the Three-Eyed Raven?"

Bran had been expecting some questions such as those to be asked at some point. Thankfully, he had already prepared an answer. He revealed "No, it is not. My new capabilities as the Three-Eyed Raven actually had almost nothing to do with how I learned of your origins. Even Ser Brynden Rivers did not know who you three really were. All he knew was that you were somehow unique."

"Unique in what way?" Melanie queried.

"According to Ser Brynden, whenever someone with the source was born in the Known World, an anomaly appeared," Bran elaborated.

"'An anomaly?'" Roger repeated.

"That was the only term he ever used, ser," Bran disclosed, "Now that I have succeeded him, I can sense the presence of people with the source, as well. As such, I have also come to realize why Bloodraven did not provide a clearer description. People with the source give off a very different aura from other people. This aura is difficult to describe, but it makes the three of you and those like you seem quite out of place, almost as though you do not belong in the Known World."

"Well, that figures," Roger commented, "We don't belong in the Known World. We didn't ask to come here. We didn't know we would come here. Yet here we are, and because of us, Westeros is now radically different from what it would have been."

Yes, and apparently, that is mostly for the better. Bran said inquisitively "Is that for your benefit or the Seven Kingdoms'?"

"Both," Gregory replied, "We are looking out for everyone's best interests, including our own."

Stephen Ward made that same claim. Thankfully, Roger Dunn, Melanie Hamilton, and Gregory Welch appeared to have a more practical and less insane interpretation of what was best for the Known World. Aside from that, all three of them had already proven that they had no evil intentions. After all, Gregor Clegane had unified the living inhabitants of Westeros, Kinvara had brought dragons back into existence, and Mollander had acquired the means to expose and remove the corruption plaguing the Conclave.

"So, you can sense all the people who are like us?" Melanie asked rhetorically.

"That is correct," Bran Stark confirmed, "However, there are a few conditions. Firstly, I cannot determine their exact whereabouts. Although I am sitting and talking with the three of you right here and now, you do not feel any different to me from ordinary people. Proximity seems to have no effect on my abilities whatsoever. Furthermore, if a person with the source remains quiet about it, I cannot even determine that individual's identity."

Roger raised an eyebrow and asked, "How so?"

"When the people with the source first appeared in the world, Ser Brynden did not know who they were," Bran expounded, "He just knew that they were somewhere out there. Their actual identities were hidden from him."

"Then how did he know about us?" Melanie enquired. "For that matter, how did you?"

"I knew because Ser Brynden told me," Bran disclosed, "He knew because you gave yourselves away."

"What do you mean by that?" Gregory queried.

Bran elaborated with "Ser Brynden said that whenever someone with the source talked about the source itself with someone who did not have it, that person's identity was revealed to him. At some point in your lives, each of you shared the source with someone else. So did Yezzan zo Qaggaz and Hizdahr zo Loraq."

That caught Melanie's interest. "Then you know about them, too?"

"Aye, my lady," Bran validated, "By the end of his life, Bloodraven had managed to identify five of the anomalies. I can locate all the ones he already identified. Although the two from Slaver's Bay have passed on, I can still sense the residue of their existences. Their impression on the world is not as strong as it was when they were alive, but it still has not faded away."

"Fascinating," Roger remarked, rubbing his chin, "Tell me something, Bran. Including us and the ones who have died, how many anomalies are out there?"

"As of now, seven," Bran responded.

"There are seven of us in total?" Melanie said in interest.

"That is correct," Bran stated, "Now, I will finally answer your earlier question."

"Which one?" Gregory muttered inquiringly.

"The one about how I know the truth of the source," Bran professed. He then got out of his chair and requested "Please excuse me for a moment."

Bran proceeded to walk over to the entrance of the chamber, unlock the door, and push it open. He poked his head out into the hallway. All the people who had accompanied him from the Wall to Moat Cailin were still gathered without.

"Is everything alright, Bran?" Jojen asked in concern.

