SIXTEEN

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"Wait

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"Wait." Ahra hadn't bothered to stop as she detailed what they were headed into and Hermione didn't have the strength to continue. Her mind, like her body, were beginning to wither. "Who is this Night King?"

Ahra sighed stopping only after walking a good distance away as Hermione used the trunk of a tree to support her failing limbs. Her face, for the first time, had hardened by the words escaping her lips. "The Night King is a creation of my people."

"If he's your creation, why can't you just undo it?" Hermione questioned. "Turn him back into whatever he was before."

"It's not that simple," she sighed as Hermione's legs gave out. The sun was up, but there was no warmth. The chill seemed to be emanating from Hermione's very bones. Pulsating and draining her muscles. Robb would be awake by now. Was he frantic? Wondering where she had gone to? Every step she took, Hermione wanted to turn back. "Thousands of years ago, we created the Night King and his army to protect us from man. You have have to understand your kind had cross the narrow sea and began cutting down our sacred trees. My people were dying by the thousands." Ahra gave in and sat beside Hermione, her body just a freezing. "But we couldn't control the Night King. Humans are tricky beings to perform magic on for they have so much will of their own. The only thing we could do was trap him behind the Wall, but now his army has grown. He's coming."

"What do you mean?"

"There's a prophecy which foretold of a child born on the first snowfall in Camelot in five centuries. That was you. Our Matka sent us to breathe her life into you. That is reason you can do everything you've been able to do. Create life and take it away, it's because that magic—our magic—runs through your veins."

Hermione exhaled, birds chirped around her and the spring flowers sways in the occasional breeze as she shivered. "Then why can't I use it." She had tried to conjure a flame to fight the internal tundra, but it had been no use. Looking down at the tips of her fingers, she could see the blue setting in. This wasn't just her power draining.

It was her life.

The effects had also taken to Ahra. Her leaves had wilted and the forest child seemed to be fading. Her usual resemblance to spring had wilted like a passing season. "Because the Night King. He's been draining the trees of their magic to use it for his gain. We are all growing weak," Ahra wheezed her voice finally giving in to her exhaustion. "He's draining the life of our Matka."

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⏰ Last updated: Sep 24 ⏰

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