13 XIII.

Four and a half days after leaving Castle Black, Bran, along with his cousin Aegon, his uncle Benjen, and a seasoned Night's Watch ranger named Qhorin The half-hand, arrived before the gigantic clearing with the enormous Weirwood Tree in its core, which tormented his cousin Aegon so much.

After Balerion settled heavily on the snowy surface, the four occupants of the dragon descended to the ground. "By all the gods, don't think for a moment that I'll go back to the wall on that infernal

beast. I'm about to put snow inside my clothes to cool myself down." said without any filter The half hand, for some amusement from Aegon, who was now caressing the enormous muzzle of his dragon with all the sweetness in the world, causing it to emit a purr similar to that of a kitten.

'A kitten with teeth bigger than me' thought Bran internally, totally fascinated with Balerion. 'For now the squire life is quite comfortable and it is allowing me to fly in the Black Dread. I can't quite see the cons that my father warned me about before accepting Aegon's request.'

"Ēdrugon kesīr. Iksi jāre naejot bona dīnagon. Ūndegon syt qrinuntyssy, yn ȳdra daor sōvegon [1]" his cousin transmitted to the Black Terror in sing-song voice, after which Aegon gave Bran a look that indicated that he had to unload the saddlebags that hung from the enormous dragon.

"When you're done, go to the kind of entrance under theWeirwood Tree." his cousin said authoritatively.

Next, Aegon approached him and putting himself at Bran's height, placed his right hand on Bran's shoulder and spoke to him in a tone that was only audible to both of them, because uncle Benjen and the half-hand had begun to ascend the small ridge that separated them from the possible entry. "Prepare my full armor, and don your breastplate, backplate and leather engravings. I don't know what we can find there."

Taking his left hand to his right boot, Aegon took out a dagger that then put with the hilt facing Bran. "Here, I know it's not Needle nor my mother's Valyrian steel dagger, but it's good castle steel. If you continue like this, in a couple of months you will have gained muscle and I will give you your own long sword. What do you think ehm? " His cousin said with an affectionate tone and a tender look, to then play with Bran's hair a bit.

Looking at the dagger, Bran took it and then turned his eyes to his cousin, who was still in a straight line to his gaze. "Aegon, why did you want me to come and not your father? If there is a fight or a dangerous situation, I will be more a burden than help." he expressed with a trembling voice the question that Bran had been asking himself over and over again since he learned that Aegon had decided that his squire had to be with him at this time.

Something in his words had an effect on his cousin, because Aegon's eyes began to sparkle as they did sometimes since he lived whatever Aegon has lived through the ritual of his sister-wife, Visenya 'The truth, no one, not even himself, is clear what Aegon is my cousin. If Aegon the Conqueror, or Aegon the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna' Bran thought when he saw in his cousin attitudes that he had never seen before in his life, as in this case, that bright silvery and purple sparkle in his eyes that amazed and imposed in equal measure. This, combined with his new all- silver hair color that grew exponentially every day, made Bran sometimes feel that his cousin really was the Conqueror.

Smiling warmly, how Bran had rarely seen him since the night of the ritual, Aegon addressed him in a warm, sweet voice. "Honestly Bran, I think my squire has to be by my side. I would be a bad knight if I do not trust you've the capabilities to be ready to face whatever we could face together... Besides, you are like a brother to me, it doesn't matter if we are cousins by blood...and something inside me told me that you had to come with me to this place...I can't explain this second reason better, but I hope you understand it and that you know that I would never deliberately put you in a dangerous situation." after which, Aegon hugged him so tightly that he almost broke him.

When Aegon separated from the embrace and stood up again in full, his cousin looked at Bran again and smiling said "Not only you are going to be a knight one day, but you can tell your children that you witnessed something magical, why, don't tell me that such a place shouldn't have some magic to be so beautiful? " finished Aegon while gesturing as he spread his arms and looked

around the two of them.

Looking closely, Bran could see crows flying between the crowns of the trees bent by the weight of the snow, forming a kind of circle around a hill completely covered with snow and without any vegetation, except for the giant Weirwood Tree which seemed to be in a kind of cleft in the top of the hill. The red leaves of the cup glittered and gleamed in the last rays of the day's sun.

When his uncle Benjen and the ranger of the Watch reached about twenty yards from the kind of cleft, a flock of night-black ravens and a little girl with a torch in her hand came out. Seeing this, his cousin Aegon left Bran with Balerion performing his squire duties and quickened his pace towards where uncle stood with the half-hand.

After Bran unloaded all the saddlebags and bags, he did as his cousin told him and put on the leather breastplate and back, as well as the greaves. This, added to the sacks with the provisions and Aegon's armor, which despite being Valyrian steel, continued to weigh, caused that when leaving the area where Balerion had evaporated the snow, Bran sank almost to the waist from the weight and amount of snow there was around and under him.

The ascent that seemed easy from below, left him almost breathless by the time he reached the height of the three men, who were with astonished faces, as if not believing what they saw before them.

Since Bran had enough to breathe, he had not yet realized the reason that led the three men to be in such a state. As he stared, Bran saw how the three of them were staring at the figure he previously had identified as a little girl, with wild, uncombed hair.

When he saw her up close, his surprise was such that Aegon's armor fell to the ground with a crash 'Great, now I'm going to have to polish it again.'He sourly thought for a moment, before refocusing on the reason for his surprise. Bran narrowed his eyes, to see her better. After that, he opened and closed his eyes a couple of times, to see if what was seeing in front of him was real.

She was a girl, smaller than Arya. Her skin was mottled, under a blanket of leaves that served as a dress. Her eyes were strange: big and liquid, gold and green, like a cat's. Nobody has eyes like that. Her hair was a tangle of brown, red, and gold, autumn colors, with vines and twigs and wilted flowers woven through it.

Because no one seemed to speak and therefore break the kind of spell that had been created, Bran decided to exercise of what he was and without hesitation, asked with just a small voice to the little and between green and brownish being.

"Are you one of the Children of the Forest?" Bran's voice seemed to pull the mythical being out of the block she was suffering, and with a high and sweet voice, like a strange music like none Bran had ever heard, and loaded with a sadness which Bran thought could break his heart, the mythical being answered Bran's question.

"The first men called us children," said the little woman. "The giants called us woh dak nag gran, the squirrel people, because we were small and fast, and we like trees. But we are not squirrels, and we are not children either. Our name in the True Language means those who sing the song of the earth. Before your age, that of the spoken language, we had sung our songs for ten thousand years. I am one of the last singers of the earth."

Like Bran, the rest of them couldn't believe what they had before them. They had fallen into one of the old tales of old Nan. Without leaving any possible question to any of those present at such revelation, the Child of the forest 'Or should I say Singer of the Earth' continued speaking.

"My name is Leaf and my mission was and is, to be here to receive you. He is waiting for you, Aegon Targaryen and Brandon Stark" the magical being concluded, giving Bran's a look that he felt was piercing to his soul.

Then she motioned for the two of them to accompany her, and ducked through the cleft under the base of the great white tree. Aegon didn't hesitate and began to go after her.

"The two of us will be watching here, if something happens we will get in to warn you. If you would like to ask for some firewood to..." said uncle Benjen, while gesturing with his chin towards the cleft "we can set up a makeshift camp here in the entrance. Fortunately we have plenty of supplies for the four of us for almost a fortnight." Uncle Benjen finished with a carefree tone, and then fixed his gaze on him and his cousin Aegon.

His gray eyes, lighter than Bran's father's, with a hint of bluish tint, seemed to reflect fear at what might happen to them. Taking a step forward, uncle approached Aegon and placed his right hand on Aegon's left shoulder, while in a warm but tremulous voice said

"Jo... Aegon, be careful in there. I know that after all the shit you've been through, you must be more than familiar with magic, but we are talking about the fucking Children of the Forest ... if the legends are true, which at this point would not surprise me, they helped to create this world and life... those are big words...." Uncle's eyes fully fixed on Aegon's, his hand squeezing the shoulder where it rested.

Changing his tone, to a more relaxed one, while letting go of Aegon, uncle looked at them both, and said "Also if something happened to you, both Lya and Ned would chase me through the seven hells to punish me for not protecting you." to which the three of them outlined smiles, imagining his father, or Bran's aunt angry with their uncle 'After what I saw the night of Aegon's return, it is clear to me that the last thing I want to be, is to be the center of my father's or my aunt Lyanna anger.'

Leaf, as the Child of the forest had said her name was, waved a torch from the black crevice of the cave. "Our path is ahead. You both must come with me now to complete your destiny, and understand the reason for your fate."

Bran shuddered again at the way Leaf said those words and addressed the two of them, urging them to enter the black cave. Abruptly, the incompressible images he had been having since the night of Aegon's name day flashed through his mind again.

One of the occurrences since that night was that every night when he slept, he dreamed that he was inside his wolf. Without quite knowing why, after the whole truth about the Rebellion was known, Bran was compelled to try to comfort his newfound aunt Lyanna. As he did so, Bran felt a chill run through his entire body, as he remembered all the moments he had lived with Aegon, whom Bran immediately recognized as if he had known all his life for who he was. 'I once again have the uneasy feeling I had during the night of the ritual ... a feeling of having already been here, of having lived this ... that my life was destined for this moment' Bran thought as he swallowed hard, in an act that tried to reaffirm his worth. He then cast a questioning glance at his cousin, to see what they were doing next. After looking at each other, and nodding, they followed in the steps of the little creature.

The path was narrow and winding, and so low, that in some places Aegon had to duck, and yet the top of his head was soon scraping and crashing against the ceiling. Loose earth crumbled with each touch, trickling down the band of ruby-encrusted Valyrian steel and his cousin's fledgling silver hair, making them both now appear ash-colored. 'Something is here, that even the earth is capable of dulling the shine of Valyrian steel and hair' thought that caused a chill to run down Bran's spine.

The girl stepped forward, torch in hand, the cloak of leaves she wore for clothing, whispering behind her, but the passage turned so much that Bran and his cousin soon lost sight of her. Soon the only light they had to guide them was the one reflected off the walls of the passage. After continuing down a bit, the cave split, but the left branch was dark, so they continued towards the moving light to the right.

