Remember

I opened my eyes from my slumber. What met me was the surrounding leaves of the towering trees in the forest. Quickly getting up, I extinguished the still burning fire that kept me warm last night.

It has only been a day since I left the Flint's Finger, by my estimation I should arrive south of Moat Cailin to the Kingsroad today if I ride swiftly.

Wasting no time, I cleared my campsite, packed everything on the back of Bob, and went on my way.

While I rode on the rolling hills of the North my mind focused on the days ahead. 'For the conquest of the world I will need power, money, and most importantly; men. Men to do my bidding, ready to serve.'

And to have capable men you need loyalty. 'First I shall need to fill my coppers, An Emperor without gold is no Emperor at all. Through any ways necessary I shall earn what I need in my conquests and for the upkeep of my soon-to-be Kingdom, I could start well in the South, and when the time comes I can move to the East.'

Men follow what they fear and respect, a balance of both, any other else and you won't last very long. Rule with fear then your Lords will inevitably despise you, Rule only with respect and they'll see you weak. Above all be fair and just to your subjects, but ruthless and without mercy to your enemies.

Bob neighed under me, 'we have been riding with haste for about an hour, perhaps it's best that we take a rest for now.'

'It would take me a moon to reach Oldtown, two if I take my time. I would rather take my time riding than arrive there exhausted, It won't do good if I proclaim myself as an Atlas looking like a rugged bandit.

Not to House Hightower, even if they don't remember my House. It would do good to ally with them in the future.' He said in his thoughts, as he remembered the House.

If he was not mistaken, it was where a Minor Lord at court was from during Emperor Odys's reign. There was only two Houses in Westeros he could recall in the many books he read, one was House Hightower, the other; House Dayne.

It would be best if he investigated about House Dayne more, as their Ancient Sword; Dawn, was said to be made of a falling Star. 'Perhaps they know much more about me and my House's Legacy.'

He trotted towards a tree he saw atop a hill, there he dismounted Bob and tied him around the tree. Over the hill he could see the marshes of the neck in the far distance 'Soon, once I get south I shall reclaim what's mine. And my family's exile will be no more.'

He fed Bob and gave him water, rested for a moment and went again with haste, riding to the Kings Road.

*

Although the Kings Road did make travel much easier, it is still a hassle to go through the deep mud and lush marshes. A few missteps here and there could lead the Horse into a pool of mud and get stuck.

Thus travel became slow and steady, as to not risk it. He has been traversing the neck for almost 4 Hours. By his calculations he should arrive halfway, and another 4 hours to go.

As his clothes and armor was dirtied by the earth, he could sense many animals looking his way and giving him space. Never getting too close, predatory animals were not attacking him.

A raven cawed.

He looked in it's direction and their eyes met. As he looked into the black orbs of the raven, he saw not an animal, but something much more.

Deep inside him a feeling burned.

He moved on and continued on his trek, while sensing the raven, he let it be, for it's no use to inspect such things.

'Magic is present here still. Our story wasn't forgotten the way we thought it would be.'

He didn't mind the mud and the dirt, he was used to it. What bothered him was the feeling of suddenly being watched, as if the raven had not already been watching him. He felt eyes on his shoulder, and he couldn't take it easy.

He brought out bread for him to eat, the long and bogged down journey dawning on him, he didn't know how long he has been travelling. Maybe a few hours by his estimation, maybe more.

As he took a bite off the bread, the raven suddenly appeared and fought him for it, keen on taking food for itself. As he swung his arms, and flayed at it, intent on kedping it away; a voice echoed through the foggy air.

"That's no way to treat my raven." The voice said in a calm tone.

All around him the leaves, the soil, and the branches stood.

Looking at the sound, he saw a small man that wore bronze scales weilding a three-pronged spear looking at him.

"Memento mori."

"Remember you will die." It said, extending his hand in front of him as a gesture.

Marcellus widened his eyes.

"Memento vivere."

"Remember to live." He replied traditionally, lowering his head.