"Everything is just fine," the wolf boy assured his friend. He looked over at the Stark guards, and he told them "Bring him in."

Father's men then forced the prisoner onto his feet, and they marched him over to the door to the conference chamber. As they roughly forced him into the chamber, Bran whistled for Summer and his father. The direwolves promptly bounded over to the second son of Ned Stark, and they followed him back into the conference chamber.

Gregory Welch, Melanie Hamilton, and Roger Dunn appeared to be surprised. He wondered if their surprise could be attributed more to the enormous man in shackles with the bag over his head or the fearsome wolf that was even more enormous. Either way, the new arrivals must have made an impact on the three of them.

At Bran's order, the guards forced their prisoner to sit down in one of the chairs next to his. Once they accomplished that, he told the men "Good work. You may go now."

The guards dipped their heads and filed out of the chamber. Once they were out, Bran shut and relocked the door.

As Bran made his way back to his chair, Gregory Welch drew everyone's attention to the only creature in the conference chamber that was even bigger than him. He inquired curiously "Who is this wolf? And why is Summer so attached to him?"

"That's his father," Bran answered both questions at once.

"Really?" Melanie remarked, looking the father direwolf over. "He's… magnificent."

"Indeed," Roger conceded, "And I thought the dragons were extraordinary."

"You speak as though you knew nothing about him," Bran noted.

"We don't," Gregory apprised him, "There was never any mention of the direwolf who sired Summer and his siblings in any version of the saga of Ice and Fire. The direwolf who birthed them was not a key figure, either. Originally, the mother was already dead by the time you, Robb, Jon, and your father found her and her pups. She was never meant to survive long enough to see them grow."

Whereas in this world, she lived to see the pups' first name day. We even gave her a name: Lyarra. It's a pity she perished during the Pentoshi Bloodbath. Had the mother direwolf survived the Bloodbath, she might have been reunited with her mate and their entire litter. Maybe she was always doomed to die, Bran supposed. Still, he knew it was no use lamenting on that loss. Or any other loss that had ever transpired. All men must die. That goes for animals, too.

"Have you given him a name yet?" Melanie asked.

"I have not," Bran confessed, "I have considered a few possible names, but I feel as though none of them would do him justice."

"What about Bigby?" Roger proposed, a bit of amusement in his voice.

Gregory and Melanie chuckled at that. The former of them commented "Good choice."

Is that meant to be a jape? Or is he being serious? Either way, Bran was not too fond of the Citadel novice's suggestion. That sounds like a name Rickon would come up with.

"We can bestow a name upon him later," Bran remarked disinterestedly, "Right now, his presence is not of the utmost importance. He is only here for protection."

"Whose protection?" asked Melanie.

"Ours," Bran replied.

"What is he protecting us from?" Roger inquired.

"Him," the wolf boy proclaimed, pointing to the huge, restrained man seated beside him. Bran then stood up in his chair and announced, "If you would, allow me to introduce you to one of the two remaining individuals from your world."

He raised his hand up to the prisoner's head, took ahold of the sack, and swiftly pulled it off.

Roger's eyes widened, Melanie gasped, and Gregory was downright flabbergasted. All three of them murmured in unison "Hodor…?"

The captive just smirked and pronounced "Hodor yourselves."

He was being strangely calm and cheeky about his current predicament. He suddenly regained his speech again, Bran observed. Apparently, he'll let me hear him speak, and he'll let them hear him speak. But no one else. I wonder what he expects to gain from this farce.

"I assume you are aware that Hodor is not his real name," Bran contended. As the other three adults nodded, he went on with "As you may know, he was born with the name 'Walder.' However, that is not the first name he was ever given, either. His true first name is Stephen Ward."

"The lad speaks the truth," Stephen admitted casually. He gazed around at the other three adults, and he cockily proposed "Might you do me the honor of telling me your names, as well?"

"Roger Dunn."

"Melanie Hamilton."

"Gregory Welch."