The way the shadows moved made it look like the walls were moving too. Bran saw what appeared to be large white snakes slithering in and out of the earth around him, and his heart began to race in fear. Bran began to wonder if they had crawled into a nest of soft, pale, squishy milk snakes or giant worms.

Aegon saw them too, standing up immediately "By all hells, what the in the gods name is that?"Exclaimed his cousin, who seemed reluctant to continue without having an explanation of what was in their environment.

But when the girl retraced her steps, the light of the torch stabilized, and Bran realized that the snakes were only white roots. "They are wooden roots," the mythical being said dryly, to resume her accelerated step forward.

"Okay, it seems that we have no excuses to escape from our destiny and fate" Aegon said with a certain tired tone at the same time resigned, almost more for himself than for Bran.

Aegon reached over his right shoulder, drew Blackfyre and lunged forward, hurrying after the girl and the torch she carried, deeper in the earth. At Aegon's resolve, Bran took a deep breath and continued in his cousin's footsteps, making to what seemed like the bowels of the earth. They passed another branch, and then another and later into a cavern of echoes as large as the great hall in Winterfell, with stone teeth hanging from its ceiling and more peeking out from the floor. The girl with the leafy cloak for garments, wove a path through them. Every now and then she would stop and wave the torch at them impatiently. This way, she seemed to say, faster.

There were more side passages after that, more cameras, and Bran heard water dripping somewhere to his right. He looked away and saw eyes, staring at them, narrowed eyes that glowed brightly, reflecting the light from the torches. 'More children' he told himself.

"It seems that the girl is not the only one left." Bran said in a low and trembling tone to his cousin, who turned to him, and then to where he was looking. After that, Aegon looked at him and nodded with a certain astonished face.

They continued to advance, seeing that it was more and more apparent that the roots were everywhere, wriggling through the earth and stone, closing some passages and supporting the roofs of others. 'All color is gone' Bran realized suddenly.

The world was a black floor and a white wooden ceiling. The Weirwood Tree in Winterfell had roots as thick as the legs of a giant, but these were even thicker. And Bran had never seen so many of them in one place 'There must be a grove of Weirwoods Trees above us, but where? We have flown over the area, and the only Weirwood Tree that could be seen was the one on top the hill.' mused Bran

The light dimmed again. Small as she was, the girl moved quickly how she wanted. His cousin Aegon, a lot bigger and taller than she, and totally unaware of where they were entering, continued to move more slowly behind her. After a few meters, something began to creak under Bran's cousin's feet.

Aegon's halt was so sudden that Bran nearly smashed into his back. "Bones." said Bran's cousin in

a cold serious tone, his body tense and on guard. "We are stepping on bones."

Looking into the gloom of the cavernous room, Bran could see that the floor was littered with the bones of birds and beasts. But there were other bones as well, large that must have come from giants and small that might have been from humans.

On either side of them, in niches carved in stone, skulls gazed at them. Sharpening his eyes even more, he saw a bear skull and a wolf skull, half a dozen human skulls, and close to as many giants. All the others were small, strangely shaped. 'Children of the forest' quickly realized. There were crows perched above them, watching them vigilantly with gleaming black eyes.

The last part of their dark journey was the steepest. They both slipped, fell on their backs, and ended up making the final descent on their asses, colliding and sliding downward in a clatter of broken bones, loose dirt, and pebbles.

The girl was waiting for them with an amused expression on her unearthly face, standing at one end of a natural bridge over an unfathomable abyss. Down in the dark, Bran heard the sound of running water. 'Surely it is an underground river.'

"Do we have to cross?" Bran asked incredulously, attitude that Aegon seemed to share with him. The prospect of crossing scared him. If they slipped on that narrow bridge, they would fall and fall.

"No, boy." said the girl. "Look behind you." she raised her torch higher, and the light seemed to shift and change.

In a moment the flames burned orange and yellow, filling the cavern with a bright reddish color; Then all the colors faded, leaving only black and white. His cousin Aegon was totally pale, muttering something in High Valyrian, which Bran thought understood as not again.

When Aegon turned on himself, he gasped in surprise. As Bran turned, too, he understood why Aegon was startled.

Before them, a man, or what was once a man. Pale, with ebony trim, he sat dreaming. The being was entangled in a nest of roots, a woven wooden throne that hugged its withered body.

Its body was so skeletal and his black clothes so rotten that at first Bran took him for another corpse, a dead man supported so long that roots had grown over him, under him, and through him. The man's cadaverous skin was white as the full moon, except for a bloody stain in form of a crow that ran up his neck to his cheek. His white hair was fine and thin as a hair root and had passed long enough for it to skim the dirt floor. Roots wrapped around his legs like wooden snakes. One of them buried in his pants, between the dried flesh of his thigh, to emerge again from his shoulder. A stream of dark red leaves sprouted from his skull, as did gray mushrooms on his forehead. A little skin remained, stretched over his face, taut and hard like white leather, but even that was worn, and here and there the yellow bone underneath was poking at the surface.

"Are you the raven of the ritual?" Bran listened without understanding at all what his cousin, who was as tight as a bowstring before releasing the bolt, suddenly asked.

Aegon's eyes were hard and sparkling, totally zoomed in the figure that rested between the branches and roots of the white tree. The knuckles of Bran's cousin right hand totally white from the force on his grasp on Blackfyre, which had put in a position that pointed directly towards the being, because something else could it not be, what was before them.

But still, Bran did not understand why Aegon had referred to this being as a raven 'A raven is not a

man, and besides, this is not even a complete man. For missing it, even one of the eyes is missing. He only has one, and it's red.' Bran thought as he watched the scene unfold before him.

Yet despite the being's gaze fixed on Aegon, at the same time, Bran could feel the eye staring at him, glowing like a pool of blood in the torchlight. Where his other eye should have been, a thin white root grew from the socket of his empty eye, down his cheek, and his neck.

"A raven?" The pale voice of the being was dry and vibrant, it seemed that it came from the bowels of the earth, distilling magic in each of his intonations. His lips moved slowly, as if they had forgotten how to form the words. "Once, yes. Black of clothes and black of blood."

The clothes the being was wearing were rotten and faded, stained with moss and eaten with worms, but Bran could tell they had once been black. "I have been many things, Aegon. Now I am how you see me, to await your arrival I had to merge with this tree and now you will understand why I could not go to you...except during your sister's ritual. I've seen you for a long time, I've seen you with a thousand eyes and one. I saw your two births and the death of your lord father long before he fell on the Trident. I saw your first step, I heard your first word, I was part of your first dream and I was watching when you stabbed yourself in front of your mother's tomb. And now, at last, you have come to me, Aegon Targaryen." The red eye of the pale being seemed to penetrate Aegon, who was practically shaking himself from the tremors he had. His already white skin had turned marbled and beaded with sweat. It seemed like Aegon couldn't move.

Suddenly, the man, the being, or the raven, as his cousin had named him, turned his head and fixed it on Bran, piercing him with his eye, as if he were able to see beyond his own soul. Not knowing why, Bran began to shake uncontrollably, feeling as if his muscles had turned to jelly. Sweat was pouring into him, but cold sweat was soaking him through. The hairs of his body like spine.

"And besides, you have brought someone to replace me in Brandon Stark, although for this, I think the time is late and he will not be able to learn everything he will need." The voice boomed as if it were an echo that spread throughout the cave.

"I'm here," Aegon said in a small voice that reminded Bran a lot of his pre-ritual cousin when Aegon confronted his mother, "only I'm not the Aegon it should be. Will you ... will you fix it? ... Will you bring the real Aegon, I mean?" said shakily and almost whispering Bran's cousin.

"No." said the pale lord flatly. "That's impossible, because that Aegon is already here."

Bran's cousin's eyes filled with tears, but his attitude seemed to be recomposing, regaining the rectitude and determination that he had shown since he went through what he went through in the ritual.

"The Dragon and the Dragon reborn, you are and have always been one and the same, born with a destiny and a responsibility; Eradicate the Death forever." the pale lips promised.

"You and the Conqueror are two, but at the same time one. Without you, Aegon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, there would have been no Dragon. Without Dragon, son of Aerion Targaryen and Valaena Velaryon, there would be no Dragon Reborn, Shadow King. You were always predestined to be the same being, you have always been the same person, you are the song of Ice and Fire made flesh. Without the one, the other would not have existed and without the other, the one would not have been." the being explained as if it were something simple, leaving Bran understanding even less than before, although it seemed that Aegon was gradually understanding certain things.

Before he or his cousin could say anything, the man in the tree continued speaking in his magical,

afterlife voice. "The first Dragon was already here to fight the first long night, but he still could not control the song of fire and he had to make great sacrifices to stop them temporarily, and all memory of him was lost, as he returned to the east to heal from his soul wounds and pass what knowledge he learned from Westeros. The second Dragon was the song of fire made flesh, which prevented the Death from awakening. He broke the balance when departed from his destiny, forging the Seven Kingdoms with fire and blood instead of the Freehold of Valyria ... The third Dragon is the song of Ice and Fire made flesh, you Aegon Targaryen are the one who will bring the balance to the powers of the world, creating a new one in the process ... or you will be responsible for the cease of all life on Planetos." sentenced the voice from beyond the grave, which seemed to reverberate from each branches out of the cave to expand where he and his cousin Aegon stood.

Aegon had wiped his tears with the back of his left hand and sheathed Blackfyre in his back, now looking calmer and resigned to his fate. 'If I think I understand something of this madness, it is that my cousin, or rather, my cousin's soul, has had at least three lives, but at the same time being the same and unique in each of these lives.' thought Bran, trying to understand what had just said the strange being.

Despite this, Bran still had a feeling of unease and fear that he did not quite understand 'Isn't it just Aegon who is involved in the ritual? Why did it say that I will be its substitute? Who is this being?' Unable to hold on any longer, Bran addressed himself with a shrill and trembling voice, but with a certain decision, to the magical being.

