the Third Eye

Joffrey gasped for breath as he awoke under the body of one of the large hairy men that had attacked them. He breathed heavily as his eyes darted around looking for any other enemies; he was covered in blood that had dried upon his face covering up his pale white skin. He tried to push the dead body off himself but he was still feeling weak, he wasn't sure if he was injured or not but it felt like he had no strength left in his arms.

Regardless he still tried again, while the Joffrey of Kings Landing would've given up in the face of repeated failure. The present one had endured hard lessons that had taught him the value of not giving up; he growled as he pushed with all his might 'This is not how the king will end,' he thought to himself as he shifted the body off his own. He took a deep breath and sighed with relief as the heavyweight no longer impeded his breathing; however he was still feeling weak and he struggled to push himself to his feet, he was also still worried that there might be more enemies around despite him not seeing any.

Joffrey tripped to his knees as he threw up whatever food he had the previous night. He was not used to the smell that came with death, and at this moment he was surrounded by it —and covered in it. After he could throw up no more he pushed himself to his feet and started limping away from the pile of bodies. He looked up and immediately shut his eyes as the light from the sun blinded him, he had no idea where Jon and the others were nor did he know if the enemy was still around, but one thing he did know was that he wouldn't stay long enough to find out.

He stumbled quickly into the first tent he was close to and searched it for anything to drink. His throat was parched; his stomach grumbled with the need for food and his body felt weak 'Where did that damn bastard go,' he thought to himself as he ate from a bowl of fruit on the table. Obara had sent him to find Jon during the battle last night; he hadn't been able to as he was caught in his little skirmish where he got trapped under one of those hairy beast-like men.

Joffrey much to his surprise had changed over the time he had stayed with Jon. Apart from becoming a more competent fighter, he had been given a view of how people saw him, and it changed the way he looked at himself. Without his crown he was nothing... it was a hard truth to swallow, but he saw the truth of it when he spent time with people who did not care for his crown.

Without his crown, he was a boy not yet even a man who had no skills a man should have. He wasn't smart like his Uncle Tyrion or the best with a sword like his Uncle Jaime. He wasn't revered as a demon like his father; he wasn't sure how the people viewed him but he doubted it would be any better than his current companions. Joffrey knew he was better than those peasants, but it truly angered him that even a single peasant would be able to overpower and kill him if he was left without guards.

That self-reflection allowed Joffrey to quickly realise that abandoning his companions was not an option. If he tried to get back to the ship he would likely encounter one of the enemies that had attacked them last night, and even if he made it to the ship he couldn't sail it on his own; if he tried to hide on the ship then if Jon came back he would likely kill him for being a coward —at least that's what Joffrey thought.

'What in seven hells am I supposed to do!' He thought to himself angrily. He didn't know where his companions were, he didn't know if they were alive or dead, yet he had to choose his next course of action. Abandon them and try to escape the island or find some equipment and try and look for them.

'What would father have done...'

It didn't take a genius to figure out what his father would've done. He would've rushed out of the tent with his Warhammer in hand and fought any enemy he came across, but Joffrey didn't have his father's marshal skill; admittedly he had improved in his ability to use a sword but it wasn't to the point where he could easily overcome an opponent —he didn't even know if he could beat a single opponent— This whole experience with Jon had shaken his confidence in himself. Before he would've done as his father did and rushed out, and most likely have died due to his poor ability. But even now when he knew he had some degree of skill his fear was now larger than his pride.

"Perhaps I am a coward..." he thought to himself as he looked at his reflection in a bowl of water; his jaw looked more angular as the weeks of hard work had trimmed his baby fat. Joffrey knew he would never be like Jon and he was glad he wasn't; he was a king and he would make it back to his throne.

'I'll do it my own way,' he thought to himself as he grabbed a crossbow that was lent by a table.

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"You fools!!!" Qarlon shouted as he pushed one of his men in front of him.

"Stop standing around and kill them all!!!" He shouted desperately as he struggled to hold his sword in his hand. So many things had gone wrong in such a short time; he had expected to have found the crown by now and have it upon his head, but he was in this situation. All because of those damn filthy Ibbenese, and whoever these sellswords were.

Qarlon looked on in feet as he stared at the giant of a man armed with a warhammer slamming it into one of his men's heads making it sink into his body. It made him gag as he saw the head disappear and blood explode out of his guard's back splashing him on the face. 'It's okay I still have plenty of guards,' he thought to himself as he sent them forward to attack the large sellsword.

