Game Of Thrones Joffrey Baratheon Purple Days

"Storm's picking up again…" Said Captain Shah as he rode besides Joffrey, away from his position at the front.

"Godsdamnit, again!?" Joffrey cursed as he stopped his mount and stood over his spurs. He could see the characteristic dust prophets forming up on the horizon yet again, small, contained whirlwinds of sand and fury barely more than a couple of meters in diameter.

Joffrey cursed again, signaling the formation to stop.

There was a reason they were called 'dust prophets', and it was not because of their oratory skills.

"Sunbeam Colba, signal 'Form Camp' and 'Brace for Sandstorm'" he commanded to his back.

"Aye sir" said the sunbeam, getting out the relevant small signal flags.

"This one's the fifth in a week, it's as if the winds themselves don't want us to reach Kohl's Refuge…" he muttered to Shah. The long scout nodded warily, "It's very rare to see them so bunched up… and absurdly coincidental for that to happen when we need the most haste…" he said as he scanned the grey horizon, watching the dunes intently.

"Nothing we can do about it…" Joffrey muttered.

Another motto of my life… maybe I could write a compilation?

"Tell the others to meet at my tent after they've set up, we might as well use the time productively" He said.

"I'll see to it" Shah said as he spurred his horse, and Joffrey stared at the steadily darkening horizon as a grey curtain slowly enveloped his surroundings.

We need to get to Kohl's Refuge as soon as possible… before the Expedition's supplies run out…

-.PD.-

"Alright, so what do we know?" Joffrey asked as he paced inside his tent, hands clasped behind his back in a manner very similar to the General's, not that he noticed that.

"We know an army of undead is being resurrected by unknown means, and that their numbers are building up" Said Captain Sabu, stating the obvious as he loosed the straps on the heavy armor he was carrying.

"We also know that a powerful group of cultists known as the Grey Word Whisperers, led by some man named Vahram, is responsible or at the very least consorting with the force behind the mass resurrections" Said Jhos, frowning as he thought about it all.

"We know the reanimated can be destroyed or killed if sufficiently damaged, and that fire seems to light them like torches if the circumstances permit it… and there's something about the obsidian that fits in with all this, but I don't know how…" Xon-Mi muttered out loud, walking forward and leaning on the small table.

Joffrey kept pacing as the sandstorm outside the tent redoubled in intensity, the eerie shrieking and the slamming sand an ominous backdrop to the thoughts inside his head.

Obsidian does something bad for the Whisperers or their allies…

Obsidian…

Obsidian…. Also known as Dragonglass in Westeros.

For a student of history, the connection wasn't that hard to make, even though he'd been trying to deny it again and again.

Dragonglass, one of the few if not the only weapon known to have been lethal against… the White Walkers…

Incomprehensible abominations that sought to exterminate all life on Westeros…

Also known for raising the dead, whom were called wights…

Thought of as a myth by almost everyone on Westeros…

Godsdamnit, the cosmos can't be that cruel. It can't be…

He dismissed the possibility out of his mind, furiously shaking his head before he looked back to Xon-Mi, "For now though, can you do anything with the chunk of obsidian we recovered? Make a couple dozen daggers maybe?" he asked the Wooden-Iron Sun.

Xon-Mi shook his head "Not with the equipment here. With the mobile forges at Kohl's refuge… maybe, thought that's doubtful. If we were at the Greytower…" he shook his head again. "There is something I can do now though, I can use all the scrap bronze we've collected to make metal knuckles, not very dangerous but if I coat the outer part with jagged pieces of obsidian, and assuming the stuff actually does something to our enemies… well, at least it 'be something" he said, showing his palms and shrugging.

"Do it" Joffrey told him, briefly opening his tent's flap to gaze outside.

"We need to get to Kohl's Refuge and warn the others" Joffrey said as he gazed back at his officers, "Whatever the cost, we must get back" he said as he stared at the storm outside, eyes as hard as granite.

-.PD.-

The sandstorm raged eternally, only seeming to get worse after each day of hard marching.

Joffrey was stared fixedly at the slate in front of him, puzzling over the few figures he'd managed to recover from the Carved Hall. He'd written down everything inside the circle in the vague hope of puzzling something out, though that hope remained scant.

It's no use to keep pouring over the letters, they could say anything…

The pictograms though…

He sketched in a different scroll what he'd been slowly reconstructing out of the strange string of figures, trying to figure out its meaning.

This one looks like some kind of soldier or warrior… And this one looks like some kind of tree surrounded by three dots…

There was no denying it now. Someone in the deep past had, somehow, left a message for Joffrey. They'd carved his death at his wedding in almost perfect detail. After recovering from his breakdown, Joffrey had identified Tywin, Tyrion, Olenna, Maergery, Ser Jaime and even Sansa on it. They'd somehow known what was going to happen… it would not be farfetched to say they were probably the ones behind his condition, or at least extremely knowledgeable about it… there was no way in hells that someone who had not seen the purple could have carved such an… accurate depiction of it, twirls and forks and fractals that made his head hurt included.

But what were they trying to tell him? And why leave a part as some sort of puzzle and not as plain text as they had clearly done but a few centimeters below…

He thought the pictograms perhaps represented some type of spell, maybe, perhaps foolishly, a key to resolving his curse in some way…

He'd shown the pictograms to Jhos but he couldn't make heads or tails of it. He said he was sure it was not some kind of spell or written magic that he knew of however…

What does a soldier, a tree and a mace have all in common?

…

He shook his head as he stood up, securing yet again the heavy scarf around his neck and mouth before putting on his helmet.

He stepped outside into the raging sandstorm, taking a moment to get his bearing before walking determined to the northern perimeter.

The scouts on watch there were all staring at differing angles, almost buried under a sea of cloaks. So good were they camouflaged that Joffrey almost stepped on them.

"Anything out there?" he asked as he crouched beside them, peering intently and trying to shield his eyes with his hand.

"All quiet sir" said one of the Threerays, clutching his bow in one hand while the other was not too far away from his saber.

"Good, let me know if the storm shifts" he told him before getting back. He walked back around the perimeter, inspecting positions and gazing at the damned storm. Someone was trying to keep them pinned here, he was sure of it.

He was a bit skeptical of coincidences after all he'd lived through.

He crouched beside a few scouts in the eastern perimeter, peering intently at the grey storm. "Anything out here?" he asked them.

"Sir!" one of them said as he turned back, "Nothing so f-"

"Ssshh… look, to the right" one of them said, readying his bow.

All the scouts slowly rose from their dune, readying their bows for a quick 'volley'.

Joffrey could see some kind of figure approaching from within the sandstorm, a slow, lumbering shadow.

His heart clenched as he slowly got his saber out, his mouth dry as he peered intently at the silhouette. The undead were coming for them again.

I will not falter, I will not be stopped, Joffrey thought furiously. He had to get to the oasis.

Suddenly the silhouette stopped, and somehow seemed to… open itself?

Joffrey narrowed his eyes before he suddenly shouted.

"CAMEL BALLISTA! GET DOWN!" he said as he jumped and tackled one of the scouts. A few of the others jumped in a second, but the others were too slow. With a strangled Kchik vaguely audible over the sandstorm, a hailstorm of meter long bolts rained all over their position, piercing and impaling Joffrey's men.

"SOUND THE ALARM! WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!!!" he bellowed back as he peeked over the small dune again, cursing as he saw the big silhouette disappear and be replaced by dozens of Camel Tribe Raiders, shooting arrows without end at the camp.

The horns started to sound as Joffrey took out his bow and placed an arrow on a raider's chest, doing the same again before he ducked down and narrowly avoided one that would have taken him in the eye.

