Thorn of Winterfell

Magic of the Old Gods

The air was thick with fog; the godswood seemed darker than usual under the oppressive gloom. Syana could feel her hair starting to frizz from the moisture. Despite the chill in the air she felt warm under the canopy of trees. She could almost forget the man beside her as she walked along the forest floor plush with layers of fallen leaves, a carpet of years gone by. She felt uneasy, a coiled tension in her muscles. She felt watched as if she were on display for the gods. It was strangely different from the feeling she experienced in her own godswood in Winterfell, more demanding. She had not taken her eyes off of the heart tree since she had spotted it, its gnarled and twisted face was weeping. The viscous sap flowed in grotesque pulsating waves that caused the liquid to gush at times. The creek in front of it was semi solid from the amount of sap that poured into it, clogging the stream and turning it into a sticky death trap. It should've alarmed her, sent off warning bells in her mind; this was not normal tree behavior. But she only crouched down low, closely examining the water. She was fascinated by the strange mixture.
Benjicot's hand on her shoulder brought her attention away from the red stream as she stood, looking up at him. He did not speak, only motioned for her to follow. Curious, she did. She watched him weave a path across the creek as if he could do it in his sleep. He found footholds she couldn't see until he stepped on them. She followed in his footsteps walking carefully on the slick surface of rocks sticking out of the water. As fascinated by the sap as she was, she did not relish the thought of falling into it. Luckily, it did not take them long to cross and then they were standing in front of it. A shiver of fear ran down her spine as she gazed into the bloody eyes of the weirwood. She knew it was staring back at her, watching as she walked along its winding and visible roots. Without meaning to, she had come to stand right next to the leaking face.

"You saw our heart tree." A whisper came from behind her and she turned her attention towards his low voice and haunted expression. "It's dead, poisoned years ago. It's dead but the gods are not."

His eyes rolled back in his head leaving only the whites visible. As she stood shocked still, she became aware of them. Hundreds of black winged birds sitting in the branches of the white tree, crows. A hundred beady eyes stared down at her, heads cocked as if to ask "Are you watching? Have you seen?" A caw alerted her to the bird before it swooped down to land on her shoulder. It was uncanny, so eerily graceful. The fluidity was the least of her concerns when it opened its mouth and said, "See! See! You! See! You!" She jumped backwards at the words, knocking into Benjicot. She'd unknowingly backed towards him as she'd gazed up at the hundreds of birds watching her. When his hands wrapped around her arms she screamed, finally freaked out at last.

"Shhh! Listen! It's okay."

His reassurances fell flat as she thrashed in his hold, suddenly terrified of the shadows encompassing them.

"Listen, damn it! I'm trying to- I'm a skin changer!" He blurted out at last and Syana stopped struggling. His hands fell away from her arms as she turned to face him.
"Skin changer?"

"It means-"

"I know what it means." She snapped with more bite than she'd meant to, still scared. "I'm a Stark."

Her mother had told her the tale of the War of the Wolves more times than she could count. A legend of old, when the kings of winter still ruled. Syana knew all about what happens to a man who lives too long inside of a beast. One could forget the feel of the ground beneath their feet, forget the feel of their mothers touch, or even forget their own face. She wondered how much Benjicot had already forgotten.

"Then you know how valuable this can be for us, for the war. I saw how to cross over here in a dream. The heart tree here isn't dead, it speaks to me."

She swallowed thickly at his words, her heart beating faster in her chest. "This place is cursed. You can't trust anything you see here. Besides, you of all people should know how this will be viewed. People don't trust what they can't understand, and they don't understand the old ways. They'll say all kinds of horrible things about you!"