Aerys's clan no longer slept in the tower The decision had not been spoken.No vote. No discussion.One evening, they simply gathered what little they owned and descended from the summit of the keep, abandoning height for shadow, stone for silence.They settled in the old guardhouse along the inner wall.
No one questioned it.
They all understood.
Up there, sooner or later, they would cross Titos. Down here, they could breathe.The guardhouse was narrow, cold, and stripped of any illusion of comfort. Drafts slipped through cracks in the stone. The walls held the damp memory of old watchfires.
But it offered something the tower never could:
Distance.
Distance from the main corridors.
Distance from wandering eyes.
Distance from the slow rot spreading through House Celerion.
Aerys preferred it,Safety was never found in walls or elevation,It was built from silence.
From discipline, preparation.
They cooked outside the castle ,always in the northern mountains,always after sunset.
Never twice in the same place,never with visible smoke,never with light that could betray them.
Precautions layered upon each other like armor no blade could pierce.
Survival was not instinct,It was method.
That evening, they gathered beside a small lake hidden between two ridges.
The water lay still, black as polished glass, reflecting the last dying light of the sky. The air smelled of damp stone and wild grass. Somewhere in the distance, wind whispered through narrow passes.
The sheep tied near the rocks shifted softly,breathing,waiting.
The clan formed a loose circle.
Callius sat on a flat stone, sharpening a length of wood into a spear, each movement precise, unhurried. His golden hair caught the fading light, making him seem almost at peace,Rosis studied a digital slate, its dim glow reflecting in his eyes. Jinn crouched by the water, washing blood from her hands, the remains of a deer hunt staining the lake's edge.
Lea sat apart, unmoving, staring at nothing,Istlos and Pyrena argued in hushed tones over knots and rope tension .Noheas, Lanik, and Cion stood nearby—waiting.
Watching,they always watching Aerys.
HE stood at the center,the knife rested in his hand.
Too heavy not from its weight,From its purpose.
"Bring the goat."
Noheas hesitated.
Just a fraction,then obeyed, thhe animal walked calmly as it was dragged forward ,trusting.
That was the worst part.
Aerys knelt,The goat's eyes reflected the dimming sky—clear, unafraid. It leaned slightly toward him, expecting touch, food, something gentle. His hand settled on its neck.Warm,Alive,Unaware.
He did not move, not yet.
Within him, ODI stirred.
Not with power.With recognition.
And ODI's voice drifted through him—not spoken, but remembered.
All things are devoured, in time.
Aerys tightened his grip,he had always known.
Knowing was nothing,doing was everything.
He raised the knife.
A slight tremor ran through his hand ,No one saw it.
The goat bleated softly.
Then—He cut.
The blade dragged across flesh, resisting, sawing through skin and sinew,blood surged—hot, thick—spilling over his hands, running between his fingers, dark against the earth,the animal struggled weakly.
Confused,Still trusting.
Aerys did not stop,He cut until the movement ceased,until the warmth began to fade,until silence reclaimed the space.
No one spoke,They understood,This was not about food.
"You will all do the same," Aerys said.
Quiet,Absolute,He stood, wiping blood across the grass.
"No one eats unless they kill."
Lea looked up Pale.
"I… I can't." léa blurt
He did not look at her.
"Everyone kills their own animal."
Cion nodded immediately Pyrena swallowed, stepping forward,Istlos smirked.Rosis said nothing,Callius watched.
Lea shook her head.
"I can't."
Aerys dragged a sheep toward her and let the rope fall at her feet.
"Yes," he said. "You can."
She stepped back.
"I don't want to."
He held out the knife.
"Take it."
She didn't,Tears filled her eyes.
"I can't kill it."
Aerys stepped closer.
"You can."
"No."
The knife fell from her trembling hands A dull sound against stone Aerys picked it up placed it back in her grip,this time, he did not release her.
"You will."
She tried to pull away ,He held her wrist,firm.
"Listen," he said, softer now.
Her breath broke.
"I don't want to…"
He leaned close.
"When Titos comes for you," he murmured, "will you ask him not to kill you too?"
She froze,The truth struck deeper than any blade.
The sheep bleated.
Soft ,Innocent ,Tears fell.
Aerys guided her hand.
"Cut."
She shook her head.
"Cut."
Her hand trembled violently.
"Cut."
She screamed the knife drove forward the blade slipped blood burst She recoiled, horrified, but Aerys held her in place.
"Finish it."
"I can't!"
"Finish it."
Her sobs broke into something raw she forced the blade deeper the sheep collapsed ,Silence; her hands were red.She fell to her knees.Shaking.
Around them:
Istlos watched without feeling.Pyrena turned away.Noheas swallowed hard.Cion stared at the ground. Rosis clenched his jaw.Callius said nothing.
Aerys released her.
She collapsed forward into the dirt.
"Why…" she whispered. "Why would you make me do that…"
Aerys looked down at her,no anger,no pity,only certainty.
"Because next time," he said, "it won't be a sheep."
The mountains swallowed the words.Night settled.Cold.Unforgiving.
And ODI whispered once more—
Not as guidance, as truth.
Mercy, without strength…is merely a slower death.
Aerys turned away.
He cleaned the blade.
Behind him, something had changed,Not just in Lea. In all of them.
they were learning.
And Aerys had taken the first step toward becoming something none of them yet understood.