Gendry was in no mood for this and just wanted answers. He rolled his Warhammer in his hand before deflecting a sword to the side; he then bashed the butt of his weapon into the man's jaw sending all of his teeth spewing out across the ground. "You must answer my questions, a simple task, if you do I won't have to kill you," Gendry said in a low emotionless voice, as he whipped his fist across the air colliding it with a man's face and caving it in.

Qarlon scowled at him, his bravado hadn't entirely disappeared yet as he still had a good amount of men that outnumbered Gendry's five. "Whoever hired you for this job, you can go and crawl back to them with nothing, because that is the only thing you shall receive from me," Qarlon said as he spat on the ground in front of him. Gendry would've thought he was impressively brave if not for the fact that he could see the man's sword trembling in his hands.

"Then send another man forward, and I shall show you what fate awaits you," Gendry said as he leaned his Warhammer head down.

Qarlon looked arrogant, but his men did not. Fear was plastered over their faces as they stared down the giant in front of them; Gendry almost felt bad for them as if it was their choice they would probably not be here, but he hardened his heart. Many times in his life he had been forced to kill when he did not want to and this would just be another one of those times. A man screamed as he rushed towards Gendry swinging his sword at him in an overhand swing; Gendry caught the man by the wrist and instantly crushed it causing him to scream. He then grabbed the man by the throat and started to pull; his screaming intensified as he was forced to look back at Qarlon and the other guards. Slowly tears started to form in his skin exposing muscle and blood, and not long after that his head was ripped off entirely with his spine coming out as well.

Qarlon felt his legs start to shake terribly and he felt a warm liquid run down them. He couldn't speak, every time he tried to formulate words he just remembered the screaming of the guard as Gendry ripped his head off. "Will you tell me what information I wish to know?" Gendry asked as he wiped the blood that had splashed onto his hands off on his trousers.

Qarlon didn't reply for a moment and then instead he turned around and started running. "Seven hells!" Gendry growled out as he followed with his own men. However most of Qarlon's guards were braver than he was and they stayed behind hoping to give their master an opportunity to escape; Gendry swung his warhammer in a circle hitting the chin of the first man, and crushing his jaw. He then proceeded to thrust it forward hitting another guard in the chest and impaling him on the spike at the end.

Gendry slaughtered the rest of the guards without his men even having to step in. He then gave chase to Qarlon and the guards who ran away; luckily for Gendry, they hadn't gone far as he could still hear the Prince's footsteps and panicked breathing.

Qarlon ran for his life, he ran from the monster that had torn his men apart. Had he been more sane of mind at the moment he would've told Gendry everything he wanted to know, but after seeing his guard's head torn from his body he stopped thinking. He missed an opportunity as Gendry was the most reasonable of the mercenary company and he would've most likely let Qarlon on his way after he got the information he needed to know. Of course, Qarlon didn't know that, the only thing running through his mind was the likelihood of him ending up the same way as his guard. What he didn't know was that there were worse fates than that and a lot worse people than Gendry.

"Where are you running off to..." a cold voice asked as a woman backed by ten men crossed into Qarlons vision cutting off his escape.

Mya had split off from Gendry and Edric to search for Jon and luckily she was ahead of Qarlon when he started to run which made cutting him off easier. Qarlon fell on his back as he started to back up with his three remaining guards. "I asked you a question, you do know what that is do you not?" Mya said as she fingered a dagger between her hands.

Qarlon could still not speak, only sounds emerged from his throat. He turned around in order to run again but as he did he saw Gendry emerging from where he came cutting off his retreat and sealing his fate. "Where is Jon Snow, answer my question and you can leave," Mya said in a tone as Sharp as ice.

Fire started to surround her body as she approached Qarlon. "Monsters, you are all monsters..." he whispered out as he felt his legs give way. The guards next to him started to scream a wave of flames washed over them turning them into charred corpses. "You flatter me my Prince, but I am growing tired of having to ask," Mya said as the flames dissipated and she knelt next to Qarlon.

"If you don't answer me I will burn all the skin off your body while keeping you alive," Mya said as she leaned forward and whispered into his ear. Qarlon felt tears stream down his face as he looked into the empty emotionless eyes of Mya and he started to laugh manically. He was supposed to be the next King of Lorath, he was supposed to do what his ancestor couldn't and reclaim Andalos, and yet here he was about to die to some unholy abominations. "Please don't kill me!!!" He shouts through tear-filled eyes as he gets on his knees —his story couldn't end here.

