Blood of the Wolf
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(Circa 289AC)
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“Cregan!” My mother’s voice ran out as I wobbled in the darkness.
“Don’t worry about him, I’ll make you forget all ‘bout the boy,” a deep, malicious voice replied.
“H-How, dare you! Get off me!”
“Hmm, never had a princess before,” an older sounding voice murmured with a dark laugh followed by something being ripped.
“AAAGH!” a young, female voice called out.
With a groan, I lifted my head as the voices swirled around me. I blinked several times as I looked at the surface of whatever I was lying upon as my vision struggled to work. I tried to focus on anything, but my head hurt. Through the pain, I remembered I was on a ship. With my mother and…
“No!”
My head whipped around at the cry from a familiar female voice. Agony roared through my skull at the movement, but as I saw an old, balding man in blood-soaked clothing push a young, tan-skinned girl down onto a bed, my mind began to realign.
“Get off me!” The girl, Arianne, shouted as she slapped feebly at the much larger man’s well-developed shoulders. Even as she did this, the man leaned forward, with an arm sliding between her spread-out legs.
One hand caught the man’s face, though the man seemed to ignore it. “Heh. I like ‘em feisty.” He commented as he pulled his arm back. Something ripped and, in the man’s clenched fist was the remains of some small, flimsy clothing.
“NOOO!” Arianne screamed as her flailing increased.
“Arianne!” Another voice, my mother’s called out. My head again moved, the pain and fog still there, to see another man slap my mother hard enough she spun and fell chest-first onto the table.
“Shut it whore,” the younger man who’d just slapped her said before he grabbed the back of her nightgown and ripped it down, exposing her back past her waist.
Mother screamed as I pulled myself to my knees. My head was sore but deep inside I felt something roaring, demanding to be let loose.
“A virgin, eh? Don’t worry, old Dunstan ‘re ‘ll fix that,” the old man on the other side of the room commented with a chuckle that only fuelled the raging fire inside me.
My blood boiled as I forced myself to one knee, and as I braced my hands on the floor to push myself upwards, I felt something cold, hard and familiar with my right hand. Risking taking my eyes from the rapidly degenerating scene in the cabin, I glanced down and saw my dagger. Slowly, fighting against the rage inside that wanted me to surge forward, I picked up the dagger. Though from the sounds the men were making as they began their assaults on my mother and cousin, I could’ve dragged the weapon across the floor, and they likely wouldn’t have cared.
Another muffled scream came for my mother as the man pushed her back down, then fiddled with something at his waist. That was followed by a roar of anguish from Arianne, and I turned back to see the old man Dunstan had pushed his hand back between her exposed legs.
Something inside me snapped at the sight, and as the fire in my blood howled in rage, I felt no desire to contain it. As I stood and moved toward Dunstan and Arianne, I once more spotted another candle on the desk beside the bed. Like the candle I’d seen before, it had been knocked over, however, the wick of this candle still burned. The fury within me locked onto the flame and I felt a connection form between them as the flame flickered higher into the air.
My mind demanded the flame obey as it rose far higher than it ever should have, then forming a thin line, leapt towards Dunstan. The tip of the flame struck his cloak then shot upwards and wrapped itself around his neck even as the rope of flame on his cloak expanded outwards.
“Wha… Argh!”
“AH!”
The dual screams of Dunstan and Arianne meant they’d seen the flames engulfing the man; something further proven as he stumbled back from the princess and reached for the fire around his neck. He hissed as they burnt his hand even as I saw the flames slide under his armour into the gambeson underneath. Arianne took the moment of freedom to crawl into the corner of her bed, pulling her covers to her as cover.
I thought I saw the younger man move, perhaps drawn by the panicked shouts from Arianne and Dunstan, however, my focus was on the old man. My blood burned with a desire to make him pay for trying to hurt Arianne, to make him burn for touching what was mine.
As he stumbled back, I sprung into motion. The world seemed to slow down as my blood, boiling with rage, pushed me forward. A step back was avoided and I slashed the back of his knee. An arm flailed out, but I dodged it with contemptuous ease. His arm away from his body left him exposed underneath and I pounced. With no armour there, my dagger struck the gambeson, then sunk in further as I let him fall into the blade.
A groan from my target empowered my actions, and I kept pushing until the hilt of the dagger was pushing up against the gambeson. His other arm came around, swinging wildly at me, but from my location, it couldn’t do anything. As our eyes met, I savoured the look of shock and realisation in his eyes that his killer was a child. The sheer, unadulterated disbelief made my blood sing.
I grinned in pure unadulterated joy as I felt a slight pop, my dagger had pierced his lung or heart.
Something red came flying into my vision. I pulled back though not enough to avoid whatever was coming at me, and my vision blurred for a moment before I was pushed back hard. I slammed back first into something wooden and slumped to the ground.
“Dad?” the younger man all but whispered in the strange silence that had settled. I shook my head to clear my vision, only to find my left eye was still blocked. My hand went there as I saw Dunstan slumped out on the ground, his red blade lying between us.
“You little shit!” the younger man snarled, which just stoked my fury. Ignoring my hand which was now soaked red, I leapt forward. The fire inside demanded the blade that had struck me become mine, and as my fingers closed on the grip, my eyes got their first close look at the sword.
The metal in the blade seemed alive with ripples that moved as if capturing the flow of the blood it had spilt. Something at the back of my mind shouted that it knew this blade, but that voice was lost in the frenzy that was engulfing me.
As my fingers touched the grip, I felt a jolt surge into me, strengthening my resolve. I pulled it towards me, surprised at how light it felt, even as I heard metal being unsheathed.
I turned to see the younger man approaching, sword in one hand, axe in another. His face was twisted in rage and disbelief, but I was incapable of fear. My spirit howled for more blood for those that dared to attack my family, my pack.
“I’m going to fucking gut you!” He spat at me as he raised his sword to strike down at me.
Both my hands gripped the red blade as I made it to my feet, and I braced. My rage demanded that I rip him to pieces for daring to touch my mother, but I had just enough control to know that standing was the better choice.
Just as his blade started to descend, something smashed into the back of his head. He stumbled, almost losing the grip on his weapons, and I moved. Even as he instinctively turned to see what had happened, I closed the distance between us.
“Fucking whore! I’ll deal with you after killing your little brat!” The man snarled at my mother. My blood sang for vengeance as he backhanded my mother, sending her flying stomach-first into the table.