"SCOUTS! LEAPING FALLBACK NOW! To the inner perimeter!" he shouted as the camel riders seemed to multiply, emerging from the cover of the sandstorm and raining arrows upon the camp with their short bows.

"YOU HEARD THE TWOSUN! LOOSE AND LEAP MEN! LOOSE AND LEAP!" roared a Sunbeam as he loosed an arrow before pushing one of his men back. The scouts started retreating towards the inner perimeter, running for a few meters before loosing arrows at the raiders, forcing them to keep their distance lest they give the scouts a bigger target. The enemy camelry aborted their incipient saber charge, splitting in two and falling back to their sides as they peppered the scouts with their own arrows.

Joffrey heard vague screams of agony and grunts muffled by the all-encompassing sandstorm as he got another raider in the neck, running back again as a few of the scouts in front covered him, forcing the camel archers to shoot quickly and with lesser accuracy lest an arrow found them instead.

He leapt up and over the inner perimeter, formed by the circled wagons of the supporting formation. The circled wagons served as a last line of concentrated defense, and he could see most of the legionaries converging on them as the ones that had already made it tried their best to cover them.

Joffrey quickly joined them, shooting arrows like a man possessed at the dozens of raiders that had formed a 'skirmishing circle', a Camel Tribe favorite which consisted of circling around a moving center as the closest riders shot their arrows, this way a continuous stream of them was always in the air (as the circle was always rotating), making the scouts duck continuously lest they get killed by a lucky arrow.

"SUNBEAM JEHI!!!" he roared as he got a raider on the shoulder, dropping him to the ground.

"Sir!" shouted his horn scout, clutching the multitude of horns close as he ran and ducking beside a light foodstuffs wagon, right next to Joffrey.

"Signal 'Fallback and Hold!' Right now damnit!" he said as he crouched, planting his back on the cart and letting it cover him from the deadly arrows.

"Aye Sir! Fallback and--" the entire light wagon Jehi had been leaning on erupted in splinters as a spread of heavy bolts pierced it, impaling Jehi and four other scouts brutally, some of them flying back from the bolt's force.

Joffrey tried to drown their harrowing screams from his mind as he jumped and grabbed his horn scout by the shoulders, dragging him back to his own wagon as a hail of arrows rained all around them.

"SOMEONE GET THAT DAMNED BALLISTA!" Joffrey roared to his back as he peeked again, the scouts closest to him aiming and loosing arrows at the Camel Ballista. They didn't seem very effective; planting themselves harmlessly on the sturdy looking carriageas it once again disappeared into the sandstorm, making use of its infamous mobility to quickly reposition itself gods knew where. He saw Captain Hu jump over the barricade of crates and carts and take command over the scouts to his right.

"JEHI! SUNBEAM!!!" he shouted at the man to his side, but his horn scout looked listless, eyes still as blood oozed from his mouth and his mangled shoulder… the bolt had taken his entire right arm.

Joffrey took one of his horns, taking a deep breath.

He blew 'Fallback and Hold' again and again, taking his saber with his other hand as he left his bow there.

"ON THE LEFT FLANK! PACED ARROWS!" he roared at the men taking cover all around him, behind wagons and crates. "KEEP EM DISPERSED! COME ON! COME ON!!!" he shouted as he aimed at another skirmishing circle to his left with the saber.

He blew the horn again as arrows rained all around the area, planting themselves on wood and flesh, one of them grazing his right arm.

"Sir! Sir!!!" shouted a Sunbeam as he shook Joffrey. He lowered the horn as he took a gulp of air, cursing the storm as a bit of sand entered his mouth. He ducked with the sunbeam behind the wagon, trying to hear him over the shrieking of the sandstorm.

He realized with a start it was his camp aid, Loh. "What is it Sunbeam?!" he asked before taking a quick peek up to look at the left most skirmishing circle again.

"Shit… ORANGE SECTION! WITH ME NOW!" he shouted as he stood and ran to the northern perimeter, dragging Loh with him.

"Captain's Shah and Xon-Mi are on the South side sir, they request orders!" his aide shouted as both him and Joffrey slammed against the sides of the wagons, crates and carts that served as the northern 'wall' of the inner perimeter.

He could see legionaries running towards the inner perimeter and getting sabered in the back by Camel Tribe raiders, their bloodied, curved swords reaping horrifying harvests of blood and flesh that quickly dissipated into the storm. The sparse arrows from the few scouts on the northern perimeter no deterrents for the slaughter. Most of the ones manning the line were dead, riddled with arrows.

"ORANGE SECTION! COVERING ARROWS!" he shouted as the scouts from the 17th's Orange Section reached him, jumping behind carts and bodies. The extra bows took out many of the most adventurous camel raiders, making them fallback in haste as the surviving legionaries reached the relative safety of the inner perimeter.

Joffrey stood up despite the occasional strays that peppered his position, frowning as he watched the retreating raiders. He looked back, serenely surveying the other parts of the inner perimeter.

They've smelled blood here, they'll try to break the north.

"Loh" he said as he grabbed the Sunbeam by the shoulder, "Get Captain Sabu and his Rangers here, tell him they'll try to break through the north!" he shouted at his face, willing his voice to be heard over the sandstorm.

"Aye sir!" he saluted quickly before dashing back.

He pivoted back, relentlessly scanning the horizon in search of the dreaded charge.

He strained against the wind, squinting as the sand pounded his face and the sparse arrows stopped landing near the perimeter altogether.

"Sir… is it over?" asked one of the men, lowering his bow slightly.

Joffrey kept squinting, one hand on his saber while the other grasped the wagon's tail wheel. He spotted a single rider, emerging from the sandstorm as he pumped his saber.

"No… but it will be one way or another soon enough…" he said, a calm peace taking over as he saw the rider slash his saber forward. Dozens of camel raiders emerged from behind him, wielding sabers and light leather shields.

Joffrey raised his arm, holding his saber high, "PICK YOUR TARGETS, GUT THE CAMELS!" he shouted, the sandstorm making his grey cloak swirl behind him.

The scouts rose as one, aiming and nocking their bows.

Wait…

Wait....

Wait...….

"LOOSE AT WILL!!!" he shouted, slashing down with his saber. The range was optimal and it showed, the accurate rain of arrows felling men and camels all over the outer perimeter of the camp, but they weren't stopping.

Only one faction would emerge from this battle.

"PREPARE TO RECEIVE CAMELRY!!!!" Joffrey roared over the chorus of thungs, pitching his voice to carry. He braced himself against the wagon as the camels approached, a veritable tide intent on smashing the small circle, crazed by the prospect of supplies.

The sound of rending wood and smashed flesh consumed all other sounds of battle as Joffrey crashed against the sandy ground, bodies and camels falling all around him. He struggled to get up, letting himself fall again as he spotted a dismounted raider trying to cut his head off. He felt the saber cut a small wound in his nape before he leapt up with a roar and tackled the man, tumbling through the sand and the melee. Joffrey lost his saber in the struggle, trying to stop the man from gutting him with his dagger. He batted the small dagger away and punched the man in the nose before he reciprocated with a wild fist to Joffrey forehead, making him see shimmers in between the sandstorm.

He closed his hands on the man's neck where his protective scarf had been lost, squeezing with all his strength. The Camel Tribe raider tried to get him off, struggling to lift Joffrey's hands from his neck and punching his head repeatedly when he failed to move him.

The raider looked just as desperate as Joffrey, and starved to boot. They were most likely fleeing from the same danger, and the prospect of food and supplies had been too much for the tribe to ignore, most likely.