"Who are you? What do you want from us?" Bran said, anticipating his cousin and the being from speaking.

The being looked at Bran, and made what seemed to be a hint of a smile, "The last greenseer, the singers called me... I used to have many names when I was still fast and young, but even I once had a mother, and the name she gave me on the chest was Brynden."

"I have an Uncle Brynden." Bran said. "He's my mother's uncle, really. Brynden Blackfish, his name is."

"Your uncle may have been named after me. Some, especially in the Riverlands where I was born, are still named in my honor. Not as many as before. Men forget. Only trees remember." The voice was so soft that Bran had to strain to hear.

"Brynden Rivers?...As in Bloodraven?" Aegon exclaimed at Bran's side, expressing all the disbelief in the world.

"Indeed nephew. Or should I say, grandfather from fourteen generations ago? My father was named in your honor and my brother carried your sword. Does it surprise you that someone in our family is related to magic? ... also like you, I have the blood of the first men and that of the old Valyria, although from this last one unlike you, I inherited little from magic...instead my sister Shiera... She was the one who alerted me of the ritual and the prophecy of Visenya and Rhaenys's dream. From then on, and despite the wars between brothers, she and I dedicated ourselves to preparing for the moment when you would return, because we knew that the Others and Death would return with your birth. All my actions in the service of House Targaryen were with the intention of strengthening our position in the face of the real enemy and the Great War against Death, Alas... I did not always achieve what I wanted, nor was I able to foresee the magnitude of my mistakes."

"Are you saying that you have been preparing for my arrival for almost a hundred and thirty years? What mistakes? You told me I'd find answers here, and all I find is more riddles and inscrutability.

I can understand about the Conqueror and me; Deep down inside me, since I was transported to his body I always knew it, just like him. But, the first Dragon? That I have always been destined for this? What about Senya's ritual and prophecy? What about Bran being your substitute? ... I need explanations Bloodraven, and I need them right now." Aegon's voice seemed not to admit discussions or more answers locked in riddles.

Bran's cousin stance was now utterly determined, fully erect, his eyes fixed on Lord Brynden Rivers, one of the Great Bastards of the Unworthy. 'When everyone thought them almost extinct, it turns out that there are at least five Targaryen left alive in this world.' Bran reflected, trying to see some sense on everything he was experiencing since arriving at the clearing with the Weirwood, at the same time he remembered the words of his cousin when they got off Balerion 'I think that with this, I am having magical experiences for the rest of my life'.

Bran turned his eyes towards Bloodraven, who seemed to hesitate what to say, until he seemed to decide what to say. "All your sister-wife did was to open a portal in time, using the soul of the Aegon of her future, our present, you, and the soul of the Aegon of her present, our past, The Conqueror. Your death really gave rise to the one, and the resurrection of the other, of you, gave death to the one ... It wasn't Rhaenys's death that changed Aegon, it was that a part of him stopped being with him after the ritual, not only his Valyrian steel armor forever lost ... until your resurrection eleven days ago." Bloodraven's voice that reverberated throughout the cave, seemed to explain to his cousin as if he were a small child.

Although it was difficult to understand, Bran was beginning to make sense of it, and certainly all his suspicions that Visenya Targaryen was a witch from Old Valyria were now confirmed.

"You are here not only because of the Dragonstone ritual, no... Every one of the violent deaths of the last three hundred years is the reason you now are here, Aegon. Each of the internal struggles of house Targaryen are part of the process by which your father, your mother, the dragons and yourself are here among the living. The blood that Westeros has been watering and spilling over its lands, has been feeding the spell of the ritual, in order to fulfill your sister's prophecy. My role in it was simply to act as a guide and trigger for you to perform your part of the ritual, shedding the final blood necessary for it to take effect. Spilling the blood of Old Valyria an that of the Kings of Winter on the fire in which the Dragon began, ended and was reborn, that by chance, also consumed your parents." Bloodraven finished, in a cold voice devoid of any warmth, but at the same time Lord Brynden seemed as he was excusing himself for what happened.

"Are you telling me that I killed myself because of you?" Aegon practically yelled, who seemed to start to rage.

The affirmation with the head of Bloodraven seemed to fan the flames inside Aegon, as he continued to pressure his ancestor 'O descendant, the truth is that it is impossible to know the family relationship of my cousin with the rest of the Targaryen family. According to Bloodraven's words, my cousin is his own ancestor...I don't want to imagine the internal conflict that must be happening inside Aegon's head.' without being able to continue with Bran's thoughts, Aegon again inquired about how little Lord Brynden had implied.

"If you've been preparing for my arrival all this time, how did you let the Summerhall happen? Why didn't you do anything to stop my grandfather? Why didn't you tell my father, or Maester Aemon? Do you think that the situation in Westeros is ideal for me to face a legendary enemy, whom I imagine, you will have no idea how to defeat?" the caustic tone of his cousin Aegon, and the aggressiveness that emanated from him, made clear the repulsion that Aegon was feeling for Bloodraven, accompanied with a certain reproach.

Bloodraven, for his part, seemed not to be taken for granted, as he did not change his expression, merely replying with his cold and reverberating voice, while fixing his red eye on Bran's cousin. "As I told you, I made mistakes, the first of which was to underestimate the order of the Arch Maesters and to what lengths the conclave of the Citadel would be able to go in order to see our end. Summerhall is the product of betrayal and not a sudden madness of Egg ... and your grandfather was the biggest of my mistakes ... My induced dreams ... let's say that instead of showing him the threat, what they did was drive him crazy, since he ended up seeing everything in the world threatens that he had to burn...At least that I do know and I can tell you; the fire destroys their demonic puppets, the wights and weakens the Others. Your father, as you know well, has the gift of dragon dreams, just like Rhaenys, so neither Shiera nor I need to intervene with him... And Aemon, knew exactly about your arrival, but he did not want to intervene due to his concept of duty, very similar of that to your uncle Eddard..."

"But if you can see in time, why haven't you intervened in it?" Bran heard himself ask himself.

Aegon turned and looked at him with some annoyance, but Bloodraven smiled and produced a sound that must have been a laugh, but was more like the cawing of all the crows present in the cave. Turning towards him, and with a voice warmer than the one he had been using up to that moment, answered his question.

"Great question Brandon Stark, it shows that you have it in your blood. But I warn you before you take my place, the past is written, the ink is dry ... Everything is written from the beginning to the end, and each one has his destiny and fate. That is what I have learned throughout all these years. The past can only be contemplated and not for too long, because you run the risk of being trapped in time. Remember this, you cannot try to alter the past or the future, only the present. Aegon is the only exception and that is due to his blood and the arcane arts of old Valyria... And more I cannot explain."

"Because you don't know or because you don't want to?" Aegon asked in a firm tone full of disgust. His face was flushed and his attitude denoted that although he now knew more about the ritual and why it was, Aegon still seemed to not understand many things, which undoubtedly seemed to infuriate Bran's cousin. Aegon's eyes were twinkles of light in the gloom of the cavernous room, as he waited for Bloodraven's answer.

No doubt his cousin expected clearer answers. 'Well, at least he knows why and how he, the dragons and his parents are here. And we know that everything is related to Visenya and the magic of Old Valyria, surely in Essos we will find more information.'

Bran was trying to rationally think of a way to ease his cousin's conflict in the future, before Bloodraven spoke in a different voice, but even more magical and ominous than before. "Because it isn't your time yet, nor will be I the one to tell you, Dragon Reborn. Now your cousin Brandon must take my place, for my time is running out. You will need a guide and someone to help you, as I helped my brothers."

After these words from Bloodraven, Aegon closed his eyes and breathed deeply, to turn towards Bran, and with a voice that was certainly tense, and a cloudy look with eyes that ranged from deep purple to greyish black, tell him. "Bran, I'm going to be out with Uncle Benjen, I imagine you will have your own doubts to clarify here with Lord Brynden, although as he is specific with you as he has been with me, I believe that you will end up understanding less than you think you understand now." after that, Bran's brother by choice, shook his head slightly, snorted and continued "In a couple of hours I'll see how you are. Don't leave this place." After which Aegon turned, looked scornfully at Bloodraven, and retraced the steps that had led them to the core of roots from the white tree.

"First of all, go to the base of the tree. To my left, on a moss-covered cloth are two objects. One belongs to you and only to you. Only you will be able to display this banner, which from this day on will be your sigil and that of your descendants if you have. When you meet again with all the Dragons in Essos, you will have to incorporate a quarter to its left with a howling white wolf with blood eyes, facing to the left. The other object is not yours, but it is yours to give. only you will know to whom and when to give it."

Bran shyly approached the base of the tree, surprised that Bloodraven did not give off any kind of odor 'I could have sworn it would smell like a decomposing corpse, however it only smells of earth and vegetation'.

Leaning over the left side of the tree, Bran found the cloth Lord Brynden was referring to, completely covered in dirt and moss, completely threadbare, to the point that it began to fall apart in his hands. When he unwrap the hilt, he couldn't help but utter a gasp of surprise and amazement. Before him he had none other than Dark Sister, the sword of Visenya Targaryen, Aemon the Dragon Knight and Bloodraven. Around it, acting as sheath, a cloth of exquisite black silk, with silver threads wrapped around it.

When unfolding it to see the steel of the mythical sword, he saw that the black cloth of silk was neither more nor less, than the banner that a little more than a century ago inspired fear and respect in equal parts, among those who contemplated it in front of them. A rampant dragon in silver- white, looking to the right, while ejecting a blood red flame 'The banner carried by the Raven's Teeth at Red Grass Field in the first Blackfyre Rebellion, or before the White Walls of the Butterwell during the second Rebellion.'

So fascinated was Bran with the discovery of Lord Brynden Rivers' sigil that he had not yet fallen

into the smoking steel of Dark Sister, which appeared either totally black, or bathed in blood red, depending on the incidence of the torch light. The ripples in the steel looked like arteries of a living being. 'Neither Ice, nor Blackfyre, convey this feeling ay seeing it. Without a doubt it must be the most magical sword on earth.' thought Bran quickly, although he soon remembered that he lacked to know a sword even more mythical than that of his father or that of his cousin, or this one in front of him. Dawn. 'There would be time to know her.