My soul thundered in rage at him laying a hand on my mother. My blood burned with the fury of a volcano as I swung the blade forward with the grace of a baseball bat.
“Now, for yo… argh,” he spat out as I drove the blade into his knee. Somewhere in my mind, I wondered why the blade had slid through his armour so easily. He was wearing some armour there, but that had done nothing to stop my blade. However, the rage fuelling my actions could only revel in his grunt of pain as I pulled the blade free.
“Agh!” He called out as fell onto the bad knee. He swung his axe wildly, ducking I stepped forward and aimed the tip of my blade at his heart. The sound of metal on metal echoed around the room for a moment before, somehow, my red blade sunk into and through his armoured chest plate.
His eyes widened in shock as I pushed forward, wanting to drive the blade through his very soul.
“Ugh,” the man grunted out as the hilt of the red blade stuck against his armour. I looked into his eyes, savouring the fact this bastard would soon join his father in the darkest pits of hell. I feasted upon seeing him realise that, just like his fucking arsehole of a father, he’d been bested and killed by a fucking child!
“L-little f-fuck,” he barely managed to get out as I grinned to expose my teeth.
A second later I saw something to my side and started to move. However, whatever it was still hit me and I was sent falling back hard for the third time in a matter of minutes. My head slammed hard into something once more, and as my head rang in pain from the strike, objects fell around me.
“Cregan!” A voice, Arianne’s, call out and a moment later I felt a set… no, two sets of hands, helping to right me. A gasp came from nearby. I blinked, trying to clear my vision, but my left side was now blurred. Before there’d been something dripping down into it, making it awkward to see, but now it was impeding my vision to an extent that it was hard to see clearly from my left eye.
“Arianne, fetch some cloth” Mother all but shouted which was followed by frantic footsteps on the hard wooden deck of the cabin. A hand brushed my head. I winced as it tenderly touched my left temple before brushing from the bridge of my nose to my left ear. With my right eye starting to refocus I saw my mother kneeling in front of me. Her face was dominated by fear as she continued to lightly stoke across my forehead, yet as my good eye met hers, I felt something else was wrong.
“M, mother. A-re, you, ok?” I asked slowly as it hurt to think and speak. Arianne arrived at my mother’s side, naked as the day she’d been born but with something bundled up in her hands. Her eyes were wide as she passed the bundle to my mother. “Ari..” I got out before she placed a finger on my lips.
“Shh. I’m well,” she cut in as a weak smile came to her face. “You… I… You saved us.”
I smiled back at her, doing my best to ignore the pain that caused. “Always,” I whispered back even as her smile faltered, meaning my attempt to hide my pain failed. Suddenly my mother moved closer and I felt something cover my left eye. I slowly realised she’d used whatever Arianne had given her as a bandage and was tying it over my eye and forehead. That was not a comforting thought, yet as she pulled it tight against my skin, I couldn’t find the voice to complain. The surge of energy I’d gotten at seeing mother and Arianne in danger was quickly fading.
“There, that should at least slow the bleeding,” my mother said before she pulled back enough that I could see her face again. The tightness against my skull was uncomfortable but was necessary to stop the bleeding. Though the fact my left eye had been all but unusable before the bandage was applied wasn’t encouraging.
Feeling slightly uncomfortable I shifted my gaze back to Arianne only to instantly regret it. She was still naked and either didn’t realise or was so concerned about me that it didn’t matter. Still, I did my best to keep my eyes on her face. Even doing that, the way her eyes looked at me made me uncomfortable and as heat built in my cheeks, I forced myself to look past her without looking at her.
On the floor, I saw the bodies of the two men I’d killed. The younger man was slumped over, with the red blade – Red Rain my mind supplied – wedged through him with the tip sticking out of his back. I suspected that the angle the blade was at, with the hilt having wedged against the corner of the wall, was the only reason he wasn’t slumped on the ground like his father. Pools of blood were staining the floor under each man and, with my mind starting to clear, I replayed the fight over in my mind. The only reason I was still alive was a combination of luck, magic and my opponents' arrogance.
“C-Cregan, the f-fire,” Arianne began slowly, almost fearfully, which drew my attention back to her deep, soulful eyes. “H-ow, wh-at?”
“AARGH! A scream echoed into the room from the corridor outside, cutting off a question I’d rather not have to deal with right now.
“Tyene,” I mumbled, recognizing the voice. The fire inside, which had slid into the shadows of my spirit, ignited once more. Before either woman could stop me, I was on my feet and heading for the door. I moved to Red Rain, however at the angle the man was at, it would take too much time to remove it from his body. However, his weapons were on the floor near him the sword was too cumbersome to easily use but the axe was smaller, lighter and while still large for my stature, was something I could carry.
“Cregan” my mother began as she placed a hand on my shoulder as my own hands closed around the shaft of the axe.
“Stay here!” I growled out as I picked up the weapon and slid from her grip. The axe was meant for one hand, but at my size and strength, I’d be better using it in two hands.
“But,”
“STAY HERE!” I snarled as I reached the remains of the door. My body hurt with every muscle screaming in agony, but the fury in my blood was awoken once more and it demanded I keep going. That I protect my family and make those fools attacking it pay with their lives.
In the corridor, I saw the bodies of the four Martells guards that had been outside the door along with five others that would’ve been with Dunstan and his son while the sounds of metal clashing and men shouting reverberated through the corridor. While most looked like they’d died from blows – or in one guard’s case, bolts – to vital places, or in the case of one pirate the loss of his head, two of the Martell guards had wounds on the chest. That had to have been the work of Red Rain, as only Valyrian Steel was capable of punching through armour with ease.
“Get off me!”
Nymeria’s voice echoed in the almost empty corridor. My focus snapped towards her shared room even as the sounds of fighting upstairs faded away as the burning in my veins screamed at me to move.
The door to her room with Tyene was open with one of the Red Rain killed Martell guards slumped down at the doorframe. I moved closer, the complaints of my muscles buried under the fury inside as, from inside the room, sounds of the girls struggling and lecherous chuckles seeped out.
The axe in my hands was heavy, but I couldn't, wouldn’t drop it. I had to move. I had to attack. Near the door, my foot caught on an arm, making something scrape on the floor. I glanced down and saw the man had been wielding a crossbow that was loaded and armed. A smile that was likely rather sinister with my face covered in blood came to my face as I saw the weapon. How and why it hadn’t gone off when the pirate had fallen I didn’t know, but the fuck was I going to complain.