Joffrey kept squeezing and squeezing, panting with ragged breathing. After an eternity, the man seemed to slump slowly, ever so slowly as his head descended upon the ground and stayed still.

He stood up, using a nearby upside down cart as support. He grabbed his head as he saw Captain Sabu's Rangers flanking the raiders from the side and reaping a bloody harvest. That was too much for the raiders, breaking almost at once as the heavily armored Ranger's of the 4th slammed into their flank. The other scouts had taken their bows out again and were planting arrows on the backs of the fleeing camel raiders.

"Captain Sabu! Take command and make sure they don't come back!" he shouted at his armored Captain before dashing to the south side. There he found Xon-Mi and Shah, taking cover behind some supply crates and fiddling over a small two wheeled cart no larger than a big dog.

He jumped down to them just as the crate to their side was tossed backwards with impossible force, showering a couple of scouts with splinters and a spread of heavy bolts. Joffrey peeked through the hole the attack left in the inner peremeter and saw the form of the sturdy carriage, swiveling its small contraption to his left. The heavy wooden shield that covered it was peppered with arrows, but they didn't seem to have caused any damage.

"That Camel Ballista is tearing us to pieces, tell me you have something Xon-Mi" he said as he turned back to his officers.

"We're working on it!" Captain Xon-Mi grunted as he too peeked through the hole. He turned back and received a harried looking Wooden-Iron Tworay, who carried a stubby, fat tube the size of his arm with a golden, twisting dragon painted on its end.

"A coiling dragon?! You told me they were like throwing dice!" Joffrey exclaimed as Xon-Mi, Shah and the Tworay loaded it on the small wooden cart. "You have a better idea?!" Xon-Mi shouted back as they placed it on the small cart and attached a string to it.

Joffrey could see the discarded tubes of previous attempts, all scattered around the cart. They were too far away to score a meaningful hit with the incredibly inaccurate weapon… they needed to get closer without the damned ballista turning them into shreds.

Joffrey took a deep breath before grabbing a bow from the hand of a fallen scout. "I'm going to distract him, you two get the 'dragon closer while its focused on me and blow it back to whatever damned sandy shithole it came from!" he ordered them, leaving no place for doubts as he peeked once more.

"Ready?!" he shouted back.

There was silence for two seconds before Xon-Mi shouted back, "Ready!"

Joffrey leapt like a tiger, dashing in a zigzag pattern and unleashing small eruptions of grey sand behind him as he ran towards the Camel Ballista's rough north west. The stubby ballista peeked through the featureless wooden shield as it turned, following him as he kept running and loosing useless arrows at the cart… They couldn't ignore the flanking menace that the madman running towards them represented.

The strangled kchick reached him a moment before the arrows. He jumped and rolled on the hard sand, hearing the sibilant whispers of the bolts flying or slamming into the sand all around him.

He jumped back after the roll and cursed when he saw the wagon move. He was now parallel to them and he could see the whips that emerged from the wagon's front franticly spurring the camels to move.

I have to take down its mobility or we'll have to do this all over again, Joffrey thought quickly as he let his knees fall and let his momentum slide him forward, quickly aiming his bow and planting an arrow on the lead camel's skull. That set the other camels in a panic, but the ballista was now swiveling towards the nearby dune to the other side where he could see Xon-Mi and his man aiming the 'dragon atop the cart at close range.

Nonononononono

"OVER HERE!!!" he screamed as he let loose arrow after arrow, killing the rest of the camels, but the ballista continued its traverse towards Xon-Mi, undeterred.

"XOOON-MIII!!!" Joffrey screamed just as a puff of smoke erupted from the dune and a shrieking projectile from the hells itself flew in a whirling pattern towards the carriage.

THPSTHuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

The coiling dragon slammed itself right into the wagon's front wheel before obliterating itself in a brilliant, orange explosion, tossing the wagon's smoky remains to the side. It tumbled three times over before it stayed still, small wisps of smoke lazily crawling out of its interior.

Joffrey ran towards it, arrow ready as he arrived to its side. He saw the mangled, still body of a Camel Tribe warrior half leaning out from the hole the explosion had left on the carriage, along with the smell of cooked flesh and rivers of blood.

Joffrey lowered his bow with an exhausted sight, looking to his side and seeing Xon-Mi and his Tworay descending towards him.

"By the Night Lion Joffrey… that has to be one of the most insane stunts I have ever seen…" said Xon-Mi as he reached him, patting him in the back as he gazed at the wrecked Camel Ballista.

"Motto of my life Captain" Joffrey said with another sight as he grabbed Xon-Mi by the shoulder, glad he was still alive. The sandstorm had decreased in intensity by a bit, improving visibility.

Joffrey turned back towards his disheveled camp, "What a mess… We should be fighting the reanimated, not amongst ourselves…" he said as he shook his head. Poisoning the water wells had been a stroke of genius for the enemy commander, assuming he had ways to hydrate his living forces… the lack of water turned even the best of allies into desperate gamblers, and the Legion and the Camel Tribes had been far, far from allies…

"We should--"

"WATCH OUT JOFFR--!" suddenly screamed Xon-Mi as he tackled him, ending his warning with a gurgle. Joffrey rolled on the ground in a sloppy water recovery, stumbling over the sand before placing an arrow on a bloodied camel tribe archer that stood over the upside down wagon a mere ten meters away.

The archer fell on the sand with a muffled thump as he turned back.

"Xon… Oh Gods…" Joffrey muttered as he saw the arrow on Xon-Mi's neck, blood coming out of the wound like a fountain.

"YOU!" he roared at the Tworay that was now confirming Joffrey's kill, cutting the wounded raider's throat. "GO GET A BODY SCRIBE! NOW!" he shouted before turning back to Xon-Mi and kneeling beside the Captain.

"Hold on… Hold on Xon-Mi…" Joffrey muttered desperately as he put pressure on the wound and the Captain coughed even more blood, his dazed eyes focusing on Joffrey. The diagnosis was automatic as it was unconscious… the Captain was, for all intent and purposes, a dead man.

His breathing kept getting more erratic as blood filled his lungs, but Xon-Mi found one last burst of strength to grab a hold of both of Joffrey's forearms in an iron grip.

He couldn't speak, but Joffrey could see his lips moving.

He felt a deep anguish as he read what the struggling Captain was trying to say… a desperate request repeated over and over again as the blood kept sliding down his neck and his eyes bored into Joffrey, pleading.

"Y-Y-Yes…" Joffrey said as he felt his throat clench, "W-We'll burn the body, we'll burn the body Xon-Mi…" he said as he grabbed him by the shoulders, keeping him close. The Captain seemed to find that answer satisfying, his arms suddenly falling limp as he leaned back on the dune, closing his eyes with a final sight.

Joffrey kept him close for a while, breathing raggedly.

"Sir!" shouted a man from his side as he stopped running, one of the few surviving Body Scribes from his formation.

Joffrey swallowed once more before speaking, "Gather… gather all the wood from the wrecked wagons… prepare a pile…" he ordered, still staring at Xon-Mi's body. He realized the Captain had been holding something on his hand, a bit of scrapped bronze.

Scrapped bronze tipped with obsidian.

"Godsdamnit Xon…" he muttered as he held him close. "I would have come back Xon-Mi… I would have come back…" he whispered, willing himself to stand back up and get back to the camp.

Because he was sure Xon-Mi had not been the only one to give his life this day.

-.PD.-

The beleaguered supporting formation could have broken into a sprint if not for the iron discipline that the Beyond had imprinted upon them… or if they hadn't been so tired.

Kohl's Refuge was a small oasis surrounded by the remains of a low earthen rampart that protected a tiny, abandoned village. Joffrey's heart almost gave out when he saw the Legion's banners flying from the rampart, but he knew something was wrong the moment not a single rider came to greet them.

