The scent of prey drew him closer.
The stag had little time to react before the wolf pounced on it, jumping straight for its neck. It bit into the animal's muscle and blood sprayed all over as veins and arteries were cut open. As soon as it had started, it was over and the wolf now moved to satiate his hunger on his kill.
At first glance, there would be nothing wrong with a wolf hunting at night, especially a stag, which was its normal prey. The only thing wrong about it, was that there was a boy's consciousness witnessing it all through the predator's eyes.
And atop a tree sat a raven.
It cawed at the wolf, who momentarily stopped paying attention to its prey and looked up at its direction. The raven only observed the wolf from a distance, but continued to caw, clearly wanting to draw its attention.
Then, the raven flew down, towards the stag carcass and landed right atop it. It looked intently at the wolf, who, satiated, saw no need to try and eat the bird. The boy inside observed the raven. Not that he knew he was inside a wolf in real life, of course. For him, it was just another dream.
And, just like the other dreams, this raven was special. Quite a special raven indeed.
It had three eyes.
The wolf moved closer and the raven's third eye was now evident to him. Despite the oddity in front of the boy, he wasn't scared. He had been, in the beginning, but not anymore. He already knew what this raven wanted. And soon enough, the same message played in his head.
Two teenagers arriving in Winterfell, coming from the South. One with a spear and another with the sight.
Three adults coming through a portal and making haste north. Their foreign clothes exchanged for those of the northerners.
The Wall, standing proud against the wind. A Ranger departing, waved goodbye by a black brother with a white wolf.
A sacred Weirwood Tree deep within the lands beyond the wall. A cave right below it, inviting, beckoning him closer, claiming for his presence.
And then… morning.
Bran woke up sweating cold, as he had every time he had this dream. A dream that happened every night since his father marched south with the King. A dream he had discussed both with his mother and with Maester Lewin, just for both to dismiss it as the tirades of the young. A dream that came with a message.
"Go to the Wall and then beyond it. Allies will come to your aid. The Old Gods will guide you. Your destiny awaits"
These were the words engraved on young Bran's mind every day he woke up. And, every day he knew he needed to leave Winterfell. He had tried before, but with no success. The first two times, it was easy to slip out of the castle, as no one was looking for him, but after search parties had recovered him twice wandering north outside of Winterfell, the security around him had grown tighter. There was hardly a moment of the day that he wasn't accompanied by two guards or more.
"Mom, you don't understand, I need to go!" he'd plead every time he got caught "Rob, you know follow the Old Gods just like me and dad. They gave me a mission! You're Lord of Winterfell while dad is away, you need to let me go!"
"No!" Catelyn would snap back at him every time as well, while his brother would stare at him with the same look of pity in his eyes "You're my son and I won't let you go anywhere that isn't safe. And where you want to go is the most dangerous place in existence. Do you think you'd survive there? With the wildlings? How long until one of them decides to snatch you and eat you?"
Despite her attempts to scare him, Bran remained firm. He knew instinctively that no wildling would harm them on their way. And that's if they even found a wildling to begin with.
"No, John will help me. He and the Night's Watch will take me where I need to go. Please mother, I don't need to go alone. Rob can send soldiers with me. I'll be safe there."
"Absolutely not! You'll never be safe out there and if you keep trying to escape, I'll send you to your father in King's Landing" she'd threaten before looking at Rob "And you better not incentivize your little brother with this insanity".
Indeed it was almost like a choreographed dance between the Starks at this point. But now things were different. Today the attention of everyone in Winterfell was drawn to something else. Something far more important.
His father had ordered Rob to call the banners. The King had been attacked on his way back to King's Landing by the Lannisters. The North was now at war with the Westerlands.
Soon, when the men left south, keeping only a small garrison to defend Winterfell, it would be much easier to escape. And he knew that, while everyone was heading towards the Neck, two people were coming northwards. To meet with him and to help him escape. Now, the impatient Bran Stark would have to face his most despised enemy.
The waiting.
He stood up from his bed and walked towards his window, looking towards the castle downstairs, as soldiers checked equipment, blacksmiths forged new weapons and armor and stewards prepared the supplies for the journey south.
Then he looked at forest and the vast plains ahead, watching as carts with supplies came and went, while cavalry patrols kept them safe. The gold breeze told him that summer wouldn't last for much longer. The words of his house came to his head when his wolf came to place his head at the parapet next to him.
"Winter is coming, Summer. And we need to get beyond the Wall and back before it does."
___________________________________________________________________
A group of maesters gathered in a spacious room with quite sumptuous decor. The stained glasses from Myr, depicting the achievements of great maesters, the round table carved of Golden Oak with gilded finishes, much like the chairs. There were 21 chairs present around the table, which was used whenever the Conclave of Archmaesters would gather to take major decisions, such as declaring the change of seasons or electing a new Grand Maester.