When the three of them shared their names with Bran earlier, they had seemed quite reluctant to do so. Now, they did not seem nearly as reluctant, but they did sound rather bitter. Additionally, their expressions of shock and alarm had changed into expressions of curiosity marred with disgust.

"Pleased to meet you," Stephen Ward stated sardonically, "And where do you lot come from?"

"Savannah."

"Cheyenne."

"Seattle."

Why are they indulging him? They're under no obligation to supply any answers. In spite of that, Bran did not interject. It was not as though that information would help Stephen Ward in any way.

Nevertheless, he was slightly puzzled by the inconsistent answers they gave to that last question. He declared "I thought you said you were all from the same country, my lord."

"We are," Gregory claimed, "Those are the names of three of our country's cities."

"Oh," Bran acknowledged, "Then pardon my interruption."

"No worries," Gregory reassured him. Melanie and Roger muttered their agreement.

Stephen gave a loud snort. He mumbled bitterly "Ah, Americans. That explains everything."

Bran was startled by this abrupt shift in his behavior. He seemed so annoyed and resentful. A huge contradiction to how laidback and indifferent he was being less than a minute ago.

"Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Roger snapped.

"Your actions speak for themselves," Stephen pronounced, "It's just like you people; interfering with the structure and development of other nations. You could not even make an exception for the Known World. It is bad enough that you had to temper with this world's timeline. But that wasn't enough for you. Oh, no; you went even further and decided to introduce things from our world. All those new inventions, languages, songs, foods… You just had to taint Westeros' culture with our own culture."

The three younger adults listened to that spiteful rant in silence. At the end of it, Melanie scoffed. "Funny you should say that. From what I've seen, the world is doing just fine, even with our influence. In fact, I would say it is doing much better."

"She's right," Roger conceded, "We haven't been tainting the Known World. We've been improving it."

"Who said it needed improvement?" Stephen countered.

"Everything and everyone could use some improvement," Gregory debated, "I know there are some people who hate even the very idea of telling a story in a way that diverges from the original version. But you are something else altogether. Can you honestly tell me that a world where bastards born of incest sit the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms are torn apart by civil war is preferable to this?"

Bran was stunned. Was that actually meant to happen? If so, I am glad it did not come to pass. The wolf boy did not know very much about what the Known World would have been like if the people with the source had not interfered, but based on what he had heard so far, it did not sound very appealing. Yet Stephen continues to defend it.

"Perhaps it is not preferable," Stephen contended, "Even so, what you've been doing is an insult to the integrity of the original story."

"And I suppose what you did was not?" Bran sharply refuted.

That remark captured the attention of the other three adults. Roger asked, "What did he do?"

"He killed Bloodraven, ser, and he attempted to hand me over to the Others," Bran disclosed.

Now the three of them were positively shocked. Melanie uttered softly "He did not…?"

"He did," Bran recounted, "Thankfully, before we could reach the Frostfangs, I was rescued by Summer's father. Before even then, however, he told me all about the source. He told me how every person with the source came here from another world. He told me how the Known World only exists as a story in that other world. He claimed the story began as a series of books, and it was later adapted into a series of theatrical performances. He also claimed to be from a country whose geography paralleled that of Westeros. I believed he called it 'England.'"

Roger raised an eyebrow and remarked "An Englishman, huh?"

Stephen nodded, grinning smugly. Melanie muttered "Well, that explains his resentment towards America."

"Was your country at war with his?" Bran inquired.

"It was once," Gregory apprised him, "Twice, actually. Despite being a relatively new nation at the time of those conflicts, America won both times. However, those conflicts took place two centuries before our lifetimes. During that time, England and America became close allies and good friends."

"Yet Stephen does not seem fond of you or your people," Bran noted.

"Sadly, he is not the only one," Melanie disclosed, "America had its fair share of enemies. One of the reasons for that is its foreign policy. Some would say we have a habit of reaching outside our domain, prying into the affairs of the rest of the world, and conforming them to our standards."

"Only because you do," Stephen spat venomously.