Bloodraven's voice snapped him out of his reverie "It usually has that effect when you first see it. Remember by the time you decide to give it, that it is a sword that feeds on blood. When the time comes, you will understand. In the meantime you can use it, I think it is light enough for you and thus I am ahead of your cousin in the promise he made you a while ago. If you are going to assume my position as defender and herald of house Targaryen, whose fate is already eternally related to that of the Starks, what better way to do it than with the sword of those who above personal whims and earthly motivations, defended above all and first of all, the house Targaryen. By accepting these two objects, I do not ask you, but rather that, I demand a blood oath, Brandon Stark." Bloodraven's voice became hard, cold and threatening, Suddenly Bran felt a chill all over his body, but he had no doubt what his response would be.

"If with blood I have to swear the protection of my family, I will swear so" he replied with all the seriousness and firmness that he was able to gather, while he rested his temporary sword on the white tree and hung the sigil as a cloak to his back, hooked to the breast plate. When the maneuver was over, he went to grab the dagger his cousin had given him, but Bloodraven stopped him.

"You haven't to paid in blood yet, you will soon, but don't be so eager to do it. You must first understand my motivations and those of House Targaryen. What I'm going to tell you now, except for Aegon to a certain extent, Rhaenys to other certain extent, and the Conqueror's sister-wife, Visenya, only two people know, and one is me. You would be the third in knowing everything then I will disappear, do you understand, Brandon?" Lord Brynden inquired as he rested his bloody eye firmly on Bran's.

At that moment, Bran was terrified of what it would mean to be Bloodraven's substitute and what the payment in blood might consist of. Horrified at the prospect, Bran asked him. "To accept my destiny, do I have to end up in a tree like you? Is that my payment in blood? Being pierced by a multitude of branches in a dark cave north of the wall, in the middle of nowhere?" Just thinking about it Bran wanted to flee the place.

Noticing his stress and almost panic, Bloodraven calmed Bran down, with a voice that within the magical and beyond, could be described as paternal "No boy, not at all... Your destiny is to fly with the Dragons. You will never be chained, but you will never be free to follow your feelings. If you accept, today you will resign to be Lord or King one day. If you accept, you will give up having trueborn children or finding comfort in love. Your destiny will be full of burdens and you will find little happiness in it. But your intervention, your direction and your help can make a difference in the future of living beings in this world. You will truly become the last Greenseer; the living memory of the world. Are you able to accept this fate, Brandon Stark?"

Bran began to ponder what Lord Brynden had just told him. It was a very important decision, from which there certainly seemed to be no turning back. On one hand, he always saw himself in the future as a warrior of legend like Symeon Star-Eyes or Florian, or a King's Guard from the songs like Ser Robin Darklyn, Ser Gyles Morrigen, Ser Steffon Darklyn and Ser Arthur Dayne.

Or even like the White Lion himself, the Protector of the princess, especially now that his aunt and sister were princesses of the dynasty. But it was one thing to be a King's guard, and another thing what Bloodraven was offering Bran, although in essence he had to give up the same things, it was

something completely different. Yet he knew what he must do, and just as his cousin had done, Bran must accept fate and make the best of it.

"Yes, I accept" Bran said solemnly, nodding his head at the same time.

"Agree. As you well know, it all begins with Rhaenys's dream, although you will soon see this... Ten years after the Conquest, Visenya performed her ritual, by which she transported your cousin soul to the five and ten name day of Aegon the Conqueror. In that way, Visenya, I don't know if consciously or unconsciously, created a time paradox. Originally she intended to send her brother, herself, her sister and the dragons to the moment the Others awakened, performing an incantation and a spell that had not been performed since the Doom of Valyria." Bloodraven explained.

"Yes, that's what Aegon told me." Bran said, to which Bloodraven nodded, to continue his narrative.

"Because she did not know it, the power for the spell to completely work required far more blood than the three bastard children of Orys Baratheon, so it really took 287 years for the ritual to become a reality while the ground of the earth in which it had been performed was soaked with enough blood in the form of a sacrifice-offering for the spell. In the end Visenya simply succeeded in that instead of taking Aegon and his sisters forward in time, she merged her, her sister and your cousin and the Conqueror and his sisters into one and same person, for later sending back their souls to theirs presently dead bodies, or in case of your cousin, also resurrecting Aegon's parents in the process unintentionally. That was because Aegon died in the crypts in front of the tomb of his mother Lyanna, and because your lord father Eddard buried Rhaegar alongside Lyanna. If Aegon had died elsewhere, neither of them would have come back to life, only Aegon. In the same way, the dragons of the Conqueror have been also able to return because Eddard Stark deposited in his sister's grave the three eggs in possession of house Targaryen that he found in the Tower of Joy. Except for the death and resurrection of Aegon and his sisters, which is something fated, everything else in Visenya's ritual is conditioned by the context in which your cousin died." Lord Brynden paused for a long time, as the word 'Died' repeated endlessly in the echoes of the cave.

Lord Brynden sighed as regretful or tired, Bran could not say well, and continued to tell the truth after the Visenya ritual eleven days ago, with his otherworldly voice. "The important and crucial thing is that when Visenya performed the ritual, unexpectedly caused the temporal paradox by which your cousin is fated, to always, when he reaches his fifth and tenth day of the name, die for one cause or another, to be resurrected imbued by the soul of the Dragon, where he literally lived, lives and will live for twenty-two days of his name, because it was really him."Bloodraven paused to see if Bran was still attentive to the story and understanding it. Trying to show that this was so, Bran nodded, which Lord Brynden took as a signal to proceed.

"That same day, Visenya vowed to protect House Targaryen in exchange for curses to be placed on her and her offspring if not. Because the ritual itself entailed the death of at least a member of his family, your cousin, Visenya's life and that of her son were cursed, preventing the continuation of their line. Causing in the long term, Visenya's oath and prophecy as well as Rhaenys's prophetic dream, to be forgotten. At the death of Jaehaerys the Old, few, if any, member of the Targaryen family remembered the true motivation behind the conquest of Westeros...And so it was until my sister and lover, Shiera Seastar, began to have dragon dreams and I to have visions of the past and glimpses of the future during my sleepless nights in bed. I soon realized that I was a skin-changer, a warg, but more than that, I was a Greenseer. I had the ability to see the past through the eyes of the Old Gods, through the Weirwoods Trees scattered throughout the world. You also have that ability, and if the singers are not wrong you will be the last and the most powerful. You will be able to access the consciousness of any living being, even humans... but I'm getting ahead of myself... Upon discovering Visenya's prophecy and oath, my sister and I discovered that the first

Long night was was defeated by two people; your past self, Brandon the Builder and the first Dragon or first Valyrian, known in memory as Azor Ahaí or the Last Hero, but whose real name I don't know." when Bloodraven stopped again in his speech, Bran, who was beginning to see a pattern to where the conversation could lead, asked the former Hand of the King of two Kings of Westeros.

"He was the person you referred earlier when talking to my cousin, right?" When Bloodraven nodded, and seeing that he had not developed the story of the first dragon for his cousin, Bran asked a question that feared his answer

"And is it true that Azor Ahai had to plunge his sword into Nissa Nissa, the love of his life?" Bran couldn't help but think of his sister Arya and Aegon's love for her. Maybe it wasn't an adult love, but there was certainly no one to whom his cousin professed more love than his sister. 'Well, now that his mother is back among mortals, Arya may have been displaced a bit, but still I don't think Aegon was capable of killing either of them. Not even if not doing so, would lead to the doom of humanity.'

"That's right, but it was never said that Nissa NIssa was strictly human ... Surely as a Northerner you know the story of the thirteenth Lord Commander of the Night's Watch..." Bloodraven's voice had a certain tone of challenge, to which Bran did not hesitate to answer.

"Of course I know him. In his guards by the wall, one night he saw a white woman, like the full moon on a dark night, and he fell in love... Wait, Nissa Nissa was one of the Others?" the realization was turning every belief Bran had about the first long night upside down.

'If Azor Ahai killed his beloved, how did a Valyrian come to love one of the Others and why did her death not mean the end of the Others, as the legend established?' Lord Brynden seemed to read Bran's thoughts, because he began to answer not only the question he had asked, but all the ones that had formed in his head and more that he couldn't even dream off.

"Before being one of the others, she was also the first ascendant of Valyria, who together with her husband, accompanied a group of the first men on their crossing of the Arm of Dorne, before the singers of Earth shattered by ancient magic. One of the leaders of these first men, was your ancestor, Brandon the builder, hence the presence of his buildings from the south of Westeros, to the Wall in the north of the same continent. He founded your house and helped the first scion of Valyria to temporarily defeat the Others, until they reawakened moved by the imbalance in the Music of the World. The builder taught the first Valyrian how to enter the minds of other beings, something that he would later apply with the small winged worms of fire that grew on the tops of theFourteen Flames. Thus the Valyrians tamed the dragons." Bran was totally perplexed. Bloodraven was revealing secrets that no one in the world except himself and one other person knew, and these of course were absolutely changing his view of history, not only of Westeros, but of entire Planetos.

"As you can see, House Stark and the blood of old Valyria have been linked from the beginning of the age of men, back to the Age of Heroes. Therefore the defender of house Targaryen is not only defending the political interests of the same, but is above that. The defender of house Targaryen is, and that has been my role until today, to ensure that humanity, through the only ones who can defeat the Darkness, the Targaryen as the only pure descendants of Valyria, triumph against the Others .If your cousin is the balance in the Music, you will be the one to correct the score so that it sounds harmonically." Brynden Rivers continued, although Bran was still unable to give coherent form to the wealth of information he was receiving, he knew that at the bottom of everything Bloodraven was telling him, there were the missing answers on how to defeat the others and his fate and Aegon's.

When the old man half corroded by time saw that Bran was assimilating what he had said and nodded at Leaf, who hung the torch from a bracket on the wall of the cavernous room and quickly disappeared by the opposite side to which his cousin Aegon had left.