Seeing better odds with the crossbow, at least for an initial attack, I lifted it, though I had to drop the axe first, and stepped through the door frame. Inside I saw both girls struggling against attackers, though Nymeria was fighting against two with one holding her arms down while the second was ripping her nightgown. As the man grabbed her breast, drawing a scream, I saw red.
Before I’d even realised it, the bolt flew the short distance across the room, slamming into the man’s throat. He fell to one side, though with enough force to cause the other to partially lose his grip on Nymeria. The girl twisted in his weakened grip and then kicked the remaining attacker in the groin.
I turned towards where Tyene was struggling against another man, who was much larger than any other I’d fought tonight. He was already reacting to the death of his friend, probably having heard the bolt firing, and had spotted me at the doorframe.
The rage inside wanted me to charge forward, to rip him apart with my bare hands, but just enough of my rational brain remained for me to realise the folly in that. I snarled at him as he pushed Tyene into her bunk. As he stalked towards me, I began to backpedal, wanting to get to the axe I’d dropped as quickly as I could. The crossbow stayed in my hands though as something was better than nothing.
“Not sure where you came from?” he spat as he moved closer and I backpedalled to the doorframe and saw my discarded axe near my feet, “but I’ll fucking send you to the Drowned God before taking my time with these two.”
Movement from Nymeria’s bunk drew my attention for a split second and I saw something glint in her hand as she attacked her remaining attacker. That man was just freeing himself from his dead comrade. Another step by the big man drew my attention back to him.
“Fucking Dornish cunts,” he hissed as he brought his axe high, ready to strike down at me even as I saw Nymeria drive the metal in her hand into the neck of her remaining attacker. I dropped the crossbow and started to reach for the axe.
A flash of blonde behind him caught my eye, which was followed by Tyene calling out. “Get away from him!”
The man turned. “Don… urgh.” Whatever insult he wanted to use was snuffed out as Tyene smashed something in his face. I thought I saw a wisp of green smoke before the man staggered back.
“You lit-tle, bi…” the man groaned, stumbling forward. The axe slipped from his grip as both hands reached toward Tyene. Tyene’s eyes widened with fear as she stumbled back, and I moved. In my haste, I hadn’t managed to grab my axe, but the large man had dropped his axe when whatever it was that Tyene threw smashed into his face. I gripped his axe then, just as the man reached Tyene – who was scrambling into the far corner of her bunk – and swung the head of the axe at the back of the man’s knees.
“Mine!” I roared as his balance failed. The edge of the axe found its mark, taking out his balance. His chest plate smacked off the edge of the bunk as his momentum carried him forward before he fell onto his side. His face was coated in a green liquid, with blood seeping from his mouth and eyes.
“Bitc…” whatever he planned to say was cut off as, with a roar, I lifted the axe high above my head, then drove the blade of the weapon down into his throat with all my remaining strength.
Cartilage crunched as the axe wedged itself in his throat.
I stumbled back, my strength and energy exhausted, and fell to the floor.
Tyene blinked several times as she stared at the axe before looking at me. “C-Cregan… How?” she mumbled out as she seemed to be trying to piece together what’d happened.
“Mine,” I whispered so quietly that I barely heard myself. Anything else I might’ve wanted to say was lost as the sweet, tender embrace of nothingness engulfed me.
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… …
I groaned as my mind started to refocus. Quickly, images, sounds, then the full memory of the last thing I remembered came to me. Watching my mother and Arianne being attacked then fighting and killing to protect them, Tyene and Nymeria. Even with my eyes closed, I was able to review everything that’d happened and wondered why I’d been so… enraged. I understood I was still physically young, so I’d be more prone to emotional reactions, but my behaviour during those two short but intense fights was not me. It was almost as if something had come over me and clouded my mind with a fury that I had never before possessed.
I put that concern to one side, I needed to open my eyes and see where I was. I wasn’t on the cold, hard deck of the ship as whatever was under me was soft; I also felt none of the movement I would on a ship so I wasn’t on the water any longer.
It hurt to take a deep breath and when my eyes opened, I was greeted with darkness. Not the kind that you’d experience at night as even when there was no moon overhead you could still make out things. Here, there was nothing but a hazy, indeterminate blackness. I tried to lift a hand to my face, hoping to clear whatever was interfering with my vision only to discover both my arms were being held in place. The bindings were soft against my wrists, so I wasn’t in a cell, but I was still restrained.
I felt that burning inside come back as I started to struggle against my bonds; something that grew worse as something pressed against my chest.
“Cregan,” the voice of my mother calmed my growing rage in an instant as if a storm had broken and tranquillity had returned to the ocean. I realised the push against me was gentle. Her voice sounded fine, though I sensed concern and fear in her tone.
“My lady,” an unknown male voice said slowly, “I must ask you to stay back. The boy is likely weak and disoriented from his ordeal.” The pressure on my chest, which I suspected was from my mother’s hands, withdrew. I heard a shuffling sound accompanied by the familiar jangle of a Maester’s chain before a hand slid behind my head and lifted my lips to something cold.
“Drink,” the male voice of what I believed was a Maester said. Something wet slipped into my mouth. I cringed at the stinging sensation of the water, yet I wanted to gulp it down as a massive thirst surged through me. As I tried to gulp the water, the cup was pulled back. “Easy there, boy. Slow, small sips.”
The cup returned to my lips. The desire to gulp was still there, but I understood and obeyed the instruction. After what felt like a minute the cup was pulled back and after licking my lips, I spoke. “Wh, wher,” even with the water I’d just drunk, my voice was hoarse and my throat sore from trying to get out just a single word.
“We’re in the Banefort,” my mother replied, having understood what I was trying to ask. “Lord Quenten has placed us under his protection while Maester Warrek has been tending to you over the last six days.”
“Si-x?” I managed to croak out as I tried to process that it’d been at least a week since the battle. At the same time, I pulled to mind where the Banefort was. It was a minor holding on in the Westerlands that was the closest point on the mainland to the Iron Islands. That fact confirmed with what I knew of the wielder – well former wielder – of Red Rain, confirmed what I’d realised during the lull in the fighting that we’d been attacked by the Ironborn. I suddenly wondered if this meant I’d stumbled upon, and barely survived the Greyjoy Rebellion. That had happened about a decade before the books started, which would be around now.