"So what if we do?" Roger sharply retorted, "What gives you the right to criticize us for compromising the integrity of other nations? As I recall, England was subjugating weaker, less developed countries well before America was even founded. So was every other fucking European country, for that matter."

"He's absolutely right," Gregory concurred, glaring at Stephen Ward, "So don't you dare criticize us for our own style of interference, you goddamn hypocrite. You have no room to talk, anyway. I mean, turning Bran over to the Army of the Dead? What the hell were you even thinking?"

Stephen scoffed and stated "You three should look at the bigger picture. The Night's King is not out to eradicate all life. He is out to save it. Under his leadership, this world will finally and truly be able to achieve everlasting peace. Why do you refuse to realize that?"

Melanie stared at Stephen as though he had just transformed into an actual giant. She murmured "What in god's name are you talking about? Have you lost your mind?"

"I seem to be the only one still in control of his mind," Stephen debated.

"He is under the impression that the Night's King is the hero of this world's story," Bran enlightened the younger three adults, "Somehow, he is convinced that the Night's King is out to unify humanity, not destroy it."

"What possibly led you to that conclusion?" said Roger, glaring at Stephen.

"Think about it," Stephen suggested, "Humans kill each other all the damn time. Have you ever heard of a wight or a White Walker killing another of its kind? Certainly not. Unlike us, the Others always look out for one another. The Night's King's objective is not global conquest. It's global unification."

"I can actually see how you can be led to believe that," Gregory thought aloud, "That is not to say I agree with your stance. Quite the contrary; I think it is completely insane. The Others are neither living nor dead. They are somewhere in-between. If they were to succeed in their campaign, what kind of life do you think they would be subjecting the people of the Known World to?"

"Who's to say the Others are mindless?" Stephen disputed. "It might not seem obvious, but they are intelligent beings. While they may fight like an unruly mob, they are clearly organized around a central figure. They know they cannot go over, around, or under the Wall, and they can only get past it by knocking it down. They are even capable of devising strategies to overcome that obstruction."

"Just because a creature is intelligent, that does not mean its lifestyle would be ideal," Melanie contended, "There are plenty of animals that are intelligent. Some are almost as intelligent as we are. But would you ever want to live as an animal?"

"Speaking as a warg, my lady, existing as an animal is not unpleasant," Bran commented. It can actually be quite enjoyable. "That is not to say I am siding with Stephen Ward, of course. I still much prefer my own human body."

"Well, Bran, you would be able to keep that body, even if you joined the Army of the Dead," Stephen pointed out.

"Yes, but what would become of his mind?" Gregory argued, "Intelligent or not, the Others are still essentially lawless savages. They do not care about stability or security. All they are doing is forcibly imposing their barbaric way of life upon the rest of the Known World. They are no different from a tyrannical empire."

Roger then smirked and pronounced "Luckily for us, if the real world is any indication, empires are always doomed to fail. Always. You would know that better than us, Stephen."

"What are you talking about?" Stephen Ward mumbled.

"It is true that the British Empire was once something to be reckoned with," Roger professed, "At the height of its power, it occupied more territory than any other empire in history. Then democracy became popular, and empires started to fall out of style. By the start of the 21st century… well, your countrymen couldn't even keep the Irish under control."

The date did not evade Bran's notice. The twenty-first century? That means their world is at least eighteen hundred years older than ours. Suddenly, Stephen Ward's claims about all the advanced technology in his world made a bit more sense, and they seemed a little more credible. In that much time, the Seven Kingdoms could become just as advanced.

At any rate, Stephen scowled angrily. He spat "Shut your hick mouth, Yank."

"'Yank?'" Melanie uttered in amusement. "Is that the best you can come up with? Nobody says that anymore. Or rather, nobody said that, back in our world."

Roger seemed amused, as well. Gregory, however, was not. He slammed his fist on the table to get everyone's attention. The noise was so loud that it made Summer and his father growl suspiciously. Once the Mountain had everyone's attention once more, he announced "Enough. We are not here to exchange insults like children. We are here to address and handle serious topics. If we keep straying off-topic, we'll be here all day."

