The Warrior Mage of Westeros

Beneath the dense, ancient canopy of the Wolfswood, Eddard Stark, Warden of the North, led his company deeper into the labyrinth of towering trees. The air was crisp and carried the scent of damp earth and pine. The forest floor was littered with fallen leaves that crunched softly underfoot, their crimson and gold hues blending into the muted light of late afternoon. The woods whispered with the rustling of unseen creatures, broken only by the distant caw of a raven.

Eddard walked ahead, his cloak billowing faintly in the breeze, his hand resting on the pommel of Ice, the greatsword strapped across his back. Behind him followed Jon Snow and Robb Stark, the former with his usual quiet intensity, the latter with a determined glint in his eye. Theon Greyjoy, all swagger and sharp grins, brought up the rear with Jory Cassel and a handful of Stark guards.

The sun struggled to break through the dense weave of branches overhead, casting scattered, dappled light on the moss-covered ground. It was Jon who broke the quiet first.

"Father," he said, his voice low but steady, "it feels… strange here. Like the air's heavier."

Eddard didn't glance back but nodded, his expression as stoic and thoughtful as ever. "Aye, the Wolfswood has always had its mysteries. The old gods linger here. Best you remember that, Jon."

The party pressed on, the silence growing heavier with every step, until a piercing radiance sliced through the gloom ahead. It wasn't the wan, flickering light of the sun struggling through the trees—it was something brighter, more vivid, like molten silver spilling onto the forest floor.

Eddard came to an abrupt halt and raised a hand. "Hold," he said, his voice carrying the kind of calm authority that demanded instant obedience. The party froze.

"What is that?" Robb asked, his Northern accent thick and edged with caution. He peered ahead, his hand drifting toward the hilt of his sword. His blue eyes, so much like his mother's, narrowed as he tried to make sense of the glow.

Jon, standing beside his half-brother, squinted. "It's… like fire, but cold." His brow furrowed, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword.

Theon stepped up beside them, his ever-present smirk curling his lips. "Maybe it's some old gods come to welcome us, eh? Or something less friendly." His tone was light, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes as he glanced at Eddard.

Ned didn't answer right away. His face was set in that familiar, solemn mask, the one that gave nothing away but somehow conveyed everything. He turned his head slightly, his voice low and measured. "The Wolfswood hides many secrets, most best left undisturbed. But we're Starks, and we face what comes."

Jory Cassel shifted his weight, his sword already half-drawn. "Do we approach, my lord?"

Ned considered for a moment longer before nodding, his hand now resting on the hilt of his sword. "Aye. But cautiously. Whatever it is, we don't turn our backs on it."

Robb's lips pressed into a thin line. "We should flank it. Whatever's ahead might not be friendly."

"Flanking?" Theon quipped, though he unslung his bow with practiced ease. "And here I thought wolves charged headfirst."

"Not when they're smart," Robb replied without missing a beat, his tone sharp but not unkind.

Jon, who had been silent, stepped forward. "I'll go ahead. Quietly." His dark eyes met his father's, searching for approval.

Ned shook his head. "No. We move together. A wolf alone is vulnerable. Remember that."

The group moved forward, their boots crunching on the frost-touched leaves. As they neared the source of the light, the glow grew brighter, almost blinding, and the air around them seemed to hum with an unnatural energy. It wasn't just light—it was alive, shifting and pulsing like it had a heartbeat of its own.

Theon muttered under his breath, "If this is some wildling trick, I'm going to—"

"Quiet," Ned snapped, his tone soft but cutting as a blade. His sharp grey eyes were fixed ahead, his expression unreadable. "We're close."

The forest opened into a small glade, and there, in the center, stood the source of the light. What it was, none of them could say—not yet. But it was unlike anything they had ever seen.

—

The Stark party emerged cautiously into the clearing, their breaths misting in the chilly air as they took in the scene before them. At the center of a smoldering crater stood a boy, no older than Jon or Robb. His red and gold armor gleamed unnaturally in the wan light, the intricate bird motif on his chestplate catching the eye. A sword, its hilt engraved with unfamiliar runes, hung at his side. He was an enigma—otherworldly yet undeniably human—his dark hair windswept and his green eyes sharp and assessing.

Eddard Stark's expression hardened, his instincts screaming caution. He stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of Ice, the greatsword strapped across his back. His eyes, grey and unyielding, scanned the boy as if peeling back layers to uncover the truth.

"Who goes there?" Eddard demanded, his voice firm and even, carrying the authority of the Warden of the North.

The boy raised an eyebrow, his demeanor calm despite the intimidating sight of armed men surrounding him. "I mean you no harm," he said, his voice steady but carrying an undertone of weariness.