“The ship carrying you and your family arrived in harbour six days ago,” Maester Warrek explained. “Or what was left of it. From what I know, your escorts were captured or sunk by the Ironbron fleet you encountered, though yours was able to slip away in the night after they cleared the attackers. After that, you were placed in my care. However, you didn’t arrive here until the day after the battle.” He paused as I reflected on the fact that I’d been unconscious for a week. I didn't think I'd been that badly injured, so why had it taken this long for me to wake? “Lord Quenten owes you and Ser Benjen a debt of thanks. Without your warning, the killing of Lord Drumm and his son, and the delay it caused the Ironborn to engage your small fleet, the Westerlands would’ve been unprepared for the Ironborn’s act of rebellion. Lord Tywin Lannister managed to prevent the complete burning of the fleet thanks to a raven from Lord Quenten.”
I groaned as my head lowered back to the pillow. Hearing we had been caught in the beginnings of the rebellion had been expected (if only by about a minute) but to hear that because we'd been caught in a battle, Tywin fucking Lannister had managed to save some of his naval might was a gutshot. That man was beyond dangerous, and my actions had helped him save part of his fleet. Now, I didn’t know if this was how events had played out in canon, but I was pretty sure he'd lost the entire fleet during the Ironborn attack.
Hopefully, this little ripple wouldn’t affect too much of the rebellion timeline. Though if Theon was killed instead of being taken as a ward of House Stark I wouldn’t complain. Little shit deserved almost everything that happened to him for betraying someone he'd sworn to be like a brother to. I racked my mind for anything I could on the rebellion from either the show or the single book I’d read but came up with nothing of any use.
From there, my thoughts turned to the other ships in our fleet. We’d left Dorne with six escort ships, with a further four staying in the Reach with several lords and knights that had come to compete in the tourney at Highgarden and had chosen to stay with Oberyn for his protection. My thoughts turned to two of Arianne’s handmaidens - Eyme Wells and Serylla, an orphan of the Greenblood - and the four nobles that I knew were on those ships; Jarden Garlagen (second son of Lord Tremond), Ser Ulwyck Uller (brother of Lord Harman), Ser Ario (a freedman from Essos) and Ser Corrad Allyrion (Dameon Sand’s uncle). The men were likely dead, along with others who I’d never met or learnt the names of. As for the handmaidens and any other female… I shuddered to think what was happening to them if they hadn’t died on their ships.
Those deaths, along with the attack on Arianne and the unknown, to me, fates of Lord Quentyn Qorgyle and Ser Myles Manwoody - who had both been on board our ship - would send Dorne into a collective rage. There was no way in the seven hells that an army of Dorne wouldn’t come to join this war. To say nothing of how apoplectic Oberyn was going to be once he heard what had happened.
I was drawn from my thoughts as a door creaked open. “Cregan?” My mother asked with noticeable concern.
“The boy is likely just tired, my lady,” Warrek said as I finally noticed that even with my eyesight blocked the Interface was still working. The small, blinking blue light that signified it had something to tell me was there in the bottom right of my vision. My Stamina and Mana bars were both at three quarters, which was something I’d noted when I’d woken up, but in my confusion, or before my eyes had adjusted to the blurry darkness I was seeing, I’d failed to notice a faint orange line seemingly blocking them from filling fully. “Mayhaps it would be best if you informed Ser Benjen and Princess Arianne of his awakening. They, and the others in your party, would likely be most grateful to hear of it.”
“Right, yes,” mother said before a stool scraped on the stone floor. “I’ll go get them.” There was a pause before a door creaked open. “Maester Warrek, Thank you. I… I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d lost both children to this… attack.”
I frowned at hearing this and felt the rage from before begin to bubble. The Ironborn attack had taken her unborn child from her, my sibling from me? They’d pay dearly for this. Whatever it took, however long I had to wait to get my revenge, I’d make sure they paid for this.
“It was nothing, Lady Ashara. Even when we ignore your son’s impressive feats in helping your party survive and warn us, it is my duty to care for the sick and injured.” Warrek sighed. “Still, I shudder to think how terrible the attack on Lannisport could’ve been if not for your timely warning.”
“Yes, it could have been much worse,” mother replied, though there was a hint of regret or anger buried in her tone. A moment later I heard the door creak closed. That was followed by hands coming to my forehead, then moving carefully round to my ears.
“Before your mother returns with the Princess and others, I think it would be best to check your wounds and change the bandage,” Warrek commented as he pulled his hands back then, judging by the slight creak coming from his direction, stood. “I’ll need you to keep calm and if anything hurts at any point tell me immediately.”
“O-k,” I managed to get out through my still painfully hoarse throat.
His hands returned, though this time on my legs then my stomach, chest, and arms. Apart from some mild discomfort from my ribs – which he informed me were cracked but healing well – nothing felt out of place.
“Well, apart from your head everything is either healed or almost there,” he commented as his hands pulled back. “Now, just wait there. I need to get some clean supplies before I examine your head.”
I listened to the jangle of his chain as he walked away, and once I was sure he was far enough that I had a few moments, I opened the Interface and grimaced at what it told me.
Bloodline Perk Unlocked!
The Wolfs-blood
Like many a Stark before you, the blood of the direwolf flows strongly through your veins.
That makes you very aggressive and protective of those you consider your ‘pack’ and gives you a singular focus for your anger when they are threatened.
When the wolfs-blood sings, you gain considerable boosts, however until you learn to control the blood, you cannot engage or disengage the perk intentionally.
You can fight for longer with greater ferocity and gain increased control over your magic, particularly any strengths you gain from your familiars.
However, this comes at the cost of greater drains on your Mana and Stamina which, if left uncontrolled, can result in you suffering depletion of one or both. This can result in temporary reductions in your ability to channel magic, a lack of energy for hours or days afterwards, or in the most severe cases, the loss of consciousness for days at a time.
...
In more mechanical terms, while this perk is active, you can shrug off a percentage of damage taken, gain boosts in experience increases when using magic and any magic costs less mana to empower. Your Mana and Stamina will drain fifteen to twenty per cent faster though you’ll be able to use your Stamina for magic if your Mana reserves are depleted.
...
MAGICAL INCREASE!
Fire Magic has increased to level 17.
...
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
WARNING!
STAMINA DEPLETION!
