Winter Has Fallen (Game of Thrones)

Evanithen

        Evanithen was lost. It was dark. So dark. There wasn't so much as a single strand of light. He struggled around the darkness, arms held out in front of him, calling for Raven, his guardsmen, anybody. There was no answer, never an answer. 

        He didn't know how long he had been in the dark. His eyes should have adjusted by now, but it was still pure black. Evanithen tried to think about how he had ended up in the darkness. He knew that he had laid down to sleep, and then what? He couldn't remember anything else, until he found himself inside this endless space of black.

        Then, it changed. He saw only a thin piece of it at first, but it soon became big enough for Evanithen to make out what it was. A tornado. Though he had never seen a tornado before, he could tell what it was from his wet nurse's stories. A white mass of destructive winds was rushing at full speed towards him. He could already feel his hair getting lightly blown back, but a couple more seconds, and it wouldn't be blowing back lightly anymore. He tried to move his feet again, but they stayed glued to the ground. If the was any ground. Of course there's ground, he told himself. Otherwise I'd be falling. Then again, who said that he wasn't falling? 

        "Help me!" Evanithen screamed at the top of his lungs. The tornado was coming closer and Evanithen still had no means of escaping. The white winds completely blocked his vision now. The winds were really ripping at him now, his hair and clothes and skin blown backwards. The tornado was here. Evanithen closed his eyes, preparing for the worst.

        Nothing happened. Wher he opened his eyes again, he was standing in a huge open meadow with small pieces of forest here and there.The sun was back up. The sky cricled with birds of all kinds: crows, eagles, mockingbirds, robins. Evanithen heaved a sigh of relief. 

        Then he realized that his legs were still stuck to the ground. He did everything he could to unfasten his feet from the soil, but it was no use. It was like someone had sewn them there. The sun was too hot, and Evanithen had started to sweat profusely. 

        It seemed like forever before he heard the first wolf howl. Raven, Evanithen immediately thought. But no, he knew that it was not Raven. Raven wasn't with him. Or else he would've answered all his calls for help in the deep black hall. 

        Then, he heard a second wolf howl in harmony to the first, the a third, fourth, fifth, until the night was full of the wolves' howls. Night? Evanithen tought incredulously. It was nighttime alright, the moon bright and shiny, the stars twinkling, the sky a deep purple. Yet it had been day only a couple of seconds ago. What was wrong here?

        Evanithen knew something was wrong. Of course, any man with common sense would know something was wrong. Waking up in a dark, endless place with no idea of how you got there is just the beginning of the definition wrong. But include a big swirling tornado that disappears into a bright sunny meadow, and when the sunny meadow changes to night in a matter of seconds, you know something is wrong.

        Evanithen tried to control his hitched breathing. He could not panic, no, not now. Now, he needed to think of a way to get out of this place. He concentrated on breathing in, out, in, out. Then, using all his mental and physical willpower, he lifted his right foot off the soil.

        His foot came off, and Evanithen almost wanted to sing with the wolves in joy. He was free to go! But after sprinting about twenty yards, he realized that he did not know where he was going. He was completely, utterly lost.

        Then the wolves came. They came out slowly, one by one, out of the small peices of forest in the gigantic meadow. Evanithen tried to run again, but for some reason his feet had been glued down again. He wanted to stomp his foot with frustration, but couldn't, due to the fact that his feet were attached to the soil. 

        The wolves surrounded him, but they weren't normal wolves. Evanithen could sense something familiar about them. And then it hit him. Their eyes. Like how Oat noticed the eyes of the beheaded men, Evanithen saw that they bore the eyes of his family members. Trinton's bright, innocent ones, Oat's quirk, mischievous ones, Anthia's daring, bold ones, Stejen's lordly, brave ones, and Mikkala's loving, kind ones.

        Not a second after Evanithen saw the eye resemblence did the wolves attack. It was nothing but a sharp, quick pain in the back of his neck, a blinding flash of pale blue light, and everything went black again. Not a moment later, Evanithen opened his eyes, his skin wet with slick sweat.

        Only after Evanithen woke from the dream did he realize that Dianik's eyes were not there.