Fire and Blood

Chapter 144: The Last Stand (Aeonar)

The Riverlands - Near Harrenhal...

The relentless rain and fierce storms raged throughout the Riverlands, transforming the vibrant landscape into a desolate tableau of gray and tumultuous foreboding, heavy with clouds that seemed to churn and roil like a cauldron of despair. Close to Harrenhal, the winds howled mercilessly against Aeonar and Vaelor. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and the distant rumble of thunder, a constant reminder of nature's fury. Despite his injuries, the Swiftrunner continued trying to shield his rider from the heavy rain that fell in relentless sheets but was largely ineffective against the sheer force of the elements in his current condition. The gusts roared like a hurricane sweeping through the region, a sound that drowned out all other noise as if the heavens were waging war against the earth below. As the rain continued to pour, the tiny droplets stung like sharp, tiny needles against Aeonar's skin, each impact a reminder of his vulnerability in the face of such overwhelming power. He could feel the cold seeping into his bones, chilling him to the core, and the plummeting temperatures only exacerbated his discomfort. Aeonar trembled and shook from the biting cold, his teeth chattering as he tried to provide whatever body heat he could to Vaelor to keep his dragon warm, but there was very little he could do.

But then, Aeonar heard distinct mumbling from several yards away.

"Find him! They're around here somewhere!"

"Search the area!"

"Find them!"

"Kill them! Kill the Deceiver!"

"And his dragon, too!"

Aeonar gradually shifted his gaze to the left, straining to pinpoint the source of the sound that had caught his attention. The noise was faint yet persistent, a rhythmic thumping that seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat. Although he could perceive it, the ringing in his ears rendered the noises indistinct and distant, like echoes of a forgotten melody. Each attempt to focus only deepened his confusion, as if the air around him were thick with fog, obscuring both sight and sound. Having endured a significant blow to his head when he was violently thrown from his saddle earlier, it was evident that he was grappling with the effects of a concussion. As he lay there, the world around him swam in a haze, colors bleeding into one another and shapes shifting and warping like reflections in a disturbed pond. He blinked several times to clear his vision, but the effort only intensified the throbbing pain in his temples. His sense of balance was compromised, leaving him feeling profoundly disoriented. Each pulse felt like a drumbeat; each attempt to rise was met with a wave of nausea that threatened to pull him back down. He could feel the ground beneath him, solid yet unsteady as if it were shifting like the tides.

Come on... get up. Get up. Get up! Get. UP!

Aeonar clenched his jaw, summoning every ounce of strength to stand tall. Each breath felt like an uphill struggle as if he were raising a mountain instead of just pushing himself off the ground. He wobbled unsteadily, his legs shaking beneath him, battling to hold his ground as a wave of dizziness crashed over him. Alongside the painful throbbing in his skull was a constant ringing in his ears. But finally, Aeonar managed to regain his footing. He forced himself to survey the area around the God's Eye; however, the fierce thunderstorm made it hard to see clearly, with heavy rain striking his skin like icy needles. Just when he felt he might lose balance, a sudden flash of lightning brightened the dark sky, casting eerie shadows that flitted across the landscape. He glimpsed several shadowy figures in the distance in that fleeting, blinding instant. They stood menacingly against the stormy backdrop, their shapes partially hidden by sheets of rain. Many wore leather lamellar armor, the small metal pieces glinting dully in the sporadic flashes like diamonds. He could discern the outline of swords and spears, their lethal tips shining as they swayed in the wind. Though he couldn't determine their exact numbers, a deep instinct warned him-these figures posed a serious threat to both him and Vaelor.