The wary, battle hardened survivors of the supporting formation slowly marched through the big hole in the middle of the rampart. They had to toss to the sides two upside down wagons that had been covering it before they could march through.

And the bodies…

No…

The tiny village was full of them, both unmoving wights and dead legionaries. It was obvious a massive battle had taken place here, and Joffrey felt his mouth hanging wide open as he gazed upon the remains of the Expedition.

"Major!" one of his Threerays said. "Smoke! Over there!" he said as he pointed towards the village center.

Joffrey spurred his fatigued horse forward along with the formation's van as he followed the smoke. He arrived soon enough and was greeted with the sight of huge bonfires, being fed bodies by men clad in the now damaged, characteristic bamboo overarmor of the 22nd Iron Guards.

The men looked even more weary and exhausted than Joffrey's, but when they looked up at him and his van a spark seemed to light up in their eyes.

"Its.. ITS THEM!!! THEY'RE BACK!" shouted one.

"IT'S THE SILVER LION!!! THE SILVER LION IS BACK!" shouted another one.

A dull, weary roar of joy went up as Joffrey and his men entered the village center, whose tumbled down houses and wrecked wagons served as some kind of makeshift barricade.

Joffrey dismounted and was promptly hugged by men from the 22nd, the sheer joy at seeing their brothers alive again overpowering them.

Joffrey grabbed one who seemed coherent enough, bringing him in close and shouting in his ear, "Where's the General?!" he shouted.

The budding crowd was suddenly very, very quiet.

"…Where is General Yu?" he asked again.

-.PD.-

Captain Biju's bright red overarmor had seen better days. Barely a scrap of bamboo was left, showing the metal lamellar he wore beneath it. The Captain of the 22nd Iron Guards looked even more weary than his men, exhausted both morally and physically. To his side stood Major Yham, his head full of cuts, bites and bandages.

Both of them stood to the sides of General Yu's bed, looking solemn and stiff as metal rods.

They were what was left of the Expedition's high command.

"General" Joffrey said as he kneeled on the floor of the tent, now level with the General as he placed a fist over his heart.

General Yu was but a shadow of what he'd once been. His now thin chest was partly covered in bandages, and the smell of rot and infection flooded the tent.

His eye though… his eye shone with a determination Joffrey had never seen before, as if all his remaining willpower had been consolidated for this one moment.

"Find… answers?" The Night Hawk asked, haltingly.

Answers…

Joffrey took a deep breath before lowering his head in shame, "…Some… The cultists and the corpses definitively share an important connection, though we are not certain as to which… obsidian seems to do something to either the corpses or the magic behind them…"

He was still for a great while, so long Joffrey had thought he'd drifted to sleep again.

Suddenly, the General grabbed Joffrey's shoulder with one arm as he took out the string that was tied around his neck with the other. It held the Scout's Horn, a black, small horn no bigger than his hand, flanked on both sides by two clear gems. He placed it on Joffrey's hand before he slowly took out one of the golden rimmed suns from his uniform and gave it to him.

"Give… this… to… Jin… May he serve… the Scouts… through dawn… and… dusk…" he muttered.

"I will sir" Joffrey said after swallowing, understanding the meaning behind it as he took them.

Colone—no… General Jin will lead the Scouts now…

He was standing up when Yu's hand suddenly clamped down on his again, passing something else to his hand.

He looked at his hand, which trembled slightly. It was another one of the General's gold trimmed iron suns.

Yu seemed to gather the last of his strength as he leaned forward slightly, staring right at Joffrey as he squeezed his arm with all of his faltering strength.

"End this… Colonel… End this before they consume the world itself…" he said before slumping back, gritting his teeth in pain at the exertion before falling into blessed sleep again.

Joffrey gazed at his trembling hand, the dying words of his superior resonating inside his head again and again.

The trembling stopped, and Joffrey squeezed the sun in his hand tightly.

"I will…" he whispered.

-.PD.-

The General died the next night, and as the expedition slowly prepared itself for its return home, illuminated by the burning pyre that had been their leader and commander, Joffrey nodded once more.

"One week Captain Biju, one week at Gurhem's Vale and no more. With so many of the men gone… the supplies should last you that and much more, and the Returned will hopefully never find you there" he told the Captain of the 22nd Iron Guards.

"I'll wait there one week for you, and then bring the news and the obsidian to the legion" the burly Captain confirmed the order below the light of the burning fire.

"Joffrey… please reconsider this madness, you will achieve nothing!" said Jhos, exasperated.

"If there's even a one percent chance that killing Vahram will end this… then I will end it one way or the other… besides, if there's a place left in the Beyond which will have some kind of answer… it will be K'Dath" Joffrey said, staring at the horizon for a moment before clasping Jhos's back. "Take care of the men, make sure they reach the Greytower alive if I don't make it back" he said.

Jhos sighted deeply before nodding, "I will" he said before saluting.

Joffrey nodded back before getting on one of the small, covered wagons that had not been turned into wooden kindling.

It was loaded with enough firepowder to blow a half a dozen taverns to kingdom come, including shrieking, shadowy cultists inside them.

He rode it out Kohl's Refuge slowly, carefully avoiding the legionnaires who stopped whatever they were doing and saluted, the weariness evaporating as soon as they saw him as they stood ramrod straight.

He was about to leave the earthen rampart behind when a he noticed another wagon was blocking the way.

"You may have convinced Sabu and Jhos… and outright intimidated Hu with that shiny new sun… but everyone knows the Long Scouts never did respect authority in quite the same way…" said Captain Shah as with an easy smile.

He was on the driver's seat, right next to Major Yham… who sported a look that seemed outright dangerous, just begging him to say no.

He saw another six men climbing the same wagon, all covered in rags and cloaks, indistinguishable from the many other travellers of the Beyond.

"I.. Ah… I…" Joffrey struggled to find an answer that would not make him a hypocrite.

He found he couldn't.

"Fine" he grumbled as another man took the driver's position on his own wagon.

And just like that, Joffrey's suicide mission towards the feared city of K'Dath was expanded to accommodate another nine men.

-.PD.-

The long line of carriages and refugees was a sight that constantly baffled Joffrey. As the line kept moving and the grey bricked walls of K'Dath kept getting bigger and bigger along with his mounting sense of dread, Joffrey puzzled again over the hundreds, thousands of men, woman and children slowly entering the city.

It was with a start that he realized the people were not refugees.

They were pilgrims.

The two wagons that carried their strike team looked like any other. Dirty and worn down, but they hid both a group of some of the most tenacious men Joffrey had ever met and an explosive surprise. Hopefully, the complete lunacy of turning back and attacking now would work in his favor, it was, to his mind, a completely unexpected plan…

The huge, grey walls of K'Dath loomed over as they passed below the portcullis. They followed the rest of the pilgrims, many of which had stopped to pray or cry as they kissed the floor in joy.

Joffrey had dozens of plans all geared towards bypassing any complications they might meet at the gatehouse, but he was shocked to find no one searching or interrogating the pilgrims. In fact, the wall hardly seemed manned. Only the two towers that flanked the gatehouse and presumably controlled the portcullis showed any signs of activity, grey robed men and women who silently peered down at the great mob that surged into the city.

Cultists… Joffrey thought with a shiver as he covered a wisp of his hair under the grey loak.

No amount of cloaks could contain his mounting sense of dread however. The hair at the back of Joffrey's neck stood on edge as he gazed upon the dread city of K'Dath.