Due to you overexerting yourself while the Bloodline Perk Wolfs-blood was active, you depleted your Stamina and lost consciousness.
Under normal circumstances this will result in your losing consciousness for up to half a day, however, if combined with Mana Depletion and/or the Wolfs-blood perk being active, the time unconscious can increase dramatically.
In most situations, a loss of Stamina isn’t life-threatening, however, while unconscious you are defenceless and must rely on others to keep you safe.
Also, for a period of up to three days, you will suffer limits on your Stamina regeneration and capacity.
This period of physical exhaustion can be decreased with time and practice, however, how you go about that is something you’ll have to discover for yourself.
If this occurs concurrently with Mana Depletion this restriction period is quadrupled.
...
WARNING!
MANA DEPLETION!
Due to overexerting your magical capacity, you’ve depleted your internal mana reserves.
Because of this, you’ll suffer decreased rates of Mana regeneration, maximum mana and experience towards Magic for five days.
This period of magical exhaustion can be decreased with time and practice, however, how you go about that is something you’ll have to discover for yourself.
In addition, if suffered concurrently with Stamina Depletion, the time limit to return your magical capacity to normal is tripled.
...
Status Effects Active:
Stamina Restriction:
Time Remaining: 104:37:32
Mana Restriction:
Time Remaining: 174:37:32
...
WARNING!
INJURIES DETECTED!
You are currently suffering from various injuries.
The severity and location of an injury may carry penalties from what skills you can learn or use to your Stamina and Mana potential.
Permanent injuries are beyond the ability of Planetos medical science to heal, however, with sufficient mana and practice, it may be possible to heal them.
...
Current Injuries:
Cracked Ribs: 654:37:42
Swollen Forehead: 11:37:42
Facial Scar: PERMANENT
...
That was both worse than I’d feared and not nearly as bad as it could’ve been.
That I’d been unconscious for so long would’ve done nothing for my mother’s concern, so me waking now explained her relief. While the Stamina and Mana depletions explained why I’d been unconscious for about a week and the thin orange lines over their respective bars.
Seeing the Interface confirm I was injured was both unnerving and reassuring since I knew I wouldn’t suffer any permanent effects from the battle. Well, bar a scar that, if I had to guess, was going to be over or near my left eye. I’d been hit there twice in the fight with the Drumms, so having a scar from it wasn’t unexpected. Hells, it might even make for a nice conversation starter with people if it didn’t intimidate them (once I was older, larger and far, far better trained).
The time remaining on the Mana and Stamina restrictions and the injuries were helpful to know both how long ago the battle had been and when I’d be back at full strength. Though now that I knew exhaustion of my stamina and magic had ill effects, I’d have to be more cautious about how and when I taxed them. Yet, as I re-read the notice about Mana depletion I wondered why it was talking about internal mana. That hinted that it was possible to create external sources of mana to draw on. While insanely beyond what I could currently do with my magic, it was something to research and ponder; especially as I was likely confined to this bed for a few weeks at least.
As for the Bloodline Perk— That was semi-expected in retrospect, incredibly powerful once controlled but downright dangerous until I did gain control. The anger that had powered me through the fight had been boosted by the perk, far beyond anything I’d ever felt before. Adrenaline made you faster and braver in a fight, but Wolfs-blood was on another level entirely. I’d been almost insane with rage when my mother and Arianne had been attacked – and a part of me cringed at how they'd be doing after almost being raped – and it’d only calmed once they were safe. Well, until I’d realised that Tyene and Nymeria had also been in danger.
Looking back on the fight with an understanding of why I’d felt that fury, and how it had empowered me, I could see that even with the perk granting me its insane boosts I’d been very fucking lucky to survive, never mind win. The singular focus of the blood rage was a two-edged weapon. It’d – and would in the future I was sure – make me far more dangerous in a fight than I had a right to be, but it also left me distracted by almost everything happening around me. Though I suspected that the fact my wolfsblood allowed me to ignore pain and injury was the only reason I’d managed to keep going long enough to save Tyene and Nymeria.
The jingle of Warrek’s chain as he started back from wherever he’d gone in the room had me dismissing the notices. I could ponder on them further later. For now, I knew it was safer to focus on Warrek as he treated my head injury.
I felt something come to rest next to my left arm then heard something wooden being dragged for a moment on a stone floor. “Now, let’s see if the swelling has gone down any further,” Warrek muttered before his hands lifted my head, then fiddled with something at the back. A moment later the pressure of the bandage eased, which soon spread as I realised he was unwrapping the bandage.
“I’m going to move the bandage from your eyes, but keep them closed,” Warrek commented once my vision was brighter but still blurred letting me know he wasn’t removing it entirely as I’d thought.
“Y-yes, s-sir,” I croaked, earning me what sounded like a good-natured harrumph from him. Light seeped into my eyes even with my eyelids closed and I grimaced. That expression grew more prevalent when I felt a gentle poke against my head just above my left eye, which sent a jolt of pain to my mind.
“Hmm. The swelling has decreased enough and it looks like you shouldn’t lose the eye.” He instructed and I did as he said as I felt his fingers gently touch my forehead. “Now, I’m going to fully remove the bandage and apply a new one, though I’ll make sure to not cover your right eye. However, if at any point you feel pain, I want you to tell me immediately let me know. Am I clear?”
“Y-yes, sir.” I croaked once more, earning me a smile.
“If only all my patients were as obedient as you,” he muttered. I heard him fiddling with something on my bed by my left side then, a moment later my head was once more lifted, and I felt his hands against my hair.
A short while later the pressure was back against my skull. This was followed by gentle prodding around my still eyes before something was lain gently over my left eye; which, from what I felt, was in more pain than my right.
“Good. Now, I want you to open your right eye. Slowly though. It’s been a few days and you’ll need time to readjust to even the light from this overcast morning.” Slowly I opened my eye. The first rays of light made me wince, but I kept going until the eye was fully open. I blinked to help my eye not only adjust to the light but remoisturize as the blurry image of Maester Warrek came into focus. He was old, perhaps in his fifties, with a long but trimmed beard and the standard chain of a Maester around his neck. He smiled as I focused on him before leaning closer and moving my eyelids around.