"Then let us no waste any more time," Bran proposed. I narrowly escaped the clutches of the Others. The Night's Watch may have stalled them at the Fist of the First Men, but they are still marching south. The only reason Bran had even travelled to Moat Cailin was to find a way to stop the Army of the Dead permanently. He sat up in his chair, and he declared "Lord Gregory, Lady Melanie, Ser Roger, it is time we got to the heart of why I came here. I mean to save the Known World from the Others, and I will need your help to do it."

"Well, fortunately for you, Bran, we already have that same objective," Gregory pronounced, "But tell me; why do you believe the three of us can make such a difference?"

"The same reason I've kept Stephen Ward alive," Bran disclosed, "The four of you know this world better than anyone. That includes me, the new Three-Eyed Raven, and my predecessor, Ser Brynden Rivers. At first, I was reluctant to accept the possibility that I and every other person in the Known World are nothing more than characters in an epic tale. However, I have decided that even if that is true, it makes no difference when all other matters are taken into consideration. This world is still my home, and at present, my home is in grave danger. I will do everything in my power to protect it from those who would bring harm to it. Since this world is now your home, too, I imagine you would do the same. Your familiarity with this world's story would be invaluable to me, as you know how to defeat the Night's King."

Gregory Welch, Melanie Hamilton, and Roger Dunn seemed perplexed. The tallest of them said inquisitively "What led you to that assumption?"

"Since you know this world's story, you must know how it ends," Bran argued.

Gregory, Melanie, and Roger slowly gazed around at each other. They look nervous, Bran noted. How can that be? Then the cause of their discomfort dawned on him. He murmured quietly "Do you mean to tell me you do not know the ending to this world's story?"

"Alas, we do not," Gregory confessed. Roger and Melanie grimly nodded along.

"How can that be?" said Bran, almost demandingly, "Stephen Ward claims he knows how the story ends."

"He must be lying then," Roger supposed.

"Or…" Melanie began, scratching her temple. She turned toward the shackled man, and she queried "When did you die?"

Stephen was under no obligation to answer her question. Even so, he bluntly replied with "The same year the Ice and Fire saga was finally completed: 2026."

The three younger adults were intrigued. Bran was also curious, but for a different reason. He already knew this other world was in its twenty-first century by the time the people with the source died, but he did not know when exactly each of them had left it.

"When did the three of you die?" Bran inquired.

"2018," said Melanie Hamilton.

"2017," said Roger Dunn.

"2016," said Gregory Welch, "All three of us died long before the author finished the book series."

"What about Hizdahr zo Lorqaz and Yezzen zo Qaggaz?" Bran asked the sole woman in the chamber. Even if they're gone, they might have lived to see long enough in the other world to see this world's story finished. If so, perhaps they passed that knowledge on to the Red Woman.

"They died in 2016 and 2017 respectively," Melanie revealed.

Whatever hope Bran had left, it seemed to vanish at that moment. He assumed in dismay "Then none of you know how the story ended?"

"I'm afraid we do not," Roger admitted glumly.

"However, if Stephen does…" Gregory commented, turning to the prisoner. Bran did not miss the wicked grin that had spread across the Mountain's face. Just looking at that grin made him feel uneasy.

Stephen Ward, however, was unfazed. He pronounced "You're a fool if you think I would ever divulge that information. Do what you want to me. It won't change a thing. I will never talk. Never."

"You might feel that way now," Gregory contended, "But I was a federal operative in my first life. Interrogation was one of my specialties. I know plenty of ways to get suspects to speak. Some of my techniques are so unpleasant that even the Free Folk would call them uncivilized."

"Is this supposed to scare me?" Stephen sardonically retorted, "In my first life, I lived alone in the wild for twenty years. In this life, I spent just as many years pretending to be a lackwit. Do you think that kind of determination can be broken so easily?"

