Song of A Northern Sorcerer

Vayon and Rodrik at least had the good graces to look slightly uneased, but Cat was having none of it apparently. "Ned, he's a stranger, a foreigner. And you not only gave him guest rights but lodging in the guest house! Why?"

"Because he saved Jon's life." Ned answered simply. "Before we could find him, Jon was set upon by eight wildlings in the wolfswood. If not for that man, Jon would be dead, and I would have more than likely lost a few men in an ambush in the woods as well."

"Forgive me, my Lord," Ser Rodrik interjected. "But how could an apparent blind man best eight wildlings in a fair battle? Is it not more likely that he too is a wildling and he turned on the others?"

"The thought had crossed my mind," Ned nodded. "But it is doubtful that he is a wildling. His manner of speech speaks of a learned man. And his accent is completely wrong for a man of the North. And then there is his armor. It's far too well made to belong to a wildling, unless he stole it from a Lord. But even then, I have never seen it's like before. Not even during the Rebellion. But as for how he managed to defeat so many wildlings, I believe that his weapon made up for his apparent lack of sight."

Pulling out the strange hilt that Nox had surrendered to him, Ned placed the weapon on his desk and sat back. "Maester Luwin, I would appreciate your input on this weapon."

With a reverence as if he were being handed a newborn babe, Maester Luwin picked up the metal hilt and began to closely examine it. "This is…most unusual, Lord Stark," Maester Luwin mumbled as his fingers began to delicately trace the intricate patterns that were engraved into the hilt. "It's finely made…I know of no blacksmith capable of making such a piece. I doubt even the Maesters who have forged their links in metallurgy could fully explain this. Yet at the same time, it appears to be nothing more than an artistic hilt without a blade. If you forgive me for asking so, Lord Stark, how is it that you believe that this Nox was able to defeat the wildlings with this?"

Rising from his seat, Ned held out his hand and waited for Luwin to pass the hilt back over. Once he had it in hand, Ned carefully looked the hilt over until he found what he was looking for. When Nox had first demonstrated this weapon to them, Ned had paid close attention to how he manipulated the handle. And after he'd surrendered the hilt to him, Ned spent every night on the trip back to Winterfell trying to figure out how to duplicate what Nox had done. Placing his thumb over the slightly raised portion of the hilt, Ned held it across and away from his body.

The hilt hissed like quenched steel as the blood-red blade of fire extended outwards from the hilt. Luwin, Cat, Vayon and Rodrik were all struck speechless as they recoiled away in surprise, staring at the blade that hummed in air.

"By the gods." Vayon breathed, his eyes as wide as everyone else's as he nearly began to tremble. "What…What manner of sword is that?"

Maester Luwin was the first to overcome his stupor, as he cautiously stepped forward and reached out to take the now existing blade from Ned. "Be careful not to touch the blade." Ned warned as he carefully and slowly handed the weapon back over the Maester. "Nox gave us a demonstration the first morning he was with us. He felled an oak as wide as a grown man with a single, almost effortless, strike."

"How?" Ser Rodrik asked, overcoming his fear as he stepped forward and leant over slightly to better examine the glowing blade along with Maester Luwin. "It doesn't appear to have an edge. How does it cut?"

Maester Luwin didn't say anything, preferring to stay quiet as he slowly moved the blade through the air, taking note of the strange hum the blade emitted as it passed him by. Eventually, Luwin reached out and grabbed a blank piece of parchment from Ned's desk and, after receiving an affirmative nod from Ned, held the parchment just above the blade and then let go.

The parchment was cut in two the moment it passed through the blade, leaving two halves of parchment to fall to ground. Carefully taking the still humming weapon back from Luwin, Ned watched with a curious eye as the Maester leaned over and picked up the two halves of parchment from the floor.

"Most curious," Luwin muttered, examining the cut edge of parchment, which had a distinctive black tint to it. "I do not believe that this blade cuts, at least not in the traditional sense. It…If I had to guess, I would say that the blade burns through whatever it touches. Yet at the same time," holding out his hand, Luwin let his hand rest but a few finger widths away from the dangerous blood-red blade. "There is no heat being emitted from the blade. Incredible. Frozen fire that only exists when called upon…How can such a thing exist?"

It was Cat who answered first. Her already pale skin growing ever paler as her eyes were wide with fear and anxiety as a single word left her lips. "Sorcery."

Ser Rodrik's and Vayon's eyes both sparkled slightly in wonder even as Maester Luwin's narrowed in thought. "I do not believe that to be the case." Luwin muttered, looking conflicted as he visible tried to reason out what he was seeing. "Valyria was the last ember of magic in the world. And when the last of the dragons died out years ago, so too did the last bits of magic."