“Good. Good. While I admit that I, like many Maesters, don’t understand all the workings of the eye, everything appears normal.” The gentle pressure of my left eye shifted when his hand went toward it. “Now, I’m going to place another bandage around your other eye. The bruising has receded, but I’d like to wait for at least half a moon before allowing you to use it.” I nodded in understanding before he leaned closer, lifted my head and the gentle pressure increased as he tied a second bandage over the eye. To others, I likely looked far worse than I was, but I understood and agreed with his caution.
After securing this bandage, he pulled back and smiled once more. “Normally I’d warn you about how your ability to see distances would be affected, but given you’ll likely be staying in this bed longer than the bandage will be staying over your eye, I suspect the warning would be moot.” He chuckled to himself before he stood. “That said, you’ll need to be careful when reaching for anything.”
“O-ok.” It was getting easier to talk, but I knew it would be a while still before I’d be able to speak more than a few syllables at a time. Plus, while I owed the Maester for healing me, he worked for a lord loyal to Tywin Lannister. I was going to have to play dumb while we were in the Banefort to avoid anything being said to Lord Tywin. Well, anything more as there was a decent chance that I’d been mentioned in a raven to the Warden of the West.
“Good. Now follow my finger as best you can,” he said before raising his index finger. I kept my gaze on it as he moved it around slowly, and when he finished his smile grew. “Good, good. There doesn’t appear to be any damage to that eye. Still, if you feel dizzy or things appear blurry, close it and inform whoever is watching over you.”
I nodded my understanding as I licked my lips for what felt like the fiftieth time since I’d awoken.
He opened his eyes to say something, only to pause and shake his head. “It’s been some time since I’ve seen such vibrant purple eyes, but the inner grey is, as far as I know of, rather unique,” he commented with a chuckle. “I’ve met someone with differing eye colours, and heard of others over in Essos, but never in all my studies have I heard of someone with two distinct colours within a single eye.” He shook his head in amusement. “Combined with the scar you’ll no doubt gain from your head wound and I’d wager women will be drawn to you. That is if a certain princess allows them to get close.” He leaned closer as his smile grew. “I do believe she is quite enamoured with you after your actions in saving her life.”
With that, he stood and then collected the pan that was beside me on the bed. I watched as he shuffled to the far side of the room, towards a table that had several books and other objects upon it. Behind the table and chair on its far side was a bookshelf. While it was hard to make out exactly what was there, I could determine there were at least a dozen glass jars.
I wasn’t entirely certain, but I suspected that this might be a medical treatment room in the Banefort and wondered how comfortable this Lord Quenten was with having a bastard treated in a bed that members of his family had likely lain upon. Though with Arianne and Benjen representing two of Westeros’ Great Houses and very likely having insisted, and the warning about an Ironborn attack on Lannisport having been proven true, the Lord had probably relented. Of course, there was also the chance he’d done so to avoid angering Tywin Lannister. While the Lannisters weren’t close to either the Starks or the Martells, Lord Quenten behaving badly would reflect on Tywin, which if this version was anything like the show version, would’ve caused Lord Quenten trouble he’d want to avoid.
Thinking about my uncle and cousin had me wondering how they were. Had Benjen suffered his own injuries from the Ironborn attack? And how were Arianne, Tyene and Nymeria handling the aftereffects of almost being raped?
For a brief moment I wondered why we’d not sailed on to Seaguard in the Riverlands as planned, but it had likely been due to our ship being damaged and myself and others being injured. Coming to the Westerlands would’ve caused further issues for Arianne, but I felt she’d be able to deal with that one at least with my mother around to help. Provided that my mother could have been persuaded to leave my side for long enough to help the princess and my uncle with Lord Quenten.
Before I could continue my thoughts on that matter, or let it drift to the horrors that would've happened to my mother and the others if I’d failed, the door to Warrek’s room flew open so quickly it sounded as if it groaned in protest.
“Cregan!” Arianne called out, catching me off-guard as she was usually much more careful about her behaviour around others. A moment later I groaned slightly as she all but leapt onto my bed, then slid her arms under my armpits then around the back of my neck before she pressed herself up against my cracked ribs.
“Princess!” “Arianne!”
The twin calls by my mother and Warrek were ignored as she placed her head against my chest. It took me a moment to recover from the shock of her actions – and the spike of pain from my ribs – before I could even try to recover.
“I, I thought…” she whispered as she pushed her head harder against my chest.
“A-air,” I managed to whimper out as I felt her sob. My voice seemed to break the spell she was under as she snapped back as if someone had slapped her. That sent another jolt of pain through me as my ribs protested. Once that was passed, I realised just how close she was as, for a moment, I got lost in her eyes. I opened my mouth to ask her to back off as my ribs were still hurting. A glint on her arm drew my eyes and I saw the coiled snake wristband – that she’d given me for my fifth nameday – on her forearm. I wasn’t sure why she was wearing it, beyond it being a link between us, but I was glad to see it was safe.
“Arianne!” Mother called out for the second time in about half a minute though my focus was on Arianne; or more specifically her lips which had been jammed against mine. There was a faint hint of strawberry on her breath as she kissed me hard even as her hand on my forehead slid into my hair.
Before I could fully process that was she kissing me, she pulled back. Her cheeks had darkened, and her eyes were wide while a faint smile slid onto her lips.
I could understand why she’d reacted as she had, I had after all saved her from a horrible fate, but I was still in shock that she’d not only kissed me but done so publicly. I pushed aside any thoughts about how attractive she was becoming as she slid into her teens or wondering if she’d end up looking like her mother in a few more years, to concentrate on where we were.
“Thank you,” she whispered breathlessly. I wouldn’t deny that hearing her breathless after a quick kiss was a good shot for my ego, but that was another thing I wasn’t going to dwell on.
I felt the muscles in my face complain as I smiled back at her. “W-wel, c-ome,” I stuttered out.
A moment later she slid back, easing the pressure on my stomach, though she made no move to stand even as my mother came around to the other side of the bed and glared at her.
“Princess, I can understand your… relief that my son is alive and that you wish to express your, gratitude for his actions in saving us, but might I remind you that you’re the Heir to the principality of Dorne and that my son is only 7 namedays old,” mother said with far more diplomacy than I’d expected from her face. If looks could kill Arianne may well have died on the spot, and that anger was clear in her tone.