"Not at all," Gregory responded, "But no one's resolve is insurmountable. Every person has a breaking point. I'll just need some time to get to yours."

"For your sake, you better do that soon," Stephen taunted the slightly taller man, "Otherwise, you'll simply end up wasting your precious time with me, and you'll only learn what you want to know when we are both members of the Army of the Dead."

"Is torture even the best way to go?" Roger debated, "I mean, it isn't always an effective or reliable means of acquiring information."

"Maybe there's another way," Melanie thought aloud. She turned to the wolf boy and proposed "Bran, do you think you could warg into Stephen? Maybe you could access his memories."

"That would not work, my lady," Bran proclaimed, "I tried that several times when I was his prisoner, but I had no success. It could be possible that people with the source are immune to warging."

"That makes perfect sense," Roger stated, "Since the power of the Three-Eyed Raven interprets us as anomalies, it would follow that you could not invade our bodies or our minds. We're basically foreign entities, after all."

Bran nodded at that, and then he unleashed a heavy sigh. He muttered "Then it appears our only option is to resort to torture. I just pray we can extract some useful knowledge from Stephen Ward before it is too late. He told me I played an important role in defeating the Others. That was why he intended to give me to the Night's King in the first place. But he never told me just what I did which was so pivotal in the war against the Army of the Dead. I myself am at a loss."

"I may have a theory," Gregory Welch professed. Bran turned towards the tallest man there, and the Lord of Moat Cailin continued with "As you know, Bran, your cousin Jon is the son of your Aunt Lyanna and the late Prince Rhaegar. The Starks are descendants of the First Men, and the Targaryens are from Valyria. The First Men. There were plenty of skinchangers, greenseers, and wargs amongst the First Men. It happens that you, your cousin, and all your siblings are wargs. However, you are the only one whose abilities have awoken. Furthermore, dragons have returned to the world, and dragons are originally from Valyria, as well. That is why they follow the Targaryens as their masters. But having Targaryen heritage alone is not enough to win the dragons' obedience."

Bran quickly realized where the Mountain was headed. He assumed "Then only someone with the blood of both the First Men and Valyria could hope to fully control a dragon."

"Precisely," Gregory Welch confirmed, "That is where you come in, Bran. You will have to be Jon's guide. You must help him to awaken his abilities. Once you've done that, you must also help him improve and perfect them. The dragons are perhaps our greatest asset against the undead, and we must ensure both their loyalty and their safety. Because if the Night's King manages to kill them, he'll be able to incorporate it into the Army of the Dead."

Bran was astounded. Dragons in the Army of the Dead? Just the concept of such a thing made him feel queasy. He murmured in a restless tone "Could that truly happen?"

"It happened in the original story," Melanie apprised him, "Or one version of it, anyway."

"That's how the Others got past the Wall in that version," Roger recalled, "The Night's King slew one of the dragons in battle, revived it, and used its power to annihilate Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. After that, the Others were free to begin their invasion of the Seven Kingdoms."

"We cannot allow that to happen!" Bran exclaimed.

"As long as we take good care of the dragons, it will not," Gregory assured him, "But time is of the essence. We must prepare the dragons for the Others' arrival as soon as possible."

"In other words," Bran thought aloud, gazing at the Mountain, "you want me to start teaching Jon how to control them."

"That is correct," Gregory said with a nod.

"Then I shall do so," Bran decreed, "If you honestly believe it will aid us in our struggle against the Others, I will do everything in my power to accomplish this task, my lord."

"Very good, Bran," Gregory Welch murmured in approval, "I have every confidence you will succeed."

"Your faith in me is most appreciated, Lord Gregory," Bran Stark pronounced, "I am merely relieved that I can be of use to the Legion, and that I can still prepare the Seven Kingdoms for the horrors of the Long Night. I traveled to Moat Cailin in hopes that you, Lady Melanie, or Ser Roger would tell me how to defeat the Night's King. In light of the fact that all three of you died before this world's story could finish being told in your world, I was beginning to worry that I had come all this way for naught."