"Maybe in the south, Maester," Vayon responded quickly, his eyes taking an almost childlike delight. A strange look for the older man. "But this is the North. Magic still lives in the First Men and in the weirwoods."

Having gently taken the weapon back from the distracted Maester, Ned pressed down on the same part of the hilt again and watched as the blade retracted into the hilt and disappeared. "Jon believes Nox to be a sorcerer. Apparently before Nox came upon him, one of the wildlings put an arrow in Jon's leg. However, when we found the two, there was no wound. His clothes were bloodied and there was an arrow sized hole torn into his leggings, but his flesh was unmarred. Jon claimed that Nox used sorcery to heal his wound. And you've seen him move. Despite not having the use of his eyes, he moves with the grace of a skilled tracker. His steps never falter. And he has admitted that while he cannot see in the normal sense, he uses his magic to see for him."

"So, he admits to practicing sorcery!?" Cat nearly screeched. "Ned, you can't let him stay! Think of the influence he will be on our children! He could corrupt them irreversibly with his mere presence!"

Setting the hilt down on his desk, Ned dropped heavily down into his seat. "My decision is final, Cat. He has shown no reason for us to distrust him, magic or no magic. And until he does, and as long as he earns a place here in Winterfell, he will be welcome within these walls. I will not throw him out when he has nowhere to go for something that he 'might' do, Cat. His actions in saving Jon's life has earned him the benefit of the doubt at the very least."

Cat was clearly not happy about his decision, but she knew well enough that once his mind was set that there was no changing his decision. 'Doesn't mean that my bed will be warm for the foreseeable future. But perhaps she will find solace in my next decision.' He thought to himself before speaking once more. "However, I must admit that his arrival and saving of Jon was most…timely. Therefore, until he proves himself fully useful, I want him watched. Discreetly. Vayon, assign a few of the house staff to keep an eye on him. But stress that they are not to interfere with his day to day activities."

Vayon was quick to nod in agreement. "As you wish, my Lord."

"Maester Luwin," Ned continued, turning to the aged Maester. "I know that the discovery of this weapon would be of great interest to the Citadel, however I must ask that for now you do not inform the Citadel of its existence. At least until we gain a better understanding of this weapon."

"My Lord!" Luwin exclaimed, clearly taken aback. "Such a find should not be hord-"

"We don't even fully understand what this weapon is, Maester Luwin, nor how to replicate it." Ned stressed, cutting off the Maester. "If we spread word that such a weapon exists and is in our hands, there would be many in the Realm that would stop at nothing to get their hands on it. Can you imagine the devastation that this single sword could cause if it falls into the wrong hands? The Mountain Who Rides, for example? Or the exiled Targaryens? How much gold could this blade fetch to the right people? No. For the moment, it is best that this weapon remains a secret in the North. Is that understood?"

Maester Luwin was clearly not pleased, but in the end, he proved true to his oaths to Winterfell and agreed to Ned's request. "Ser Rodrik," Ned continued, turning to the Master of Arms. "I want you and Jory to test Nox in the yard. I want to know if his defeat of the wildlings was fluke or not."

"It will be done, my Lord." Ser Rodrik responded with a curt nod.

"Good," Ned nodded moving his attention away from the four in front of him to the mountain of paperwork that lay scattered across his desk. "That is all."

Cat was the first to leave, her head held high as she marched out of his solar with Maester Luwin close behind her. Once he was alone, Ned buried his head into his hands and prayed to the old gods that he wasn't making a mistake. But no matter what he thought, he knew that he was making the right choice. It was a…feeling he had. Almost as if the gods themselves were speaking directly to him, telling him that this stranger needed to find a home amongst his House. 'If he can do even half of what I believe, then he is far too valuable to let him leave. A fighter of his potential caliber is rare thing to find. And add his potential abilities with magic, he goes from being just rare to invaluable.'

After being shown to his room by the Steward of Winterfell, a relatively modest room that measured maybe ten to fifteen paces across and wide with a bed and desk as the only furnishings, Nox went to work immediately to make it more suitable to suit his tastes. The bed he moved to the far corner of the room and the desk he moved to the other corner in order to make as much room for movement as possible. When he noticed the chamber pot behind a partition, Nox just barely kept himself from shuttering. 'Alright…first things first. I think I'm going to have to introduce these people to the wonders of indoor plumbing. Because there is no way I'm pissing and shitting into a bucket for the rest of my natural life.'