"Thus, your role as defender of the Targaryen family is part of defending the world from the threat of the Darkness and Death. Thanks to the magic of your blood from the first men, which I assure you, you will need, you will help to guide the Dragon Reborn. Do you swear that first and foremost that you would only have in mind the good of house Targaryen, even if this conflicts with your own interests?" Bloodraven's voice took on the reverberation of when he spoke to his cousin Aegon, seeming to come from the very bowels of the earth.

At this point, Bran knew he had to continue, so he nodded and said with a firm voice and a determined gaze, fully erect in front of the white tree where Bloodraven's wasted body rested. "I swear on the old and new Gods. I swear on my honor as Stark."

Suddenly, and without knowing why, something possessed Bran and he continued speaking, but really without controlling what he was saying, as if someone had got hold of him, but in reality he knew it was himself "I swear by earth and water; I swear by bronze and iron; I swear by ice and fire."

"It's time." Lord Brynden said to none one. Something in his voice sent icy fingers running down Bran's back. "Time for what?" he asked nervously.

"For your next step. So you can go beyond the oath and learn what it means to be the last Greenseer." Bloodraven answered.

"The trees will teach you" said Leaf, who had appeared accompanied by the rest of the singers. She had a brushwood bowl in her hands, carved with a dozen faces, like those worn by heart trees.

Inside was a thick, heavy white paste with dark red veins running through it. "You must eat this." Leaf said dryly as she handed Bran a wooden spoon. The boy looked at the bowl uncertainly. "What is it?"

"A Weirwood Tree Seed Paste."

Something about its appearance made Bran feel ill. The red veins were just brushwood sap, he supposed, but in the torchlight it looked remarkably like blood. He dipped the spoon into the paste, but then hesitated. "Will this make me a Greenseer?"

"No. Your blood makes you so," Lord Brynden said. "This paste will simply help you awaken your gifts and bond with the trees more quickly, because we hardly have time" Before the doubt that would be reflected in his face as Bran could not decide to ingest the lumpy paste, Bloodraven ominously announced

"You will have a thousand eyes, you will wear a hundred skins, you will possess profound wisdom like the roots of ancient trees. In the last Greenseer you will become. Eat the paste and go out to meet your destiny, Brandon Stark." the voice seemed to resonate within Bran, as he barely noticed any movement in Lord Brynden's mouth.

Finally, Bran ate. The paste had a bitter taste, although not as bitter as acorn paste. The first scoop was the hardest to get down. He almost vomited everything within his body, and had to make titanic efforts to contain the retching it was causing. The second spoon tasted better. And by the third time, the taste was almost sweet.

Why had he thought it was bitter at first? The paste tasted like honey, freshly fallen snow, pepper and cinnamon, and the last kiss his mother gave him before he really saw who his real mother was. Before losing his innocence. Inadvertently, the empty bowl slipped from Bran's fingers and hit the cavern floor.

"I don't feel anything different. What happens now?" He said, strangely absent from everything. Leaf touched his hand. "The trees will teach you. The trees always remember."

The girl like being, raised her other hand and the other singers began to move through the cavern, extinguishing the torches one by one. The darkness thickened and crawled towards them.

"Close your eyes." Bloodraven said, almost commanding. "Put your hands on the roots of the tree. Feel them, follow them across the land, to the trees around the hill where your cousin and uncle are, and tell me what you see."

Brandon put his hands on the white roots, and suddenly he felt transported. He was no longer in the cavern, nor north of the wall. He was everywhere and nowhere, and he felt as if he was falling down an infinite abyss.

But really, he was not falling, it were the images that passed in front of him at breakneck speed, which gave him the feeling of infinite fall. These images were almost unrecognizable, being Bran only able to distinguish some elements of what appeared before him.

Suddenly, the feeling of falling disappeared, and an image settled in front of him. He was in front of the Wall, but when it had not yet been completed. Men, giants, and animals all worked together to build the enormous wall of Ice and Magic that could now be seen in it foundations, and where just four days ago, Bran had been.

In the foreground, near Bran, a man with some similarities to his father, accompanied by one of the singers of the earth, was saying goodbye to someone, that if he had to bet, Bran would bet all of his belongings that it was his cousin Aegon.

"The First Valyrian and Brandon the Builder" intoned a female voice melodiously, from which Bran had no idea where it came from. The voice was sweet and warm, but it exuded magic in each of the syllables she spoke.

"Even if you don't see her, my sister sees us. You will meet her soon, and like me, she will be relieved by her substitute." said Bloodraven gravely, who had suddenly materialized beside Bran.

But when it materialized, his appearance had nothing to do with that of the decrepit, decomposing body that was imprisoned in its throne of branches. No, this was Bloodraven as it had been a hundred years ago.

"Don't be surprised by my appearance. If you could see yourself, you would see how far your image is from that of the boy who is now in the cave." before really processing what he was saying to Bran, Lord Brynden continued speaking .

"What we are contemplating is the first pact of Ice and Fire, long forgotten and only brought back during the Dance of Dragons, albeit for reasons and purposes quite different from this first pact." Bloodraven's voice boomed, and for a moment it seemed as if Brandon the Builder and Azor Ahai were staring directly into Bran's eyes.

When Bran tried to interact with the two of them, the image in front of him disappeared completely, giving way to a circle of stones, in the center of which rose the largest Weirwood Tree Bran had ever seen, to the point that the one in the cave of Bloodraven seemed small next to it.

Around the gigantic Weirwood, singers of the earth danced, singing a sad and ominous melody in a language Bran was unable to understand.

"It is the ancient language, the language of the singers and before the conquest of Aegon, the language of the first men, but that is not the important point now, Brandon Stark. Look closely at the stones."

By listening to his newfound mentor, Bran was able to observe how around the gigantic tree were thirteen stones. In each of them, gagged and bound, were the bodies of twelve men and one woman. The silver-haired, pale-skinned woman must surely be the most beautiful woman Bran had ever seen.

"She is the first of us." said with great sorrow the feminine voice of the magical woman that Bran was now convinced, must be Shiera Seastar.

"What you are seeing is the creation of the second Others. They are a product of the necromancy and magic of the singers of the earth. The first were created to defend themselves from the invasion of the first men, but there came a time when their creations escaped their control, so they had to join the first men and the first Valyrian to defeat them..."without letting Lord Brynden conclude, Brand asked.

"So if they were defeated, why are they coming back now?" Bran's tone inquisitive and showing certain bewilderment, as he was unable to understand how a defeated enemy could reappear more than eight thousand years later.

"It is the price of a pyrrhic victory; here you are seeing it. The victors had to sacrifice one of their closest family members, to take the place of those they had eliminated. In this way, the balance of the Music would be maintained, and the singers of the earth would make sure that in case of an attack against them, the end of living beings on the world would be signed. After this, the pact of the Island of the Faces in the God's Eye was signed. Remember what is the motivation behind the Others, Brandon Stark, to end all existing life, and at nothing they will stop, because they understand that the pact between the singers and the first men was violated, first by the Andals and then specially, by house Targaryen." Was Bloodraven's reverberating reply.

Before Bran could question Lord Brynden, or delve into the details of the scene before him, he suddenly felt as if everything in front of him was being moved.

When the movement of images ceased, he found himself in a large and elegantly ornamented dark and damp room, in what he would calculate would be the hour of the wolf. In the background was the incessant sound of waves crashing against the shore, and the smell of salt and sulfur permeated Bran's sense of smell.

"Where we are?" Bran asked, totally unable to locate where they were.

"In the rooms of Aegon the Conqueror in Dragonstone; the ones of your cousin and the love of his life." Bloodraven told him, pointing with his extended right arm towards a huge bed that was attached to the north wall of the room. In it, two figures could be distinguished. Their bodies entwined in an embrace of love and affection, while they slept peacefully. One of the figures was undoubtedly his cousin, or in this case, the Conqueror. The other was a woman even more beautiful than Nissa Nissa. She was a true goddess from Old Valyria.

"This is Rhaenys Targaryen, the love of your cousin's life. Aegon's other half." Shiera Seastar's magical voice echoed warmly and sweetly from Bran's cousin's rooms at Dragonstone. As he approached the bed, Bran thought for a moment that Rhaenys had realized they were there, as she suddenly shot out of bed, in a state of frenzy and panic, while crying uncontrollably.

The color had left her and she was shivering and drenched in cold sweat, huddled in the corner of the room. As she wept in a heartbroken manner, a dragon roared in the distance and Rhaenys Targaryen's gaze was one of utter panic. She was so scared that neither her cousin Aegon first, nor later his sister-wife Visenya, who had come after the screams, knew how to calm her down.

"Creatures of Ice, with eyes blue as the sky, staring at me as a snowstorm engulfed me ..." Aegon's sister began to speak in a low, trembling, almost lifeless tone.

"What are you talking about Rhaenys?" Visenya Targaryen asked, crouching down until she was in her sister's line of sight, looking somewhat annoyed, in Bran's opinion.

"The dream ... it was real ... I could feel the cold ... the cold wind that pierced my skin like blades." the Conqueror's little sister continued between sobs, but regaining a certain calm and tranquility in her tone.

"Between me and the ice monsters there was only a hidden dragon in the shadows and the snow... he tried to save me, but at the end, one of the pale and ethereal ice monsters pierced his chest with its translucent sword. Then it looked at me and let out a moan that sounded like laughter and percussed in my ears... and... then it killed me..." Rhaenys cried uncontrollably again, again curling up against the corner of the wall and the floor.

Aegon leaned down to hug Rhaenys's shrunken body, while Visenya now looked genuinely worried. Before his cousin Aegon could realize it, Visenya pushed him aside and grabbed Rhaenys's chin, staring at her but with a certain sweetness that Bran never would have imagined the Warrior Queen could have.

"Are you saying that you have dreamed of the legend of the Darkness brought by the Others and the story of Azor Ahai in Essos? What else did you see, what do you remember, any geographical reference? Something to indicate when or how?" Visenya Targaryen asked with some warmth, but in a voice that carried more and more alarm.