"Well, actually, Bran," Roger Dunn interjected, "Even if you were unwilling or unable to instruct your cousin Jon, your journey to Moat Cailin would not have been wasted."

"How so, ser?" the wolf boy asked in interest.

"Earlier, you mentioned that the Three-Eyed Raven has the ability to detect the presence of people with the source," Roger recounted.

"Yes, that is what I said," Bran affirmed, "I cannot determine their exact whereabouts, but I can determine their identities if they discuss the source with people who do not have it."

"Yes, I remember you saying that," Roger muttered, "You also said that there are seven of us altogether. Four are currently in this chamber, and two more died in Slaver's Bay. That brings us to a total of six."

Bran had already figured out where the Citadel notice was going with this issue. He solemnly revealed "I do not know who the seventh one is, ser."

"Damn," Roger mumbled, "Oh, well. It couldn't hurt to ask."

"I suppose not," Bran conceded, "May I ask why you are so interested in this matter?"

It was Melanie who answered this time. She claimed "For a while now, we have been trying to find others like us. Hizdahr, Yezzen, and I managed to search the whole of Essos and every other part of the Known World before they died. As of now, Westeros is the only place left where there might be more. I'm glad to know that our endeavors were ultimately not wasted."

"In fact, Bran, you may be the key to uncovering the identity of the final person from our world," Gregory pointed out, "Is there anything you can tell us about this person? Anything at all? Even the slightest tidbit of information could turn out to be a valuable clue."

"At the very least, I can assure you that the seventh one is still alive," Bran Stark professed, "Even now, I can feel that person's presence. It is not a weak presence like Hizdahr zo Loraq's or Yezzen zo Qaggaz's. If anything, this person's presence is stronger than any of yours."

"Interesting," Roger commented, "Why do you suppose that is?"

"It could be because that individual has been around the longest," Bran conjectured.

"Is that pure speculation, or a legitimate hypothesis?" Gregory inquired.

"The latter," Bran replied, "Bloodraven told me how long each person with the source has lived, as well as when each of them first appeared. The last time one of them arrived in this world was five and twenty years ago. That was when Kinvara was born."

"Then I'm the youngest person with the source?" Melanie presumed.

"Just so, my lady," Bran confirmed, "Your presence is stronger than the two who have died, but it is the weakest of the five who are still living."

"Who is the next weakest?" Gregory queried.

"Mollander," Bran explicated, looking over at Roger, "As it happens, he was the next to last to be born in this world. He was born seven and twenty years ago."

"So, each person born into this world gives off a slightly weaker presence than the one who came before?" Roger speculated.

"That appears to be the case," Bran concurred, "The next eldest was Hizdahr zo Loraq. He was born three and thirty years ago. Currently, he gives off the weakest presence overall, but it was likely stronger than either Mollander's presence or Kinvara's when he was alive. Gregor Clegane was born almost five and thirty years ago; his presence is much stronger than either of theirs. But it is not quite as strong as that of Hodor, who was born seven and thirty years ago. However, Yezzen zo Qaggaz was the oldest one I know of; he was born four and forty years ago. Now that he is dead, though, only Hizdahr zo Loraq gives off a weaker presence than he."

"Then the seventh person from our world must have been born more than forty-four years ago," Melanie debated.

"Evidently," Roger stated in agreement, "You know, that may be the very clue we need to uncover their identity. Bran, when was the first of us born?"

"I do not know the exact year," Bran confessed, "Even Ser Brynden did not know that. According to him, the oldest person with the source was already around when he became the Three-Eyed Raven."

That revelation seemed to interest all the adults, including Stephen Ward, who had been totally silent for the last several minutes.

"What year did Brynden Rivers become the Three-Eyed Raven?" Melanie asked no one in particular.

"252 A.C.," Gregory responded. I believe that is accurate. Bloodraven did disappear north of the Wall eight and forty years ago.