He could see great, massive stone pyramids that rose to the heavens, grey stepped behemoths that lumbered over the streets and squares like titans of a bygone era, casting long shadows that seemed to leave the city in perpetual darkness as they blocked almost every bit of sunlight, so tall and numerous they were.

Joffrey could see them everywhere, everywhere he looked. The people, pilgrims, were converging on the huge plazas that surrounded them, just sitting and… waiting.

He stopped the carriage in a nearby alleyway, jumping off quickly as the one behind him carrying the firepowder stopped too.

Godsdamnit… it doesn't make sense! Why leave their Capital so unguarded?!

"Something's wrong… " he whispered to the tarp as he lounged on the carriage's side, eying the streets as they gradually emptied.

"Are they unto us?" came Yham's voice from the inside. As much as he'd wanted to come alone, he was glad he had the fearsome Dark Rhino himself at his side.

"I don't think so… but they're doing something, something important… a speech or a sermon maybe…" Joffrey said as he kept looking to both ends of the alley.

"I'm going in for a quick reconnaissance, stay near the gatehouse" he said.

Two knocks gave him the answer as he nodded to himself and walked out of the alleyway as just another pilgrim.

As he walked, Joffrey could see the people, both residents and new arrivals just walking out and joining the crowds, sitting in front of the nearest pyramids. Entire families awaited below the shadows as if preparing to hear the greatest preacher that had ever been born, filling the vast grey plazas in silence.

Joffrey walked towards the big hill in the middle of the city that seemed to dwarf even the pyramids in height. The streets were near deserted when he reached it, and he felt awfully exposed with not another soul in sight.

He suddenly realized the hill that dominated the city was not in fact a hill, but the greatest of the pyramids. The grey stepped monstrosity emerged as if organically from the grey bricked plaza around it, rising into the air to tower over all others, a structure bigger than Aegon's hill… though no crowd had assembled here.

He gulped as he took in the sight.

If Varham is anywhere in this godsforsaken city… it will be here…

He hoarded every scrap of courage he had as he started ascending the steps. Every five seconds he would stop and gaze at the rest of the pyramid or the city below, but he couldn't see anyone who was not congregating around the 'smaller' pyramids.

He kept going up the stairs, the wind and a chill in his neck making him go faster and faster. Soon the hairs on his arms were standing on edge too, and Joffrey could feel something monumental approaching as his quick walk turned into a sprint, climbing the eternal steps three at a time.

He ran as the chorus of the crowds around the pyramids was reduced to a dull roar, as the sun slowly hid beyond the horizon to the West.

He took out his saber as he reached the final steps, some indescribable feeling overpowering his senses and making him run at a dead sprint towards the doors.

The double stone doors were five meters tall and three wide. They seemed to be the only way inside the great building that crowned the pyramid, and they were wide open.

Joffrey dashed past them, entering some kind of cathedral full of rectangular stone benches, benches that stretch throughout the building… until they reached some sort of altar.

Sitting right before it was a man clad in simple grey robes no different from the ones Joffrey had seen cultists wear. The man though… he was no simple cultist. There was something about him that made Joffrey's stomach curl and his hands shake.

Joffrey stopped immediately, cursing his stupidity and the strange feeling that was metaphorically screaming at his ear as he pivoted to his right and ducked behind a pillar.

The man did not move however. He appeared to be as still as a statue, facing the altar.

Joffrey approached slowly, trying to understand what was happening around the city as he fingered his hidden dagger with the other hand. It was poisoned with the deadliest concoction Shah had ever devised, enough to kill an elephant in a torrent of pure agony.

He walked quietly, barely making a sound as he glided from pillar to pillar. He was barely a dozen meters away from the man when he suddenly turned back and gazed right at Joffrey.

------

His face did not differ greatly from the general Yi-Tish stock, brown, slanted eyes and a single ponytail that reached to his hip, leaving the rest of his head shaved clean.

"A bit far away from home little sun, aren't you?" he asked, his tone conversational. His voice was light and serene as he gazed at Joffrey with a satisfied smile.

Joffrey felt his heart hammering inside of him like the most obvious gong in the world.

The one behind it all… If I can get to him…

Joffrey slowly walked from behind the pillar, waving his saber threateningly as he slowly walked towards him, trying to keep the cultist's eyes on the obvious weapon as he prepared to throw the poisoned dagger.

"Vahram, is it? You have killed quite a lot of my friends…" Joffrey said, trying to keep him engaged as he kept walking slowly.

"That is my name… and you will get to meet your friends soon enough… All will be quiet soon, all will be peace…" Vahram said, his sincerity shining through his voice as he turned back to look at the dozens of stone benches which also surrounded the altar.

He kept advancing, wary of a trap as the man left his back exposed. Suddenly Joffrey dashed forward, slamming a knee into his leg as he grabbed him by the back of his neck, leaving him kneeled with the poisoned dagger right at his throat.

"Stop it! Stop the ritual now!" Joffrey roared, an eye blink away from gutting him like a pig.

"…ritual?" Varham asked, apparently confused and not struggling at all as Joffrey held him.

"Ritual… a… ritual… you've really… you've really got no idea do you…?" Varham said, an incipient chuckle starting to emerge deep within his throat.

"Stop the corpses or you'll be joining them right now!" Joffrey bellowed as he drew blood.

"You've really got no idea do you?!" said Varham as he laughed, as if Joffrey had told him the funniest thing in the world.

He kept laughing and laughing, shaking with mirth.

"Do you want to know the truth of this world, young soldier?" he said as he suddenly stopped laughing. "Do you want to know the answer?" he asked in a whisper.

Joffrey's hand were shaking as he held Varham by the neck, his sharp dagger cutting bits of the man's neck accidentally… though the Grand Whisper didn't seem to care.

Varham's voice dropped to a low whisper, his voice filled with relish and restrained joy like a child with a big secret.

"The Cycle begins anew young soldier… driven by forces far, far beyond the ken of mortal understanding… they come at last, to repeat once again their ancient duty… like they always have, like they always will…" Varham whispered as the ground itself seemed to shake. Joffrey heard dozens of dull thumps coming from all around him, multiplying by the second.

"They are beyond our control… they are beyond our understanding…" Varham said in a trance, as if reciting from memory.

Thump-thump-thump-thump

Joffrey swiveled his head from side to side, looking at the stone benches that surrounded the altar as they kept rattling and thumping.

"They are beyond ourselves... They are here…" Varham said with joyful smile as the thumping and rattling expanded all along the hall.

They're not benches… they're tombs… Joffrey thought as he dropped Varham, trembling as he took a step back, his mind paralyzed.

"A TIME OF RENEWAL!!!" Varham shouted in joy as the stone tombs all around the altar started to collapse, revealing old, ancient bones which shrieked as they tried to get out.

Gods…

"A TIME OF DESTRUCTION!!!" Varham roared as Joffrey started running through the cathedral back towards the entrance. All the coffins arrayed over the cathedral were rattling and thumping now, their dull noise getting louder and louder as Joffrey ran past them and the corridor seemed to stretch to infinity, as something made its presence known.

Oh Gods…

"A TIME OF REBIRTH!!!" Varham shrieked in joy as the first wights shambled out of their coffins near the altar, dashing towards Varham.

He's just a fanatic, he's just a tool…

"AND MY PREDESESORS RETURN AT LAST! TO MAKE ME ONE MORE! TO TOGETHER BE REBORN!!!" Varham shrieked as the corpses jumped at him, tearing and biting and butchering him.

All around him Joffrey could see coffins bursting open and releasing wights as he kept running and running and running towards the slowly dying light beyond the entrance.

"YO-U C-CANT RUN!!!" bellowed Varham from the altar as he was tore apart. "YOU CANT RUN FROM FATE YOUNG SOLDIER!!! NO ONE CAN--!!!" he shrieked before his speech was suddenly cut off with a gurgle.