Eddard narrowed his eyes, the silence in the clearing heavy with unspoken questions. "I am Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, Warden of the North," he said, his voice filled with the quiet dignity of his station. He gestured behind him. "These are my sons, Robb and Jon, my ward Theon Greyjoy, and my captain, Jory Cassel. Speak plainly, boy. What is your name, and how came you to be here?"

The boy hesitated, his gaze flickering to the crater and then back to the Starks. His expression was shadowed, as if he were sorting through fragmented memories. "My name is Hadrian Potter," he said finally, his tone clipped but polite. "But my friends call me Harry." He paused, his brow furrowing. "As for how I got here… that's less clear. I remember a battle. A terrible one. And then… nothing. Until now."

Robb Stark, standing just behind his father, stepped forward, his posture tense but curious. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, though his expression betrayed more intrigue than hostility. "A battle, you say? With whom?"

Hadrian's eyes darkened, the memory clearly painful. "A man named Tom," he replied, his voice tight. "He was the source of much suffering—mine and others'. I ended it. But… it cost me everything."

Jon Snow, standing at Robb's side, studied Hadrian with quiet intensity. There was something familiar about the boy's quiet pain, something Jon understood all too well. "And now you're here," Jon said softly, his Northern accent lending weight to his words. "Alone."

Hadrian met Jon's gaze, his expression resolute despite the lingering sorrow in his eyes. "Alone," he confirmed.

Theon Greyjoy, leaning casually against a tree with his characteristic smirk, chose that moment to interject. "Sounds like quite the tale," he drawled, his tone dripping with skepticism. "A hero, are we? Slaying villains and saving the day?"

Jon shot Theon a sharp look, his tone cold as the Wolfswood air. "You've no place to judge him, Theon. Show some respect."

Theon raised his hands in mock surrender, though his grin didn't fade. "Easy, Snow. Just making conversation."

Eddard's gaze flicked to Theon, his expression stern enough to silence the Greyjoy's smirk. "Enough, Theon," he said, his voice low but firm. "This boy is a guest under my protection now. Hold your tongue unless you've something useful to say."

Theon muttered something under his breath but wisely said no more.

Eddard turned back to Hadrian, his expression softening slightly. "You're safe now, lad. Winterfell is not far. You'll have food, shelter, and a place to rest while we figure out what brought you here."

Hadrian inclined his head in gratitude. "Thank you, Lord Stark. I would be honored to accept your hospitality. But…" He hesitated, then glanced toward the crater. "I'm not entirely alone. May I summon my companion?"

The guards exchanged wary glances, and Robb's hand tightened on his sword. Eddard considered for a moment before giving a short nod. "Do so. But tread carefully. We must ensure the safety of all."

Hadrian closed his eyes and murmured a name: "Fawkes."

A burst of fire erupted in midair, and the Stark party recoiled, several men drawing their swords. From the flames emerged a magnificent phoenix, its plumage shimmering in hues of red and gold. The bird circled once before settling on Hadrian's shoulder, its keen eyes surveying the group.

Jon's jaw slackened as he stared at the creature. "A phoenix," he murmured, almost reverently. "Old Nan told tales of them… but I thought they were only stories."

Robb, equally awestruck, glanced at his father. "Have you ever seen its like?"

Eddard shook his head, his hand still resting on Ice's hilt. "No. But the world is wider and stranger than we often believe." His gaze shifted to Hadrian. "This phoenix is your companion?"

Hadrian nodded. "His name is Fawkes. He's loyal and means no harm."

Theon, though visibly impressed, couldn't resist a quip. "A flaming bird. Well, that's not something you see every day. Even in the Iron Islands."

Eddard's glare silenced him before he could say more. "That's enough, Theon."

Hadrian turned to Theon, his voice calm but firm. "Fawkes is more than he appears. I'd advise against underestimating him."

Theon nodded hastily, his earlier bravado slipping away.

With Fawkes perched serenely on Hadrian's shoulder, the party began their journey back to Winterfell. The woods seemed less foreboding now, though the questions surrounding Hadrian Potter and his arrival lingered heavy in the crisp Northern air.

---

Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!

I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!

If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!

Click the link below to join the conversation:

https://discord.com/invite/HHHwRsB6wd

Can't wait to see you there!

If you appreciate my work and want to support me, consider buying me a cup of coffee. Your support helps me keep writing and bringing more stories to you. You can do so via PayPal here:

https://www.paypal.me/VikrantUtekar007

Or through my Buy Me a Coffee page:

https://www.buymeacoffee.com/vikired001s

Thank you for your support!