"I'll tell you everything you need to know!" He shouts as he bows low to Mya. The woman looks down at Qarlon in amusement, to have a Prince of Lorath prostrating himself to her sent shivers from her spine straight to her womanhood. She stepped on his head forcing him lower to the ground "You'll show me where Jon Snow is heading won't you..." she said in a low voice.

"Yes, I will!!! I will!!!" Qarlon rambled.

"Yes, what!" Mya shouted.

"Yes, mistress!!!" Qarlon said in a fear-filled voice.

"Good... now walk ahead of us and lead us to Jon," She said as she removed her foot from him. Though as he went to stand up she sent her foot right back down "Did I ask you to stand up?" She asked.

"Crawl on the ground like the mutt you are," Mya commanded. Qarlon obeyed and crawled across the ground ahead of them as he supposedly led them to Jon. The problem was that Qarlon had no idea where Jon was; he could only assume that he was heading to the centre of the maze where the keep of his ancestor was located.

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Jon had lost all sense of reality as he walked down the pitch-black corridors with his eyes bound. He had no idea how long he had wandered the labyrinth, the only indicator he had was his growling stomach and the pangs of hunger he felt. His lips were dry and his throat was parched; he knew that if he didn't find a way out soon he would lose his strength and end up dying in this place.

Ever since Jon bound his eyes he had felt on edge. Ever since he stopped trying to see he was experiencing other things —whispers on the wind that brushed across his skin— it sent shivers along his spine and it made him consider taking the blindfold off. But he knew he couldn't, what he was doing now was his only option for survival 'Or I have gone completely mad,' he thought to himself as he stepped slowly down the maze corridors barely making a sound, yet to his ears, each footstep sounded like the shattering of glass on the floor.

Jon stopped as he heard footsteps that were not his own approaching him. He listened out, they were slow and steady which means that it must be a cultists. Anyone else would be walking faster or they'd be more unsure of their steps making them slow and uneven. Jon stopped and waited as the footsteps got closer; he was perfectly still not even breathing as he waited for the cultist to get within his range.

As soon as the cultist stepped within reach Jon whipped his hand out in front of him intent on grabbing the cultist by the throat. What he did not account for was the cultist's height relative to his own and therefore he ended up grabbing the man by the head; Jon reacted quickly though and smashed the cultist's head against the wall multiple times until he stopped struggling. He breathed out a sigh of relief as the cultist dropped to the floor dead; Jon followed the cultist as he sat on the ground next to the body hoping to find any food or water on the cultist's body, but it would seem he was out of luck as the cultist had a dagger and nothing else.

"Hells..." Jon said to himself as he leaned against the wall wondering about what he should do next, he knew it wouldn't be long until he started to grow weaker from dehydration and starvation. He couldn't help but find amusement in dying in a place like this; he was so worried about dying in the grey waste that he died on a quest to find an item that would reduce the likelihood of him dying. "Seems like the type of way I'd die," he said to himself.

Maybe he could finally rest, for a long time he had not felt happy. He missed Tyene more than worse could express, as much as he felt guilty for admitting it she was his true love and more often than not he had thought about joining her in the next life whatever adventure it may be. Jon wiped his eyes before taking a deep breath and banishing these thoughts from his head, he wouldn't consider doing something like that until he's done everything he possibly could to bring her back.

"Everything I can..." he said to himself as he faced the still-warm corpse of the cultist. Deciding to get it over with he ripped the clothes off the cultist and brought his arm up to his mouth; hesitating at what he was about to do Jon steeled himself and bit down on the cultist's wrist. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he bit right into the vein of the wrist.

Jon slowly started to eat the corpse of the cultist as he drank the blood, it wasn't as good as water but it would hydrate him somewhat. The flesh was hard to eat but through vigorous chewing, Jon managed to get it down, at times he had to stop himself from throwing up, but he had to admit it was a lot easier than he imagined.

When half the arm was stripped to the bone Jon began to feel some pain in his body —more specifically his head. He started to groan and move away as his head started to throb and he fell to the ground as he tried to stand up. His mind started to drift away and his vision started to darken, as his vision darkened the pain faded away, but so did everything else.

...

When Jon's vision returned he found himself standing somewhere he didn't expect. He saw Brienne sitting by one of the pools of the water gardens with their baby rocking in her arms; beside her was Daenerys who was still heavily pregnant. "What in the hell is going on..." Jon said to himself.

"I believe I can answer that question Daemon."

(AN: This chapter wasn't too bad I think, we have crossed the halfway point and are getting towards the end, anyone wanna guess what's waiting for them? Hope you enjoyed the chapter)

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