Joffrey left the cathedral at a dead sprint, only slowing down slightly as he got to the stairs and started going down as fast as he could.

He started hyperventilating when he saw shambling, shrieking mobs of corpses emerging from the pyramids all over the city, tearing into the crowds that had assembled in the plazas around the temples.

They aren't temples… they're cairns… tombs filled with the corpses of hundreds and hundreds of generations, he thought, taking in a breath every half second as he kept descending through the open air stairs and feeling goose bumps rushing all throughout his body.

He could see the great stepped cairns releasing swarms upon swarms of undead, feasting on the flesh of everyone in the plazas, everyone in the city…

Oh Gods, Oh Gods, Oh Gods, Oh Gods---

He could hear screams of joy and pain, gurgles and scuffles as he ran through the streets, a sound from the hells themselves. He saw swarms of undead wights filling side streets and alleyways, butchering every living thing in their path… even animals.

After an eternity of running he arrived at the gates, almost collapsing from exhaustion when he saw the two wagons from his strike team already there.

"Colonel Joffrey! Thank the Gods-!" started one of his men.

"THEY'RE RIGHT BEHIND ME!" Joffrey roared as he finally got to the portcullis.

The closed portcullis.

"WHY ARE THE GATES CLOSED?!" Joffrey shouted at Shah, who was hacking at the tower's wooden door with a hand axe like a man possessed along with another soldier.

"The cultists manning it dropped the portcullis without warning and barred the tower's doors! We're trying to get in now!" Shah shouted back as he hacked at the door with all his strength.

We are all going to die and become wights…

"There's no time! By the gods Shah there's no time!" Joffrey said as he desperately looked around the area. He could see a mob of undead coming for them through the main street far behind them, still a fair distance away but closing in fast.

He spotted one of the team's wagons, the one filled with every bit of firepowder he'd managed to pry from what was left of the 12th Flying Artillery.

"Take that one!" he roared as he pointed. "Get the wagon beside the portcullis and blow it up! Move damnit!" he said as he dashed towards it and started to push . The horses tied to it had been slain by arrows shot from above, though the cultists manning the gate had not peeked over since Joffrey had arrived at least.

Major Yham and four other legionnaires quickly joined him, cutting the dead horses harnesses and pushing the wagon towards the gate. "Look out! Above!" shouted one of the soldiers when they were halfway through, and Joffrey gazed up.

He saw the cultists leaning over and falling down from the gatehouse, crashing on the ground with dull thumps all around the small strike team.

"What the…" Yham muttered when he saw the dead cultists stand back up again. The reanimated, blue eyed cultists all withdrew the daggers they had jutting out of their chests before charging at them from all directions, shrieking.

"KEEP THE WAGON MOVING! FOR DAWN!" Joffrey bellowed as he charged the nearest one, taking its head off with his saber before impaling another one through the chest. The reanimated cultist kept writhing as he withdrew his saber and cut him down again with a roar. Yham bellowed as he charged and cut another one in two with a brutal, two handed slash.

The men kept moving and defending the wagon with all they had, fighting as the great mobs of undead kept moving towards them and dead cultists kept raining from the skies in one's and two's.

Joffrey cut another wight down as the wagon neared the gatehouse before he turned back to gauge the mob's distance.

And then he saw him, standing less than twenty meters behind him.

Stars above…

He wore some kind of lamellar armor made of ice and chunks of grey rock in a strange pattern that twirled towards the chest plate's center. His knees and pauldrons ended in wickedly sharp ice spikes, and his long sword seemed made entirely out of ice and grey sand.

His head looked shriveled and sunken, sporting a long white hair that almost reached the floor… and his eyes were a deep dark blue that seemed to stare right at Joffrey's soul.

The White Walker seemed to survey them for a brief moment before striding forward, walking at a steady pace towards the Legionnaires of Dawn.

… they intend to consume everything upon this world…

He stared at the White Walker as the distant mob behind it kept advancing and he felt a cold wind that seemed to bite deep into his bones.

Is this my purpose..?

Joffrey felt as if on a cloud as he strode towards the white walker, right hand holding his saber steady as the other drew the only obsidian tipped bronze knuckle Xon-Mi had ever made, a gift from beyond the grave.

The White Walker kept its pace steady as Joffrey's quick walk turned into a jog, wielding the knuckles on his left while holding his saber with the right.

There was no roar or warcry when their swords met, only an ear splitting screech as the White Walker parried before delivering a swift, slashing riposte. Joffrey pivoted to his left feeling the bone numbing frost of the blade as it missed him by a millimeter. He punched the White Walker two times in the ribs with the knuckles, unleashing spurts of steam and an ear shattering keening from the monster itself, which whirled about and delivered two heavy strikes upon Joffrey.

He felt as if the Mountain was pummeling him, such was the being's strength. He parried the first of the lighting blows, but the second…

The second shattered his saber in two.

Joffrey's reflexes screamed as he tried to dodge the sword. He felt the edge of the bone chilling blade cutting through his face before the vision from his right eye was suddenly cut off. His neck tingled as he gave another step backwards, dodging the backblow. The White Walker didn't reposition however, he gave another step forward and slammed Joffrey in the chest with his hand.

He flew backwards with a snap before tumbling through the floor, rolling and smashing against the wagon that had been placed against the portcullis.

He tried to get up, but found his arms couldn't support his weight. He could feel a fierce, cold pain coming from his chest as he raised his head sideways, rivulets of blood coming out from the deep slash on his face and his destroyed eye. He felt as if some primordial heat had taken over his head, a dull, painful ache.

Nakaro's sure hands where at the tiller as he berated a lazy Baleo, the Eastern Winds cutting through another wave.

He saw Yham fighting against the Walker, trying to keep him in place as Shah and another soldier finished setting up the wagon against the portcullis. Joffrey's eye tried to find the discarded brass knuckles, but they were nowhere to be found.

Tyrion chuckled as Joffrey collapsed upon the Umber's table, incapable of holding his liquor.

He drunkenly stood up as the men kept fighting around him, shambling towards the back end of the wagon. He saw the lit fuse steadily approaching the barrels of firepowder as he grabbed one of the stacked coiling dragons, holding it with both hands as he carried the stubby tube out of the wagon.

Jin and the rest of the scouts laughed as Joffrey lost yet again. "You should stick to dice, Joffrey" said Jin, his face full of mirth.

He shambled towards the Walker as it fought against Major Yham, the corpses less than three hundred meters away. Yham and the Walker had pivoted and they were now perpendicular to Joffrey as he kept walking, limping towards the duo.

"Who the fuck ate the chickens?!" bellowed Sandor as he tossed the empty piece of cloth. "It was Jon I swear!" the Imp shouted as he ran from the campfire and Jon spluttered denials.

He aimed the 'dragon by hand, standing less than ten meters away. The Walker shifted again as he delivered a powerful strike upon Yham, breaking his saber before impaling him through the belly with his ice sword.

"You can't run from fate young soldier, no one can…" Varham said as he was tore apart by his predecessors, Grand Whispers from age's past.

The Dark Rhino snarled as blood came out of his mouth and he dropped the broken saber, grabbing the Walker's sword hand with both of his. He screamed as his hands froze, pulling his pierced stomach deeper into the icy blade as he crept closer to the Walker, making himself a dead weight and pinning the Walker in place.

"DOOOOOO IIIIIIIIIIIT!!!" he roared at Joffrey.

"But, Joffrey… What is a different song if not a sequence of changed keys?" Sansa asked him, the gentle winds making the leaves sway around her.