Arianne looked over at my mother, and while I saw her tense for a second at the glare mother was giving her, she didn’t move. Instead, she smiled at her. “I understand your concern aunt Ashara, and your issue regarding decorum, however, I owe Cregan more than I can ever repay.” She paused and turned back to look at me. “I owe much to the… fire you showed to save me and your mother.” She said slowly, stressing the word ‘fire’. That meant she suspected I’d had something to do with that, however, she knew that discussing it now was impossible. Though the glint in her eyes made it clear I wouldn’t be able to put that conversation off forever.
She slid from the bed at that point and lightly patted down her dress, which I finally noticed wasn’t one of her usual ones. This one was thicker and more in keeping with styles I’d seen in the Reach suggesting it was borrowed from someone in the castle or hastily created by a nearby tailor. “Still, I do apologise for my… lapse in judgement. I didn’t mean to besmirch your son’s honour, at least not as he is currently.” She added with a smirk.
I pushed aside all thoughts of what that was implying, mainly as I wasn’t able to see if she meant it. I’d moved past my earlier issues with becoming involved with someone my physical age over the last few years, though I was still uncertain about starting something before I was in my mid-to-late teens. But if another initiated things, I doubted I’d be against having some fun with them.
Mother held Arianne’s gaze for a long second then sighed loudly. “Very well. However, once we return to Sunspear I will mention this to your parents.” That made Arianne freeze up for a moment which drew a laugh from someone behind my mother who I couldn’t currently see.
“That’s cruel,” a familiar voice said and a moment later a tall, lithe female slid past my mother. “Though it’s not the worst thing you could tell her father.”
From behind my mother emerged Nymeria, a smirk on her face, followed closely by Tyene with Benjen bringing up the rear. Nymeria and Benjen both smiled at me though Tyene seemed to avoid meeting my gaze.
“I think it would be best if those stories are kept to yourself,” mother commented with a slight glare towards Nymeria, which only made the girl’s smirk grow.
“Mayhaps it would be best if I gave you some space,” Warrek offered at the increased number of people in the room. While it could easily handle everyone, the Maester was the odd one out; even if it was his room or at least one he used semi-regularly.
“I… thank you Maester Warrek. And I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” mother replied. Warrek waved his hand in dismissal.
“There is no need to fret, Lady Ashara. Your son is very much the hero of the hour. Plus, this is a family affair, and I would be able to take this time to carry out other duties I have for my lord knowing my patient is in safe hands.” Warrek explained before he moved towards the door. “However, I will return soon to make sure you don’t wear out the boy.”
“I think Arianne’s the one most at risk of doing that,” Nymeria commented, getting a chuckle from Benjen and Warrek, though the latter was less enthusiastic. Likely due to how open the Dornish were with such comments from a young age.
The Maester did not comment as he slipped out of the room, though mother did glare at Nymeria once again. Arianne, who had spent the short conversation continuing to run her fingers up and down my forearm, seemed undisturbed by her cousin’s jest. Though before my mind could dwell on that, my mother came closer and placed her hand on my leg just below the knee.
“Cregan,” she began slowly. “What do you remember about the fight aboard the Sunchaser?” She asked slowly. The jovial mood at seeing me awake fell away and several people shared glances before looking at me. Generally, their expressions were neutral though Tyene seemed fearful while Arianne looked seemingly unconcerned. “Particularly about the moments before you attacked and killed Dunstan Drumm?” While her tone was soft, I thought I heard a whisper of concern.
Wanting to gather my thoughts before I considered answering, I shifted my gaze to the others, carefully examining them. Benjen seemed strangely relaxed about what my mother was subtly asking about. Arianne… if the issue was even concerning her, she was hiding it brilliantly. Her gaze never left me and there was no hint of distrust or even curiosity. Yet, it felt as though there was something behind the caring gaze she was laying upon me and I wondered again how she was handling what had happened – and almost happened – to her.
Nymeria was trying to stay as relaxed as Benjen, keeping a smirk on her face as she watched Arianne. However, like her cousin, I wondered how much of that was just putting on a brave face for my sake. On the other hand, Tyene wasn’t hiding any of her nervousness, though given that she wouldn’t meet my gaze, I wondered if the idea that I’d used magic was causing her issues due to her faith. Though in the corners of her eyes I thought I saw the same affection directed at me as I saw from Arianne.
I inhaled as I returned my gaze to my mother and considered my options. I could reveal my magic to them here and now, but that carried a risk that someone might overhear us. I was in no shape to defend myself from accusations from the local Septon or Septa. Yet if I denied it outright to them now, it would cause friction between us which could ignite if they later learnt I could do magic. Now, I might be able to spin it that I was young and scared, but I felt that wasn’t the way to go.
On Warrek’s table, there was a lit candle next to the bowl he’d used for cleaning my wound and changing my bandage. I considered making the flame dance but decided against it. The risks of revealing everything here and now were far greater than the rewards of having a group I trusted implicitly know that I could use magic.
“L, itt, le,” I replied slowly, suddenly glad that it hurt me to talk more than a single syllable at a time. Arianne’s brow creased as I spoke, though that might just be because I sounded more like a ninety-year-old man than my non-answer.
“We should table this for later, my lady,” Benjen said slowly, drawing mother’s attention to him. “Cregan has only just woken and has issues talking. Then there’s the fact we’re not in Sunspear or Winterfell…” he let his trail off, but the warning was easy to pick out.
“Yes, yes, you’re right,” mother agreed before sighing and shaking her head. “I know you want answers Tyene,” she added as she saw something in the blonde girl’s expression, “we all do. However, I won’t let anyone push Cregan to talk until he’s ready to and we’re somewhere… more comfortable.”
Tyene nodded slowly then glanced my way. Her eyes finally met mine and I swore I saw concern and care in them; though that might just have been because her face was awash with conflicting emotions. While I liked Tyene, her devotion to the Seven had always been an issue. According to the… fools who led the religion and sprouted its ‘wisdom’, magic was the domain of the Lord of the Seven Hells and whoever used such powers was a servant of that great evil. Fucking morons were in for a shock when the Others came south and the other threats I’d sensed in my ‘dream’ became active.
“We understand mother,” Nymeria began making it clear how serious she was as she referred to Ashara as ‘mother’. “And we’re willing to wait until our little saviour is healed and we’re somewhere more controlled to return to this conversation.” Nymeria’s eyes locked onto mine as she called me her saviour and I was glad I hadn’t hit puberty yet.