After making sure he had adequate space in his room, he slung his bag off of his shoulder and dumped its contents out on the bed. Setting aside the dozen lightsabers and saberstaffs, Nox stared down at what he had left. 'First aid kit. Flashlight. Some seeds. Charcoal water purifier. Lighters. Compass. Personnel locator beacon. Not like that will be much use. And a durasteel knife. Not a lot to go with…but better than nothing.'

Stepping away from the bed, Nox raised his hands to shoulder height straight out to his sides and slowly began to turn. Reaching out with the Force, he examined every square inch of his room: the dimensions; how thick the walls, floor, and ceiling were; how many other people were situated near to him. And most importantly, to see if there were any spies looking in on him. He was almost disappointed to find that there wasn't. 'Hmm, Lord Stark was smart enough to assign a tail to me during the trip to Winterfell. But he isn't smart enough to put me in a room that can be spied upon? Although…it doesn't seem like any of the rooms have any hidden passages or compartments in this part of the keep. Foolish.'

Walking to the nearest wall, Nox pressed his palm against the warm stone. Through the Force he could feel the flow of the warm water running through the walls of Winterfell like blood running through the veins and arteries of a body. An architectural marvel, especially when one factored in just how long Winterfell has stood for. 'Water has been running through the walls of this keep for centuries. No. For several millennia. And yet there has been no erosion within the walls. If one didn't know better, then it would be easy to believe that Winterfell is only a few years old. The Force truly is a wonder.'

That was the only explanation that Nox had for the phenomenon. Somehow, whoever had built this keep had carefully woven the Force into every aspect of it to keep it from decaying to erosion or other natural factors. And they did it without using any advanced technology. Simply brilliant.

Walking the length of the room, Nox kept his hand on the wall as he searched for a section of wall that was deep enough and far enough away from the flow of water to suit his purposes. After completing half a circuit around the room, he found a spot. Kneeling, he carefully used the Force to break the mortar holding a group of stones in place and then pulled them out. Setting the section of wall on the floor, he summoned one of the lightsabers on his bed to his hand. Moving with the delicacy of a surgeon, he slowly and carefully carved out the back of the stone section until he created a pocket three feet across, a foot deep and two feet tall. Satisfied, he summoned the other lightsabers one at a time and carefully arranged them in the newly formed pocket and, once he'd set the last one in, placed the section of wall back where he'd gotten it from.

'There will come a time when I will have need of those.' He thought, running a finger along the broken mortar and doing his best to reseal it enough so that no one would notice. 'But for now, it's better to keep them in a safe place.'

With that taken care of, Nox made his way to the center of the room and sat down. Removing his chest armor, gauntlets and greaves, Nox made himself comfortable on the floor. Straightening his posture and relaxing, Nox let his emotions fuel him as he began to meditate. But the moment he felt the Force coming to him, his focus was abruptly and almost violently wrenched from him. 'That…tremor in the Force. Wha—What caused that?'

Rising from his spot, he approached his shuttered windows and threw them open with a push. Tilting his head, he reached out through the Force trying to find the source of the disturbance. 'There…It's within the walls of Winterfell. But it is not human in origin. What could it be?'

His curiosity getting the better of him, Nox stepped up onto his windowsill and out into the night, plummeting the three stories down to the ground and using the Force to soften his landing so that he hit the ground with barely a sound. Following the steady pulse of Force energy, Nox made his way around to the back of the keep, making sure he stayed in the shadows to avoid any prying eyes. As he rounded the back of the keep, he found himself faced with yet another wall, this one only twenty or so feet high, but still. 'Fuck…You can lock this place down tighter than a Hutt's credit chip if you wanted too,' Nox thought ruefully as he leapt off the ground and up onto the top of the wall.

'Well…that is something I didn't think I'd see,' he thought as he gazed out over the small woods that was encased within the walls of Winterfell. Scanning the tops of the trees, he focused in on the steady pulse that was emanating from the large red-leafed tree that dominated the center of the wooded area. 'A godswood…or weirwood I believe the wildlings' called it.' he thought, stepping off the edge of the wall into the wooded area beyond.

'No guards save for the ones at the entrance,' he noted as he made his way through the trees and towards the weirwood. 'I'm going to have to read up on these weirwoods first chance I get. They obviously hold great significance to both the wildlings and the people of Winterfell. But what that significance is remains a mystery to me.'

A memory syphon, much like the one he'd used on the two wildlings in the wolfswood, was useful to learn bits of information that could be considered common knowledge, like language or names. But it wasn't useful for prying out secrets of information that the victim held onto. Prying into those would often result in destroying the mind of the individual being question. And if the subjects did not have an organized mind, or if they weren't educated, then deciphering any meaningful information from them was infinitely more difficult. As it was, he was fortunate to gain a basic understanding of the language, let alone any other useful bits of information about this land.