The Warrior-Queen gaze began to swing between her sister and brother, to see if they understood what was happening. Aegon nodded, reassuring Rhaenys with a warm, sweet gaze Bran had never seen in his cousin.

"I think so... I only saw snow and monsters, and a wall in the distance. A huge wall of ice ." said Rhaenys as she wiped the tears from her face with the back of her left hand.

After this, the scene unfolding before him faded and Bran couldn't help but think about what his cousin Aegon had told him and if this was the night the Targaryen decided to conquer Westeros. Bloodraven, sensing the question he was about to ask, stepped forward and answered

"This is Brandon Stark. You just saw Rhaenys' dream and the real motivation behind conquering Westeros. You will soon be almost ready to take on your new role. "Lord Brynden said in an increasingly muffled voice.

"But before assuming it, you must understand that history, like life, is not always black and white...history, like life, unfolds in gray areas. Never forget it, Brandon Stark, Winged Wolf." spoke the magical and sweet voice of Shiera Seastar, which seemed to have given her a new name.

'I wonder if this is how my cousin acquired the title of Dragon Reborn and King in the Shadows'

Bran thought internally, as he tried to understand what Shiera was referring to, with her cryptic words.

Soon, the cascade of images stopped and Bran found himself in front of luxurious rooms, the walls covered with red brick and the floors black marble. House Targaryen sigil was present in every trim and ornament in the room, including the door handles and torch hooks on the walls. When Bran didn't say anything, Bloodraven took the lead.

"The Queen's rooms at the Red Keep ... Pay attention to who will enter through the door, you will surely recognize them." Lord Brynden practically challenged Bran. As he finished pronouncing the sentence, two people entered through the double ebony door.

One was a man, about twenty and five days of the name, his features and the coloring of both eyes and hair exclaimed Targaryen. He wore spectacular armor of burnished and polished steel, with the rampant sigil of House Targaryen rising from his chest. Behind him, a snowy cloak fell to the ground, dragging behind him. At his waist, the same sword that Bran had left resting on Bloodraven's cave, Dark Sister.

The emotion that overwhelmed him when Bran saw one of his heroes and role model betrayed him, because his voice came out shrill and childish. "Aemon the Dragon Knight!" Bran exclaimed.

"Indeed, that is my uncle Aemon, the father of the future Daeron second of his name." Lord Brynden said with a certain bitter aftertaste and disgust.

Bran had not processed what he had heard for a moment, but suddenly something clicked within him, when behind the Dragon Knight appeared a woman of delicate beauty, hunched over her shoulders and with a sweetness and innocence in her face that seemed to be a mask hiding a great grief "Naerys Targaryen!" Bran exclaimed again.

"That is it, Winged Wolf. I guess you don't need to see what follows to know how a child is conceived, right?" Shiera Seastar's voice said mischievously and sweetly, as Bran was plunged into the deepest of darkness.

Just the presence of Lord Brynden Rivers in front of him reassured him, but he seemed to be beginning to fade, as if he was evaporating.

"Your time has come. You already know what you need to know to start your journey. You still have a lot to learn, but only you can do it. Shiera will help you, but remember Leaf's words: trees

have memory that people don't. Trees know what is later lost or hidden. Don't forget Brandon Stark. The fate of the House of Stark and Targaryen, as well as of much of life as we know, rests on your shoulders, in the same way that it does on those of your cousin, his sister and his cousin." Bloodraven pronounced in a cryptical, sharp and ominous way, after which, Bran felt totally alone in the dream world where he was. Bloodraven had disappeared, leaving his place for a huge black raven with three eyes, circling a beam of light in the darkness.

"The time has come for you to pay in blood, there is no other solution." Shiera Seastar's voice practically hummed.

The huge black raven seemed to chime the last words of this one, in a tone that seemed mocking "there is no other solution, there is no other solution, there is no other solution."

"With blood you must pay for your commitment, and by blood you will rise higher than any of your decendents " Shiera's magical voice concluded coldly.

Suddenly Bran was no longer in the dark. On the contrary, he happened to be in a place bathed in the rays of the sun. He felt his body again, or what he believed was his body.

When he managed to adjust his vision from the darkness to a sudden flash of daylight, Bran saw that he had not returned to the cave, nor really was he in his true body. Without really knowing how or why, Bran was on top of a huge white with black specks courser.

In front of Bran stretched a rolling field, which seemed to be bathed in blood, as two gigantic armies collided in it. Seeing at the army lines in front of him the sigil of the rampant three-headed black dragon on a red background, Bran realized that he must be seeing, or experiencing, one of the different Blackfyre rebellions.

As he looked to his left, Bran observed that a young squire stood at his side, holding up the sigil of Lord Brynden Rivers, the same one he had knotted as a cloak on his back.

Taking a closer look at the battle, Bran appreciated that in the center of the battle line, where it seemed that the battle was being decided, two figures on horseback were fighting each other, while the soldiers around they stood expectantly.

One of the two combatants was undoubtedly the infamous Daemon Blackfyre, who was easily recognized by his famous armor and by wielding the sword that belonged to his cousin. The man he was fighting with was a King's Guard, who carried a Valyrian steel sword as well.

'Ser Gwen Corbray with Lady Forlorn.' he fell quickly. Now Bran knew exactly where he was and at what point in the history of Westeros he was: without knowing how or why, Bran was at the site o f Bloodraven during the battle of the Redgrass Field, and before his eyes was happen the legendary duel between Daemon and Ser Corbray.

Which meant, that soon he himself would order that the Raven's teeth release their arrows on the royal bastard who pretended to be King 'Although if what I saw of Aemon and Naerys is true, the royal line had to continue through Daemon and not Daeron.' but before Bran could process all the situation, he saw how Daemon beat Corbray, but stopped to order that the King's Guard to be attended of his wounds.

At that moment, silence and calm seemed to momentarily take over the frantic chaos that had been unleashed until a few moments ago.

There were the groans of pain from the wounded, the screams of rage and fear, but other than that, the prevailing cacophony had subsided, giving way to a muffled hum and a surreal calm between the two armies facing each other.

Unable to control his actions, Bran saw how his right arm rose and a voice, which was not his own, but Lord Brynden Rivers. At the same time, words poured through his mouth and his lips "Pull bows" uttered authoritatively, in a voice that could be heard all over the hill where he was, along with five hundred men who were under his command.

"Aim!" continued the voice over which he technically had no control. His eyes were fixed on where Daemon was with his children. Bran's right arm, which had been raised, had been directed towards his back, where a wonderful longbow of weirwood rested.

Before he knew it, he had loaded a bolt and was hitting one of Daemon Blackfyre's sons. And so, without really intervening, or being able to avoid it, he released the arrow while ordering with a booming voice. "Fire at will! For House Targaryen!" while watching a black cloud of arrows headed towards the center of the Blackfyre vanguard, where Daemon and his sons still were.

Bran watched helplessly as before the eleventh day of his name was fulfilled, an arrow released by his hand and his bow pierced Aegon Blackfyre's throat. His father Daemon, did not seem to appreciate that after the arrow thrown by Bran, there was a rain of arrows in his direction, because after giving a cry of sorrow and fury, Daemon launched himself after the fallen body of his son, receiving up to seven impacts on his body, dying on the spot. The second of his twin sons, Aemon Blackfyre, went for his father's sword, but soon a new volley of arrows brought him the same fate as his father and brother.

Although the fighters did not know it yet, Bran knew that the first Blackfyre rebellion had ended at that time. Now all that remained, was for Baelor's Breakspear forces to come for crush the rebels against the anvil Maekar had prepared.

However, in the time that Bran had devoted himself to apprehend, absorbed as well as terrified, the daunting scene before his eyes, a hard and angry voice brought him out of his reverie.

"YOU! Damn kin slayer!! You've just killed your own brother! All for the weak Daeron and gain power for yourself, when deep down you're just a fucking bastard, like me, like Daeron or the whore Shiera... Oh yeah, didn't you knew? It is seen that everything that you are not able to give her, she found it in me ... When I kill you, I will make her my personal bitch, surely that will cure her visions Hahaha!" the roar in the form of laughter came from Aegor Rivers, Bittersteel, who without Bran having noticed it, had taken possession of Blackfyre, and was on the back of his brown steed with the blade pointed at him, halfway up the hill where he stood.

Without responding to the bravado, Bran or rather Bloodraven, he didn't really knew and didn't want to know, stud his spurs and spurred Bloodraven's horse in the direction of his brother Bittersteel, drawing Dark Sister with his right hand and girdling his shield in his left, while shortening the distance between them. Bittersteel emulated him and began a frantic gallop up the hill, but discarding his shield and helmet in the process.

When both horses collided, Bran would swear that he felt every last of his bones crunch, while had the metallic taste of blood in his mouth 'I have bitten myself from the force of the impact.' thought Bran, unable to understand how he was feeling what was feeling, as his body or Bloodraven's, unleashed a powerful attack from over his right shoulder diagonally downwards, seeking Bittersteel's left side, totally unprotected by the absence of the shield.

This, as if the matter was not with him, limited himself to raising his left arm and trying to stop the descent of the sword with his vambrace. Valyrian steel proved its fame, slicing through the forged steel of armor like parchment, sinking into skin, muscle, bone, and sinew, nearly severing the arm in the process.

But Bran soon saw that it was all a ploy of Bitter Steel.

By pouring all his strength onto the sword arm, he lowered the shield too much, providing an

opening which Bloodraven's seven-times-damned bastard brother took advantage of.

In an upward arc from almost the right of his hip towards Bran's neck, Bittersteel tried to remove the head from Bran's shoulders. Without quite knowing how, he was able to move his head back at the last jiff, dodging, but not enough to prevent Blackfyre's tip from ripping out his left eye.

After that, Bran fell from his horse hitting the ground hard. But instead of feeling the pain from the fall, he felt like he was floating in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by darkness.