This time, however, not all chairs were taken. After all, this wasn't an official meeting and there was no need for extra ears than those who were aligned with the cause. In total, there were eight amongst them. All old men. Some with white hair, some bald. Some with grey beards, others with none at all.
Each Archmaester had special links denoting their rank and specialization. The first had mostly golden links, for finance and economics.
The second had mostly steel links, for the study of warfare.
The third, mostly black iron links, for ravenry.
The fourth, mostly lead, for the study of toxicology, which in practical terms meant poisons.
The fifth had mostly silver links, for medicine and healing.
The sixth had mostly platinum links, for law and jurisprudence.
The seventh had mostly glass links, for memetics and indoctrination.
Finally the eight had mostly simple iron, for the study of magic nullification. The last two being heavily guarded secrets of the Citadel.
"Brothers, let us commence this meeting in earnest, I'm sure we all have pressing researches to return to" said the Archmaester of Ravenry "a bit more than half a moon ago, Maester Archibald sent a raven detailing how this sorceress we've all be hearing so much about used her magic to cure Ser Garth Hightower from a deadly injure. I trust you've all read his letter and subsequent reports."
The room nodded in agreement.
"Now, we have one more problem. Our sources on Riverrun said she managed to considerably ease the symptoms of Lord Tully's disease. More than that, they say she had been previously attacked by Ser Amory Lorch and his men under the guise of bandits and that she ended him with a flick of her wrist."
The room was filled of perplex and worried looks. For a little while, there was an oppressive silence, until another man broke it.
"Did Maester Vyman send word?" asked the Archmaester of Medicine.
"Bah! As if he'd dignify himself to do the right thing. That one is deep into Marwyn's influence. He'd never send any word to us" exclaimed the Archmaester of Magic Nullification.
"Indeed, he did not" the Archmaester of Ravenry replied stroking his beard leisurely "it was our other sources in the Riverlands that told us so. This is a worrying development, is it not?"
"Yes" answered the Archmaester of Memetics and Indoctrination "if this continues, it will be more than Arya Stark who will flock to her in hopes of studying and gathering magical knowledge. This is a significant threat against our interests. We must act fast! Magic should never be allowed to return with strength to this world! It is a menace not only to us, but to everyone in the Seven Kingdoms."
"We can always use the upcoming war to dispose of her" said the Archmaester of Warfare "just finish what Tywin Lannister started. We just need a slightly higher number of bandits to ambush her and we'll be rid of her."
"So you believe there will be a war?" asked the Archmaester of Ravenry.
"Yes" he replied "Robert will surely wish to avenge the attempt on his life. And, even if he dies, the savage from the north will make sure to avenge him in his stead. Nothing short of Tywin's miraculous death tonight would prevent a war from brewing. And we all know that isn't happening."
"And what about the Stark girl?" asked the Archmaester of Finances "what should be done with her?"
"With luck she dies with the Sorceress, I for sure won't weep a tear for a northern savage who doesn't even follow our gods or our traditions" replied the Archmaester of Law.
"And what if this plan fails? What if one or even the two of them survive the ambush? What is our contingency?" asked the Archmaester of Toxicology.
"Do you have a proposal?" the Archmaester of Warfare asked with a frown.
"As a matter of fact, I do" he replied with a grin "We can always just have them poisoned. Tears of Lys are expensive, sure, but not to ones such as ourselves. One simple cup of water or wine could do the trick and rid us of a powerful enemy. What do you think?"
The Archmaesters sat pensively for a while, weighing the options presented to them. An ambush was risky in its results, but would be easier to deny their involvement. Poisoning was safer in ensuring her death, but the Maester responsible for it would need to be extra careful as not to be discovered.
"I don't see why we can't use both options." The Archmaester of Indoctrination broke the silence "Warn all the brothers aligned with our cause across the Seven Kingdoms that both girls are to be poisoned at the earliest possible time if they visit one of their Lord's castles. In the meantime, we can arrange with our contacts to have her ambushed and killed once the war begins, if an opportunity presents itself."
He continued, as his colleagues looked at him with malicious smiles, watching their plan come to form.
"Also, I believe we should open a third route of offensive against her, one I can deal with myself. I'm willing to contact our friends in the Faith of the Seven and have them convince the rest of the clergy to denounce this sorceress as a menace and a heretic. Every septon should preach about it in their sermons. Every septa should teach the noble children about it. Every herald should shout this truth to the top of their lungs in each street of every faithful city, village and castle. This is my advice."
"I concur" said the Archmaester of Warfare.
"I concur" said each Archmaester of Toxicology and one after the other all other Archmaesters.
"Then we have an agreement", said the Archmaester of Ravenry "I will immediately send ravens to inform our allies across the realm. We will put this plan into motion as soon as possible. With that, I believe we can close this meeting."
The Archmaesters stood up and departed, each to do their duties or to return to their research. As the sun reached its highest point in the sky, ravens flew from the Citadel in all directions, putting the Archmaester Conspiracy into motion.