“I think we should wait until my husband is with us before we return to the topic,” my mother suggested slowly before looking back at me. “Oberyn is aware of everything that has happened and has relayed all information to Prince Doran. I suspect King,” she grimaced, “Robert will call the banners to strike back at the Ironborn as they’ve attacked at least three kingdoms. If so, a force from Dorne will be sent, as justice demands, and Oberyn will ride with the Reach forces to wherever the King,” again there was a slight grimace, “assembles the army.”
“Wh, at, fun,” I muttered, making Nymeria and Arianne giggle. Tyene smiled as did Benjen though my mother glared at me.
“I suspect my brother will also join the King’s forces,” Benjen offered.
“That… is something we should discuss privately,” mother said slowly. “For now, we need to ensure Cregan stays cared for and is given time to heal.
“Unless a request for him to move comes from Prince Doran, my brother or the King himself, I will do my utmost to ensure he doesn’t leave his bed or this keep, my lady,” Benjen offered, puffing out his chest a little. “He may be a bastard, but the blood of the wolf flows strong in his veins.”
Nymeria’s smirk grew wider at that, though she stayed quiet as mother moved closer to me, having slid round to the far side of the bed since Arianne was unwilling to move from her perch.
“I’m sure you have many questions about what’s happened, just as we have many for you. However, I don’t want you pushing yourself to speak until Maester Warrek says you are free to do so.” She leaned close and, after brushing some hair off my forehead, kissed a spot where the bandage didn’t cover it. “I thank the Gods, old and new, that you are still with me.” He pulled back and looked at everyone else in the room. “It would be best if we left and allowed Maester Warrek to return. Cregan… needs time to recover.”
“Of course, my lady,” Benjen replied, which was followed by nods from the girls though Tyene was slow to do so, and Arianne never looked at mother when she nodded.
Mother turned back to me and placed her hand on mine. “Cregan, I need you to promise me you won’t speak of what happened aboard the Sunchaser to anyone unless either myself or Benjen are present.” I nodded in agreement as I understood that the slightest slip in my story might lead to problems we’d all rather avoid. “Good, now rest. I will speak with the Maester about getting you something to eat as I imagine you’re hungry.” My stomach chose that moment to growl in agreement, making everyone smile or chuckle. “Now rest. I, I can’t lose you.” Her hand went to her stomach as she moved towards the bottom of the bed.
Arianne leaned close, though this time she only kissed my cheek, and it was a short, tender thing. As she pulled back, she smiled from behind slightly darkened cheeks, brushed a bang of my hair then slid from the bed.
Tyene stepped closer and I could see the confusion that was raging inside her in her eyes. She leaned close and copied Arianne by kissing my cheek. “I… Thank you.” She mumbled out as she pulled back. “I, I’ll pray to the Gods, old and new, for your recovery.” She offered which caught me by surprise as, up until now, she’d never once mentioned the Old Gods when talking about prayers or a blessing.
“All, ways,” I said back with a smile. That seemed to lift some of her confusion and earned me a smile in return. Though the doubt in her eyes was still there.
Before she could say anything else – if she even planned to – Nymeria pushed past her and kissed me on the nose. For a second, as she’d closed in, I’d been concerned she was going for my lips but thankfully she didn’t.
“Nymeria!” Mother shouted as the oldest girl present pulled back. The kiss was short and sweet, I smelt a hint of spice.
“We owe you for saving us,” Nymeria said, happily ignoring the glare my mother was giving her. “Though I’m not sure you’re healthy enough, or old enough, for me to thank you properly.” She added with a wink that did nothing but encourage the thoughts running through my mind.
Mother sighed loudly as I saw Tyene’s eyes narrow, and Arianne giggled lightly.
“Girls,” mother said with a hint of steel in her tone. The three girls followed her to the door before my mother shared a look with Benjen and guided the three outside. Once the door was closed Benjen came closer, a smile on his face.
“Well, if there was ever any doubt, you’re a wolf,” he commented with a chuckle, though a moment later the smile fell. “Since you’re likely concerned about it, know that your dagger has been cleaned and placed with your personal effects.” He paused and lifted his scabbard, which made him grimace suggesting he was more wounded than he was letting on, then drew the blade just enough that I could see the red rippled steel. “As for this, I’m keeping it with me at all times. While I’m grateful to Lord Quenten for hosting us, I don’t trust a Southerner as far as you could throw them. Especially one loyal to Tywin Lannister.” His tone made it clear he didn’t approve of Tywin which was likely a result of being in Dorne for several years and maturing around the anger felt by House Martell for what’d happened to Elia and her children.
Anything else was cut off by a gentle knock at the door before a young woman, around Benjen’s age, popped her head inside. “Begging your pardon, m’lord, but Maester Warrek asked me to check in on the boy.”
I couldn’t see Benjen’s face as he turned to the cute girl. “Of course. I was just speaking with my nephew. I’ll take my leave and leave him in your pretty little hands.” Benjen said, making the girl blush. While Benjen didn’t flirt openly – if one excluded when he was around Obara – I’d heard him making such comments to servant girls in Sunspear and other places. Well, at least until he’s hooked up with Obara. “I’ll come back later nephew. Until then, rest and behave.” He said to me with a smirk before sliding past the servant girl. Her blush grew as he passed and stayed with her as she came closer.
“I’ll fetch the water then wash m'lord down before the Maester returns,” she said softly before stepping out of the room. Alone, I returned my thoughts to what the Interface had revealed and the behaviour of my family.
I’d have to find a way to control my Wolfs-blood as, while very useful, I’d already seen how dangerous it was when I lost control. Though I suspected that control of the fire inside would only come with age and maturity as my body was still growing and developing. Another thing was realising that the Interface would provide information on injuries which was something that would be very, very useful in the future.
As for the girls… Well, all three were growing and maturing – more so in Nymeria’s case as she was a few years older than the others and spent more time training her body – into very attractive young ladies. Still, while I doubted that those kisses were anything more than them expressing their relief at escaping what almost happened, if it was, I wouldn’t complain. Oh, it’d be a good few years before anything could happen between us, but it was something that I knew would start to invade my dreams as my body matured.
Yes, I was older than them mentally, but unless I started chasing women my mother’s age that would always be an issue, so I’d learnt to move past it. That didn’t mean, however, that I’d start anything before everyone was physically and emotionally ready for relationships.
A yawn came forth, ending my thoughts on what the future might hold, and as the door to the room creaked open once more, I felt my eyelids grow heavy and let the whispers of sleep flood my mind.
… …