Suddenly, an indescribable pain, as if he had a hot iron stuck in it, began to spread throughout his body from the place where he had his left eye. Bran wanted to reach for it, but he couldn't move. All he could do was drown in such intense pain; a lash that burned through him, running from the socket of his eye to the center of his soul; to the point that Bran began to feel delirious.

Images of the entire history of Westeros and even Essos began to flash past his eyes, but he was unable to understand exactly what was seeing or what precise moment in history he was contemplating.

He did not know how much time was passing; if a second, an hour, several moons or several years. Bran saw the sun and the moon rise and set infinitely times. He saw the passage of innumerable stations. And Bran even saw his own birth.

All of this was mixed and distorted with memories of 'his life?' as Brandon Stark, as well as with

the memories of what Bran soon realized was the life of Lord Brynden Rivers, and everything he saw during it.

The infernal pain, just as it had appeared, subsided, being a kind of distant memory, at the same time that Bran was plunged into the embrace of darkness.

Not knowing how long he spent suspended in that state, he suddenly felt as if he were elevated in the black darkness,

"Brandon Stark, Winged Wolf, you are now the Three-Eyed Raven. You are the last Greenseer and the one who will fly with the dragons. From the north of the Wall to Qarth and back, your thousand eyes you will set...Soon we will see each other and claiming to come from Beyond the Shadow you will find me. Now go back to your cousin, meet my substitute and come to me." proclaimed ominously, but sweetly and warmly, the magical voice of Shiera Seastar.

Before Bran knew it, he was back in Bloodraven's cave, lying on the ground, clinging to a root of the tree where Lord Brynden Rivers stood.

When he looked at where Bloodraven should be, Bran only saw the remains of his clothes 'It's as if he had vanished, just like in my vision.' Bran thought, suddenly tempted to reach with his hand to his left eye and check if everything he had seen and felt in the visions, it was as true as Bloodraven's fading.

Before Bran could do so, he noticed the presence of two figures that were hunched over him. Turning his head to the left, trying to get up at the same time, he found himself face to face with the faces of uncle Benjen and cousin Aegon, both of whom had expressions of horror drawn on

their faces.

"Bran...are you okay?" uncle Benjen asked with a look of panic and concern etched on his face. His eyes seemed about to cry.

Aegon for his part, seemed to find no words, and was looking at Bran with face of infinite sorrow and sadness.

With the reactions of his uncle and Aegon, Bran began to fear the worst and felt that he was about to lose consciousness. The pain he felt coming from his left eye during the trance lasted for less than the blink of an eye, but long enough for him to double over in pain over the floor. Bran wanted to puke, but felt like he was totally empty within inside.

"Bran! Bran! By the old Gods Bran, answer!" uncle exclaimed, practically yelling, as he shook Bran's shoulder for a reaction from him. But Bran felt exhausted, every muscle and bone in his body ached. He was unable to move. 'I'm going to die in this damn cave.' thought Bran, and began to cry like never in his life had.

"Calm down, it's normal" exclaimed Leaf who had suddenly appeared at the side of Aegon "Brandon Stark, take a deep breath. Breathe and feel around you, feel the roots of the earth. Finish

becoming who you are now. "practically ordered the singer of the earth.

Something inside Bran felt compelled to comply with what Leaf exhorted. He started to breathe deeply and the pain and fatigue disappeared. As he concentrated and focused his mind, he realized that he could sense the presence of every animal that was in the cave.

By concentrating more, he could see through his Direwolf and he could feel warm like a summer noon 'Summer, that will be your name. Do you like it?' Bran asked his wolf, who seemed to be delighted to have a name at last, just like his brothers and sisters of litter. Bran could see through Summer's eyes, how his sister Arya and Aunt Lyanna were training in the courtyard of Castle Black.

When he stopped concentrating, Bran was back in the cave, in front of his cousin Aegon who had the face of feeling responsible for everything that was happening to Bran, uncle with his eyes full of tears and Leaf, who had what could be described like a sad smile.

"I'm fine Uncle Benjen. Aegon, it's not your fault. One way or another, I would have come to this cave to awake my power, and for that, I would always have had to pay in blood. Better one-eyed than cripple, or one-handed. Besides, I have the feeling that it will help me with my archery skills." Bran said with a relaxed voice and total normality, trying to make less of the fact that he had lost his left eye and that he had just come out of a trance that he himself would not be able to explain.

Before Bran knew it, his cousin and uncle were hugging him so tightly that he could hardly breathe, and so Bran let them know so they would stop.

"Easy, I'm here, I'm fine, seriously. I have many things to tell you and some to show you. How many hours has it been since you left, Aegon?"Bran reassure them.

His cousin and uncle looked at each other with surprised and bewildered faces. Aegon with eyes that were tender and warm, but which contained concern, crouched down to squat in front of Bran, who was now sitting cross-legged and leaning on a root of the white tree.

Taking a closer look at his cousin, Bran saw that he was wearing his full Valyrian Steel breast and back plate and chain mail, greaves, surcoat and even the ruffle on his neck. 'What a squire I am, my

knight had to put on his armor alone. If this is how I am going to help him ... ' Aegon cut him off his musings, with trembling voice, which cleared up as he spoke, but showed concern and urgency

"Bran... almost five days have passed since I left you here...Meanwhile the army of the death was heading towards here and they almost reached us...We have to leave before it's too late...if you hadn't woken up now, I don't know what we could have done. Until a while ago, we have come to think that you were dead, when suddenly a flame has come out of your left eye and it has... melted it... Sorry Bran, I should have known that a kinslayer was not to be trusted..." but Bran cut him off immediately.

"It is not Lord Brynden's fault. It was my fate. I freely agreed to pay a price in blood in order to assume my destiny, just like you Aegon. We all have a role to play in the wars that are coming. And you Aegon, better than anyone, must accept that this entail sacrifices." Bran's voice was firm and hard as it had never been before.

Bran knew what his role should be, and he planned to carry it out. His cousin Aegon seemed surprised for a moment by Bran's answer, then put on a face of understanding and acceptance. Aegon nodded and stood up, holding out his hand to lift him. Bran took hold of the hand offered by his cousin, standing up.

At first Bran's legs felt limp, but he soon realized that he had not eaten for almost five days.

Uncle Benjen seemed like he wanted to say one thing, but Leaf interrupted any other possible conversation. With a tone that seemed broken and pitiful, she spoke words that Bran never thought he would hear outside of Old Nan's stories.

"Magic calls magic... The Others and the Army of Death are here" the words made all the hair on Bran's body stand on end.

His uncle's reaction was one of utter disbelief and Aegon's was tense and on guard, rushing toward the opening that led to the outside of the cave. Without being able to object a word, or really do anything else, uncle, and he after catching Dark Sister, headed in the same direction, accompanied by Leaf.

When they got outside they found Aegon and the half-hand with their swords drawn and on guard, in the middle of a scene out of the worst of nightmares.

Around the clearing, among the lush groves, with an unnatural glow, tens of thousands of blue dots stared at them. 'They are eyes! They are the reanimated corpses of the Army of Others ' the scene before him terrified him to an extent that even Red Grass Field hadn't.

All his senses told him to run back into the cave and hide. The top of the hill and the position where the four of them and Leaf stood seemed to be the center of a twister hole of snow, ice, and frozen air that burned Bran's lungs every time he breathed. Only the fire from the flames of Balerion illuminated the white darkness that was taking over the clearing and the surrounding forest

Balerion was practically perched on the Weirwood Tree, expelling a circle of black fire from its massive jaws around them and the cleft of the cave. In the process the humongous dragon incinerated row upon row of the Others' wights, but for every hundred it seemed to burn to ashes, a thousand seemed to take their place amid the scorched remains of trees and the rivers of mud and melting snow produced by the legendary dark dragon's flames.

"In these conditions we will not be able to fly all four of us on Balerion. If Bran and I are able to

fly away from here, we would be lucky." Aegon said bitterly, addressing uncle Benjen and Qhorin the half-hand.

The two men looked between each other with some nervousness and concern, although there was determination on their face. 'Of course staying here is to sign death. Or what is a worse fate, ending up in the ranks of the Others.' Bran lamented when he thought of the fate that awaited his uncle or to the half-hand

"Calm, there is another exit through the cave. It is a deep and winding path, but it can take you close to the Fist of the First Men. The Others won't go after you two. You are insignificant in the general scheme of the Music... But you two..."Leaf said, looking at him and his cousin Aegon, who happened to be by Bran's side, facing the opening that served as the entrance to the cave.

"As long as you are under the range of their magic, they will sense you, they will follow you, and their goal will be to kill you. You two are the beings with the most magic that exist after us, the ones that are left of the singers, the green men and a handful of other people, but unlike you, none pose a real individual threat to them."

"Only your might combined, could come up with a draw, as did the Builder and the Valyrian who came to help on the first Long Night. However, in Essos there are more of your Dragon brethren, and you have something that more than eight thousand years ago they did not have, dragons. Flee now while you can. Get ready. Gather magic of your blood around you. When you return ... Either you will triumph, ending forever with the threat of the Others and the world as it is conceived today ... Or a second long night, this eternal one, will take over all world."

"Flee, prepare and come back. It is the mission that one of the last singers of the earth entrust you, to save the world of our own creation." concluded Leaf in solemn and sad voice, to then go inside the cave where she was waiting for uncle and for the half-hand.

The snow and ice storm began to roar even louder, putting out even some flames of the Black Dread. Seeing that they were escaping now, or they would not, uncle hurried to say goodbye to them, approaching Aegon first.

"Here, take these scrolls." said uncle with a serious voice, as he put his hand to his chest and extracted some rolled scrolls from among his layers of fur, chain mail and leather armor.

When Aegon grabbed them, his uncle closed both of his hands over his cousin's, and looked at Aegon with a mixture of pity and pride, putting on a totally relaxed face.