Joffrey did not have the string nor the launch cart, but he flicked the small lever on the back of the 'dragon all the same. He unleashed a torrent of sparks for two seconds as the firepowder inside the golden dragon took its time to ignite completely. Joffrey screamed as the fire burned his right arm to a crisp, but he held it steady all the same, aiming it at the abomination which seemed intent on devouring the world itself.

And then the 'Dragon ignited properly, launching itself from Joffrey's arm like a terrier following a rat, flying with a with a deafening, god's defying roar right towards the White Walker as it finally disentangled it's sword from the Dark Rhino.

THPSTUUUUUUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

The explosion slapped Joffrey as if he were a mere toy, sending him flying back as his arm screamed and the world itself seemed to end.

Darkness claimed him before he crashed against the ground.

-.PD.-

"I think that if you can't find the worth of living on outside of yourself, then you have to search inside of you" Ned said, looking thoughtful.

Joffrey stared with mildly unfocused eyes, his head resting on the Weirwood's strong trunk as Ned spoke once again. "You have to learn, to find a deep respect for yourself. Not a kind of arrogance, but an understanding that you are who you are, and that only you have the means to change yourself" Eddard said.

----

"—offrey… Joffrey! JOFFREY!!!" bellowed Shah, right on his face.

Joffrey blinked slowly, watching the wagon's interior as it tumbled again and again, almost as if the horses that drove it were galloping. A small oil lamp hanged from the small wooden beam that bisected the roof's enter, swaying lightly.

"WHAT ARE YOU?! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?!?" he heard a voice unside his head scream as if from a great distance, a muffled echo.

The wagon suddenly stopped, "We can do it here!" came the voice of someone outside.

"Joffrey, Joffrey listen to me" Shah said as he approached from his left side, coming into focus.

"We need to amputate your right arm right now or the rot will set in… We need to do it now or you'll die… do you understand Joffrey? Joffrey?!" he seemed frantic as another soldier emerged into his reduced field of view, carrying a short saw and looking shaken.

If I say no… the pain will soon be over… If I abandon them… it will all be over…

Joffrey could see his room in the Red Keep, beckoning. A quiet, warm realm where he could be the spoiled prince, the brat that ordered the servants around.

A realm where he could be the boy.

His wavering eye seemed to focus on Shah again, razor sharp. He struggled to speak, something sticky trying to close his throat tight.

He coughed weakly, still staring at Shah like a loaded ballista.

"D-d-d…" he whispered before coughing again.

He took a harrowing breath, his chest burning in pain as it expanded.

"Colonel? Joffrey?" Shah asked as he leaned close, trying to hear him.

"Dh..Dho…" Joffrey closed his eye for a second before shouting.

"DO IIIIT!!!..." He bellowed weakly, his voice strangled and distorted to his ears.

Shah looked at the soldier with the saw and nodded. The soldier lowered his saw as he crouched beside him, but Joffrey quickly lost sight of him as he entered the unknown penumbra that used to be lighted up by his right eye.

Joffrey was breathing quickly, his mangled right arm tingling in agonizing anticipation.

"Colonel" Shah said as he crouched again, his hands holding a bit of cut rope. "Be brave sir… be brave for the small flames… Be brave for the living…" he said, grabbing his other arm as the rope approached his mouth.

Joffrey opened his mouth and bit the length of rope with all the strength he had left as another soldier grabbed a hold of his legs.

"'They are the masters of their fate'" recited Shah as he felt a harrowing agony enveloping his right arm.

"mmmmMMMMMMMMMPHHHHH!!!" Joffrey screamed. It was vaguely audible, muffled by the rope.

"'They are the watchers of stars'" Shah said as the pain seemed to multiply somehow, a white, all-encompassing mantle of agony that spread throughout his whole body as if all his nerves were firing up at the same time. He was shaking wildly, his muscles screaming as they tried to move in any direction…

"mmMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPHHHHHHH!!!!!!" he screamed.

Joffrey focused on Shah's face as the rest of the wagon seemed to fall into darkness, a void which swallowed everything else.

He could hear Shah's voice steadily losing volume, dissipating to nothing along with the rest of his sight.

"'They are the ones who stand in vigil…'" he heard, echoing distantly as if said from the deepest cavern…

-.PD.-

"WHAT ARE YOU?!" he heard a distant, disheveled voice shouting.

"The masters of their fate…" he heard another one say, serene and determined.

"Every great beauty needs a watcher, someone to gaze and sit in awe, someone to give it meaning…" he heard another voice, wry and wise.

"An understanding deep within you… you are who you are…" he heard another one say, warm and caring.

"WWWWHUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!" roared another voice, exalted and happy, triumphant and determined as the cold wind blew and the world beckoned beyond all around him.

Joffrey's eye flickered open. He could feel the wagon moving, accompanied by the vague backdrop of a distant sandstorm, a light skimming of wind and sand that constantly pelted the wood around him.

He saw Shah sitting by his side as the wagon moved lazily, seated next to a wounded soldier from the 22nd.

We have rejoined the rest of the expedition then… he thought sluggishly. He'd had something very important he was going to tell Shah…

What had it been..?

"Shah…" he croaked.

"Joffrey" said his Captain, snapping off from his light doze as he looked at him.

What had it been?

"Shahh… My Banner…" he strained to say.

"We made the new one a few nights ago, it has three suns now instead of two" Shah said, trying to calm him as he crouched to his level and checked his bandages.

"N… Nho… sigil… silver lion standing… upon mountain…" he mumbled.

"You decided upon your sigil?" Shah asked him with a slight smile, a smile that turned alarmed when he saw something on Joffrey's chest.

"The silver lion… it's gazing up" Joffrey mumbled as Shah beckoned another soldier to come and they did something to his chest.

"Shah..!" he struggled to speak as he grabbed him with his left arm, the only one he could feel right now.

His Captain stopped as the other soldier and a Body Scribe kept working on him, their whispers and orders becoming more frantic by the second.

"It gazes up! Up to a… vast… a vast field of stars… Shah…" Joffrey whispered, feeling so cold he could barely speak.

"A silver lion atop a mountain, looking up to a vast field of stars, I understand Joffrey, I understand" Shah said as he grabbed Joffrey's hand, holding it tight.

"Every… great.. beauty… needs a… watcher…" Joffrey whispered as he felt himself slip beyond the wagon, slowly floating up as his eye grew heavy.

-.PD.-

He awoke to the wild shrieking of a sandstorm, a whirlwind of fury and despair that seemed to encompass everything around him. Joffrey was bundled in blankets in the middle of the sand, and he struggled to focus on a vague blob in front of him.

The shape of the cart he had been riding on slowly took shape, but it was somehow tilted. Joffrey realized the axels had broken, and he could see a few soldiers moving crates and supplies from it to another one.

He tried to stand up but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Don't worry sir, they'll come and get you in a moment" said a Threeray who was crouched by his side, ineffectively trying to shield him from the storm.

"Help… help me up…" Joffrey told him, struggling against the blankets. His soldiers needed him.

"It's alright sir, they'll come s--"

"Help me up Threeray" he commanded, looking at him serenely as a strange peace seemed to envelop him like a mantle.

The soldier obeyed by instinct, helping Joffrey out of the blankets and supporting him as he stood up.

"Go help them" he commanded as he walked back, following the trail of soldiers as he was propelled by some unknowable force, a certainty that compelled him to walk.

I'm not leaving anyone behind, he thought as he trundled through the storm, vaguely even feeling the sand as it slammed against him. He was wearing bits and bobs of his armor and a heavy scarf which trailed behind him along with his old, battered grey cloak.