"Alright, then the first person from our world must have been reborn before then," Melanie contended.

"It would seem so," Gregory pronounced, "Do either of you have your lists?"

"I do," Roger proclaimed, reaching into his robes and pulling out a stack of parchment. "I always keep mine on hand, both for safekeeping and convenience."

"Lists?" Bran said inquiringly.

Again, Melanie explained with "In our search for others like us, we noticed something remarkable. Whenever someone from our world is reborn here, that person's mother suffers a miscarriage about a month before that person is conceived."

"So far, that condition has applied to all of us, including Hodor," Gregory added in, "With that in mind, Mollander thought to put together a comprehensive list of every miscarriage that has occurred in the Seven Kingdoms over the last century. We have used that list as our baseline for locating other people from our world."

"By focusing on certain other factors, we have managed to narrow the list down to less than fifty individuals," Roger proudly declared, "However, this latest development should narrow it down even further. There cannot be more than a dozen suspects who were born over fifty years ago. At this rate, we may be able to uncover the identity of the seventh person before the Others reach the Wall."

"I hope that will be so," Bran commented, "The Others remain our greatest concern. It would be best if all other threats were already neutralized by the time they move to invade us."

"What do you mean 'other threats?'" Gregory noted.

"There is one more thing you should know about my ability to detect people from your world," Bran disclosed, "As I stated previously, I sense the existence of such people by the auras they produce. If I concentrate closely enough on their auras, I can determine their true nature, and I judge it based on how an individual with such a nature would affect Westeros. For example, Gregor Clegane has by far the most benevolent nature, given all he has done to bring the Seven Kingdoms together. Whereas Hodor's nature is definitely the most malevolent, given his desire to see the Army of the Dead win this war. Kinvara and Mollander's natures are somewhere in-between, but they are much closer to Lord Gregor than to Hodor. Based on what little remains of Hizdahr zo Loraq and Yezzen zo Qaggaz's auras, their true natures were fairly neutral."

"And the seventh one?" Roger bade him to go on.

"Hostile," Bran straightforwardly announced, "Not nearly as hostile as Hodor, but more than enough to warrant our attention. Despite being around longer than any of you, this person has wisely remained quiet about the source. Whether that is due to caution or unwillingness to trust, their silence is cause for alarm. They could have been using the source to their advantage all this time without any of us realizing. I have no way of knowing this for a certainty, but it could very well be possible this person may have had a hand in some of the more recent disasters that have struck the world. Not the least of which would be the Pentoshi Bloodbath."

"If so, I am all the more motivated to uncover his identity," Roger declared.

"Or hers," Melanie added in, "We cannot assume the person's gender just yet."

"In any case, I would urge you to hurry," Bran advised the adults, "This individual may have been lurking in the shadows for the last fifty years, but he or she could still strike at any moment. They could strike just before our battle with the Others, when all our concentration is directed elsewhere. They could strike during the battle, when we would be vulnerable to attack from all sides. They could even strike after the battle, when we'd be too weak to do anything to stop them, even if we emerge victorious. If we are not careful, this person could even replace the Night's King as the cause of our undoing."

"That will never happen," Gregory Welch asserted, "Gregor Clegane will not let it happen."

"Neither will Kinvara," Melanie Hamilton conceded.

"Nor Mollander," Roger Dunn insisted.

Stephen Ward said nothing. He just sat in his chair, looking rather smug. He's hoping they'll fail. But as I know full well, hope by itself is insufficient.

Bran Stark appreciated the others' motivation. He shared it, too. He was once the second son of Winterfell. Back then, he had no obligations, responsibilities, or expectations, other than to show respect to his father and mother and fealty to his elder brother. Now he was the Three-Eyed Raven. As such, it was his duty to preserve, sustain, and defend the Known World, as well as to keep it from falling into oblivion. And I mean to do just that. I will protect this world from everything that could harm it, including those who came to it from other worlds. I will never allow invaders to destroy all I hold dear.