Coming to the center of the woods, Nox found himself amid a small clearing. The weirwood standing tall and proud acting like a beacon in the Force across from him with a deep dark pool of water separating them. Making his way around the reflective pool, he stood before the weirwood. Red sap falling free from the face that'd been carved into its bark. 'Interesting,' he thought, stepping forward and reaching out to touch the beckoning tree.

The moment his fingers touched the white bark, he was forcibly pulled into a Force vision as darkness surrounded him. When the shadows cleared, he found himself staring at a game board. One end was situated with a throne made of thousands of swords that'd been melted together. As the vision progressed, he watched as stags, wolves, lions, dragons, roses, falcons, spears, fish and dozens of other animals and symbols fought over the right to sit upon the throne while all the while a spider and a mockingbird spread discord on all sides of the conflicts, each growing ever stronger. In the end, one did sit on the throne. A proud lioness who stared down with a smile at her fallen advisories. But as she sat, a darkness formed in the far reaches of the board…north. How he knew the direction he didn't know. But he knew the darkness came from the far north. And that the darkness had been watching the symbols fight and die while it waited to pick over their scraps.

As he watched, powerless to interact, the ancient darkness spread south and consumed all life. Eventually toppling the arrogant lioness off the throne and turning the swords to dust that scattered on the winds. With the fall of the throne, the darkness spread until it consumed every living thing on the planet. As it moved, darkness from all across the world also began to rise and joined with it, helping the ancient being to achieve its goal. And once it had, it set its eyes on the stars overhead, ready and willing to reach out for what lay beyond.

But before it could, the board was reset. The pieces returned to their starting places and a new game began. The moves were different, but the war was inevitable. Dozens of symbols were erased and in the end a dragon sat on the throne. Smiling vindictively at the smoldering embers of its enemies. Yet again, the darkness emerged and came south. And once again it consumed all life one piece at a time until all life was extinguished.

The board reset again. This time there was no war. Peace reigned throughout the land with a lion wearing the skin of stag sat on the throne of swords with a she-wolf at his side. But once again, the darkness emerged and began its conquest, slower this time. But the end was inevitable as once again it consumed all life in its path. Another reset. And Nox was more than slightly surprised as he took note that on this cycle, he himself was in the mix of symbols. He watched on, curiously, as his figure stood against the spreading darkness, only to become consumed by that same darkness and take part in bringing an end to all life on the planet.

Again, and again, Nox watched as the future played out, dozens, hundreds, thousands of configurations and outcomes. And each time the end was the same. No matter if there was war or not, no matter who sat on the throne of swords, no matter if he aided or not, the darkness consumed everything or turned it to its side. The visions came quicker and quicker as more and more options were presented. And, without fail, each one met the same outcome as the original.

'What does it mean?!' Nox raged in frustration as he watched another failed attempt to stop the darkness, only for the board to once again reset. This time, something was truly different. He didn't know how he knew, but something this vision was unlike the others. Most of the details to end were obscured, but the end was clear. A wolf had shed its pelt and become something else entirely now sat on the throne with wolves and dragons and…another at its side. And behind this new figure he saw himself, guiding and aiding him. And with the new piece's ascension, the others bowed down in reverence. And this time, when the darkness came south, it faltered against the new piece that'd not been present before. He'd seen this figure before. It'd been present in numerous visions. Sometimes as a wolf, sometimes as the piece it was meant to be. But it'd always failed before. But this time, this time the ancient darkness was defeated, its presence erased from existence. 'Why was this game so different from the others? Why was my sight of the moves blocked this time when it wasn't blocked before?'

With a rush, Nox was forced out of the vision and back into the waking world.

Rocking back on his heels, he raised a hand to his head and fought against the wave of vertigo that threatened to overcome him. 'Hundreds of thousands of outcomes…but only one that leads to victory,' he thought, rubbing his head trying to, and frustratingly failing at, remembering the specifics that led to the path of victory. 'Nothing is ever easy. But one thing is for sure. The path to victory requires the wolves, dragons, and one other to survive the necessary war to come. If those three are not situated on or around the throne, then the others will not submit and the darkness from the North will prevail.' Pausing in his musing, he turned to the east and the slowly rising sun. 'Well…if I wasn't already set on aiding House Stark during my rise to power, my path is now set. For I have no intention of becoming just another disposable pawn in the ancient darkness's plan. Peace is a lie. There is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, power. Through power, victory! Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall set me free. By this creed, the creed of the Sith. I will never be bound again!'

Far away from Winterfell, in the Lands of Always Winter, an ancient and long forgotten darkness slowly began to awaken. And as it did, a smile graced its lips as the time of reaping was finally approaching.