He saw the lines of legionnaires shambling through the storm, huddled against each other as they tried to make way through the fierce gusts of wind which attacked them with no warning, fighting off the cold and the sand that seemed to strike with unnatural force. Joffrey felt some sort of indescribable will lighting up deep inside him when he looked at them.

Their postures straightened up when they saw him, some shaking their heads and looking at him again as Joffrey got to them.

"KEEP MOVING! OUR BROTHERS NEED US AT THE FORTS!!!" he bellowed, trying to focus his eye on them and succeeding somehow.

"SIR!" some bellowed back, while others just saluted, jaws hanging open for whatever reason. They renewed their struggle against the sand and wind with replenished vigor as Joffrey marched past them, scanning his surroundings incessantly.

Joffrey suddenly spotted a lone legionnaire on the ground. He was in a fetal position, rocking slightly under the blows of the wind.

"COME ON SOLDIER!" Joffrey bellowed as he grabbed him by the arm, making him stand up. The man had a vaguely crazed look as he gazed upon Joffrey, fearful and scared… though his look quickly turned stunned as he gazed upon him. "I-I-I-I-I can't sir! P-please l-l-leave m-me here!" he pleaded, shaking as the gusts of wind shrieked and grey sand slammed into his face.

Joffrey thought he was as scared as the Threeray under the unnatural storm, but come sand or snow, gods or magic, White Walkers or Demons of the Night, he knew one thing.

He was not going to leave his brother to the grey beyond.

"KEEP MOVING!!" Joffrey shouted as he stood erect, as if the storm was but an enjoyable breeze, "It's a d-d-demon m-made sand!!! H-H-How sir!?" the scout asked, on the verge of tears as the force of the wind threatened to push him back down.

"ONE STEP AT A TIME SOLDIER!!!" Joffrey bellowed as he trundled forward against the sandstorm, walking steadily and never letting go of the legionnaire's arm. "FOLLOW THE MAN IN FRONT! ONE STEP AT A TIME!!!" he bellowed as he shoved him forward, literally incapable of leaving the man behind him.

"s-ss- sir! YES SIR!" he shouted back, his eyes taking in a determined glint as he stared at his commander for another second.

Joffrey didn't notice as he kept walking back, marching as the sand kept pounding the exposed parts of his face.

He spotted a big wagon that seemed to have stalled, despite being pushed by over ten soldiers. Joffrey recognized it almost immediately… it was the Expedition's Hospital Carriage.

"Sunbeam! What's the problem!" Joffrey asked as he arrived at the back of the group of men, the wagon's back shielding almost nothing as the sand pelted his face.

The Sunbeam took him in in stride, his despair drowning whatever surprise he might have had. "It's stuck Colonel! No matter what we do it's not even swaying! And the men inside are hardly breathing… If we get them out they'll die in minutes!" the Sunbeam shouted back.

"We're not leaving them behind!" Joffrey shouted as he slammed into the men's back, "Legionaries!!! Push!!!" he roared as he struggled to move the men and the dead weight in front of him.

"eeeaaaaAAAHH!" bellowed the men, pushing in force.

The storm seemed to laugh at their efforts as the wagon didn't even move, the gusts shifting direction and slamming into them from the side.

Joffrey shoved the men aside, walking directly to the wagon's rear and trying to hug its back rail. He misjudged and hit his head against it when his right arm failed to grab a hold.

Joffrey tilted his head to the right as far as his neck could go so he could see his arm with his good eye.

Most of his right forearm was gone, leaving a stump that started just a bit before his elbow.

He staggered up, helped by the soldiers around him. There was no one behind them, the confusion wrought by the storm seemed to have left them the last ones in the caravan... Behind the Sunbeam at the back only the grey sand remained.

"Our brothers depend on us!!! Both here and at home!!! Push for your brothers!" he bellowed as he turned back and he pushed with all his strength, using his left shoulder.

"eeeeaaaaAAAAAAARRRRrrr" the men screamed as they slammed into the cart and Joffrey, the cart barely moving at all. Joffrey saw trails of saliva hanging from his mouth as he pushed, feeling his muscles burn as his head got redder and redder.

The books had all spilled to the ground, but Joffrey felt his smile take a vaguely manic turn despite the fact that he was drenched in sweat and bone tired.

"I'm ready" he told the Hound, feeling it deep within him.

He remembered the carvings on the hallway, showing the great army spreading all over the tunnel, over everything.

"PUSH!!!" he bellowed, thinking of his brothers, of Jin in the Greytower, of Valyon in the Dawn Fort.

"mmmhhhaaAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRrrr" roared the men behind him.

He remembered the White Walker, indefatigable as it slew his men, indefatigable as it sought to consume everything.

"PUUUUUUUUSH!!!!!"Joffrey bellowed, pain gradually mounting in his arm and back. He thought of all his friends, people he had grown to love and cherish, people who had showed him the way.

"mmmmmMMHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR!!!!" roared the men as they pushed, the cart unmoving.

"You can't run from fate young soldier… no one can" Varham's last words echoed inside his head, said as if they were the only certainty in this world.

A great gust slammed into them again, tearing off Joffrey's scarf. He felt the nape of his neck being shredded of skin as his face burned, the flurry of grains almost flaying him alive, the storm's roar drowning everything else.

He thought of laughing Tyrion, never late with a jape or a smile. Of Sandor and the wry demeanor he hid beneath his half burnt mask. He thought about Archmaester Perestan and his dreams of copper, of Archmaester Benedict as he constructed artifacts within his mind, of Archmaester Vaellyn as he showed him the stars… He thought of dauntless Nakaro aboard the Eastern Winds, of Baleo's simple companionship and Voqo's antics. He thought of shy Jon and his thoughtful silences which gave way to deep insights. He remembered Art and the rest of the Ib-Wogan's crew, hardy sailors and better friends… He remembered Tommen and his silly cat, Myrcella with her kind eyes. He remembered his mother beyond all the intrigue and the fury, her caring smile and her fierce love.

He thought of beautiful Sansa, of the faraway look she had sometimes when she thought no one was looking. He thought of Ned, the father he'd never had, the father who'd picked up his remains and made them whole again.

"PUUUUSH FOR DAAAWN!!!!" he bellowed, forgetting about everything else. His doubts, his past, his mistakes, all slowly ceased to hold meaning inside his mind for that moment… he struggled against the winds and fate as he pushed.

"mmmmMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!" the men roared their defiance at the sandstorm, at fate, the cart moving just a centimeter forward.

Joffrey took a deep breath, spitting a gobble of blood before taking in as much as air as he could. His chest was burning with pain, and he could feel blood slipping past his bandages.

He remembered the bustling of King's Landing and the calm teachings of Oldtown. He thought about quiet Winterfell and serene Braavos, of mysterious Ibben and fierce Volantis.

He thought of all the people in the world who stood on the edge of a fate worse than death. The maesters and the sages, the mages and the knights, the merchants and the farmers.

The shrieking of the storm seemed to intensify as Joffrey took a half step back.

Fathers, mothers, sons, daughters.

Everyone he had ever met, everyone he had ever hated, everyone he had ever loved.

The small flames that inhabit the expanse…

"PUSH FOR THE LIVIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!!!" he roared as his mind was sheared of anything else but the will to move forward.

"mmmMMMMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!" the men thundered with him as they slammed into the wagon, pushing with their entire being, a chorus of defiance that seemed to drown the storm itself, a roar of hope and determination.

An open promise, a vow beholden only to themselves. To become the masters of their fate, to watch the stars above and the ground below, to become those that stood in vigil.

The Hospital Wagon moved, propelled by dreams and memories.

Propelled by the promise of a man.

-.PD.-