"I know that you will be the best King this damned continent has ever had and I know that you will defeat the Others. If anyone can, it's you, Aegon. Take care of your mother how I couldn't and your cousin Arya. When I go back to the wall, I will go to Winterfell to speak to your Uncle Ned and tell him what we saw today. These scrolls are to advance the task, not because I think that we will not return. One is for Jeor Mormont, the other for your Uncle Ned. In them I talk about the plans for the Wall and the North what you have done this days, while affirming the existence of what we have before us. Mormont may not believe you, so maybe you should threaten him a bit. Still, Qhorin has also signed the scroll, eliminating that only your family is the witness, but still... "his uncle snorted, while shaking his head

"With your uncle there will be fewer problems. It is with the North that he will have them. I hope I can help Ned as you have asked me...although I don't know if I'll be able to." uncle finished with a resigned tone, to give Aegon a manly hug, who returned it with the same affection, and with an expression like satisfaction.

After heading towards him, Bran saw how the half-hand and Aegon gave each other a strong handshake and wished each other good fortune, so that later the ranger was lost through the opening that gave access to the cave.

"Bran, say hi to your Uncle Rhaegar for me. Take care of your cousin, your sister and your aunt. Always obey Aegon, except when he is a melancholic pessimist. In those moments put him on track for me. The same I say respect to his father, since in that regard, they are one for which. You must be proud to be the squire of your cousin and his father. In a thousand years songs will be sung about you, Bran." said uncle in the warmest and most familiar voice he could articulate in a situation like the one they were experiencing. After that he bent down and gave Bran a kiss on the forehead and a hug, then turned on himself and lined the gap without looking back.

When Bran turned to look at his cousin Aegon, he was next to Balerion who had descended heavily from the top of the hill to where they were. Aegon was staring at a point in the base of the hill, right there where almost five days before they had landed with Balerion.

Thirteen pale and ethereal figures seemed to glide through the tide of resurrected puppets that they considered soldiers. Aegon was staring at them. They were tall and gaunt, but hard as old bones, with flesh as pale as milk. Their armor seemed to change color as they moved; at one moment it was white as freshly fallen snow, at another as black as shadow, everywhere speckled with the deep greenish gray of the trees. The Others glided across the surface like moonlight on water with each step they took. In their hands they held long swords unlike any Bran had ever seen. No human metal had entered that sword's forge. They seemed alive, pale in color like the reflection of the full moon, practically translucent, being a fragment of glass so thin that it seemed to almost disappear when it was seen on end. There it possessed a faint blue glow, a phantom light playing around its edges, and somehow Bran knew it was sharper than any sword in the world.

The wind stopped howling and the cold grew, making his breath freeze as Bran breathed, causing him a certain sensation of suffocation. Albeit, it seemed that for his cousin there was nothing else in the world but the ethereal ice beings and himself. Blackfyre appeared totally black, taking on the color of the sky above them.

The only glimpses of light came from the blue eyes of the Others and their wights, as well as Balerion's fading flames. Turning his head towards him, but with his body fixed in the direction of the Others, with a determined look and a firm voice, his cousin Aegon addressed Bran

"If I kill them, it's all over now Bran, no matter what happens to me." proclaimed Aegon with determination and a barely contained rage in his body, as he began to head towards the pale creatures of death.

Aegon's eyes shined and sparkled, making them look like two purple amethysts at times, and at other times like wells of black ink crossed by raging silver streaks. His cousin seemed taller and exuded a power unlike any other person in his life, not even in his visions in Bloodraven's cave, Bran had seen.

No doubt his cousin was determined to try to end the threat of the Others here and now. The curtains of fire that Balerion expelled from time to time, lifted up to the earth itself, leaving in its wake rivers of melted snow, mud and ashes of what moments before had been the rows of wights puppets of the Others .

The destructive power of the Black Dread, the determined and firm attitude of his cousin Aegon, who could be one of the three best fighters on Planetos, would have convinced anyone that victory over Darkness could be achieved in the first clash of the Great War.

But Bran was not just anybody now, no. Bran was now the last Greenseer, he was the new Three- Eyed Raven and Bloodraven's successor. Suddenly he remembered what his cousin's nickname was, and what Rhaenys had seen in her dream. Bran knew how it would end if Aegon decided to confront the Others now, and so he prepared to let him know, in almost pleading voice.

"This is not the moment. Like me, you know what moment this is. It is Rhaenys's dream, Aegon. You were there, holding her to comfort her... And you know how it ends... You are the Dragon in the shadows that was trying to save her! Trust me, I beg you!" Bran's words seemed to stop his cousin's advance in the instant, who stopped advancing towards the pale figures.

Seeing that it had had an effect, Bran continued trying to convince Aegon of the sterility of fighting alone against the entire Army of Death and their masters.

"If you go, they will kill you and we will have lost before we even start the war! You both know it! Please Aegon, do it for your mother, for your father, for Arya, for your uncles, for us you cry out as your brothers! Do it for what you want most, but I implore you, do not go ahead with your suicidal idea of ending them now, because you will only find death!" Bran finished his declamation, and inadvertently was crying from his right eye, while a warm and thick liquid was dripping from the empty left eye socket, which was freezing down his left cheekbone 'Blood, I'm crying blood'

Despite the shock of what was happening to him, Bran knew that now more than ever, he had to stop his cousin Aegon from doing something stupid, so he asked him to do so by resorting to something he knew would make him back down yes or yes.

"Rhaenys is alive!" Although Bran knew that he must have kept the information, he also knew that if there was anyone who could stop Aegon from doing what he intended, it was the love of his life. His cousin's reaction was not long in coming, because not only did he stop completely, but he turned towards him with his whole body, turning his back to the Others. His gaze showed a great internal conflict, but a new light appeared in it 'Hope. Knowing that Rhaenys is alive has given Aegon hope.' thought Bran satisfied with his commission to protect the Targaryen, including from themselves.

"I know you are not lying to me and I am not going to ask you to explain the whole story to me now. For now I only ask that this stay between you and me until I decide when to announce it to my father and mother." Aegon's voice implied that there was no possible discussion on the topic, but at least Bran was sure he had achieved his main objective.

His cousin took one last look at the terrible ice spawns, causing his body to tremble, although Bran couldn't tell if it was fear, or fury for not having been able to face the thirteen ghosts in front of them "You! you win!" Aegon said with a resigned tone, barely opening his mouth a little to pronounce it, as he retraced his steps towards where Bran was standing.

There was a fury in Aegon's gaze that made Bran practically tremble "Let's go, get on Balerion, quick." The dragon seemed to understand his master perfectly, for in less than a blink it was with its neck and back down, its left wing extended for quicker access.

When Bran finished climbing on the dragon's back, Bran looked over at his cousin and what he saw horrified him.

Without Aegon noticing, as he was facing away from them, heading towards the Black Dread, one of the Others had turned his sword into a spear, which pointed towards his cousin's back. Trying to avoid what seemed inevitable, Bran screeched "Aegon, watch out! Behind you!"

The warning caused his cousin to turn suddenly, at the same moment that the Other threw its spear

at him. The impact in the chest sent his cousin flying several meters up the hill, lying on his back near to Balerion.. The gigantic dragon went practically bersek, rising from the position it was in and began to send out a torrent of dark fire in all directions.

Bran had to cover his face with his hands, because despite the cold prevailing, the black flames of the dragon seemed to be fires coming from the very bowels of the earth. Subject as he was to the saddle chains, Bran barely kept himself on the dragon's back, completely losing sight of his cousin. The feeling of failure in his mission and in his destiny began to flood him 'I swore that I would defend house Targaryen and because of me, by distracting him I have caused the Dragon Reborn to die ... We are doomed...This will also be my end' thought desperately before his fate.

But before he could follow his thoughts, Bran felt the presence of thousands of crows in the air and among the trees. Without quite knowing how, he now saw through all of them. Now he was all those ravens, dominating their minds and actions. So he decided to send them all against the Others, who seemed almost unfazed by the flames of Balerion 'I do not know what will be able to make crows where the flames of the Black Dread seems to do nothing, but at least I buy time to see how my cousin is.'

When Bran finally managed to disengage from his grip on the dragon's mount, he slid quickly down the left side of the dragon, falling a few feet from his cousin. Aegon was lying motionless on the ground, face up, but his armor was intact, although perhaps something dented above the chest and the collar that was forged steel had disappeared, leaving in its place a kind of ice collar. His cousin's chest rose and fell as a result of his breathing 'Well, he's alive. I just have to take him and mount Aegon on Balerion, and make it get us out of here somehow...'

"Cof cough cough" suddenly Aegon coughed up blood "Bran... cough cough... Bran... is that you? Am I...Are we still alive?" Aegon asked in a barely understandable voice.

With all the strength and power Bran had in his legs from climb through Winterfell walls, he ran to Aegon. Before him he knelt, helping him up.

"Yes Aegon. I don't know how, but you are whole... I have seen it impact... it should have pierced you from side to side of the chest..." Bran told his cousin with a totally incredulous voice at what his eyes had just contemplated.

Meanwhile, Aegon seemed to have regained his senses, reaching for Blackfyre lying on the ground. Using it as a cane and with Bran's help, his cousin managed to get fully to his feet, and squeezed him hard on the shoulder where was leaning.

"Thanks Bran. If you did not get to warn me, It would have hit in the back, but not in the backplate, if not in the gap between it and the gorget ... I would be dead ... which by the way, I do not understand why the forged steel has been discarded like melted snow, but Valyrian steel does not ... although I think this is not the time for these musings. Quick get on Balerion and hook yourself to the chain. We're going to get out of here as quickly as possible, before those crows stop distracting them and took aim at something bigger than my back." Aegon said, breathing heavily as he directed his gaze towards the gigantic dragon.

Bran, who did not know if to tell him yet that the crows were his action, preferred to be quiet and listen to Aegon, quickly climbing on the dragon, being followed by his cousin who had sheathed his sword in the sheath of his back.

When Aegon was pinned behind him, he grabbed Bran with all his might against his chest and said "Hold tight to Balerion's spikes and bones, rather than the chains. The snowstorm and Balerion's

state of mind are going to make this a bumpy trip ... "and then in his mother tongue order the mythical dragon to get them out of there" Sōvegon eglie Balerion! Adere ![2]"