Orston did not hope to wake up. But he did. It felt odd.
His eyes weren't fully open, but it was awfully dark and cramped. Did someone bury me in the forest or what?
But when he opened his eyes, suddenly the cramped space was filled with blood-red light. Orston blinked, and each time the light vanished and reappeared. Only after the fourth time did he realize his eyes were the source of the red light. Without him, looking, everything was pitch dark.
Orston felt as if thousands of hands were gripping his body all over, hindering even the slightest movement. With an effort, he managed to look down and found nothing but abyssal darkness shaped like a man. Only his chest and the part above were visible and connected to the darkness below.
He only had one arm; the other was swallowed by darkness as well. Even his eye-lights could not pierce through it.
The cramped space he was stuck in was milky white and patterned in a very wood-like finish. A hollow pillar of sorts. Orston could see neither high above nor low below. Only the front.
He was left alone in the suffocating silence for a long time. With nothing else to do, Orston continued his tiring efforts to move himself and finally managed to touch the milky white wooden surface of the pillar before his face.
As if come alive, the wood reacted to his touch, revealing strange engravings that carved themselves into the white surface on their own.
°°°
Orston Snow
❤ x 1
꩜꩜꩜꩜ (1❤)
꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜ (10❤)
꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜ (50❤)
°°°
What the hell are these? Am I dead or not? Alas, the answer was not so simple. Staring mindlessly at the weird symbols and his bastard name, he concluded his life on Planetos was not over yet.
He could touch the first heart symbol; it felt warm. But the other symbols besides the spirals looked faded and felt wooden, the same as the white, uneven surface they were carved on. After trying everything he could with the little movement of his one hand, Orston finally tried to push the heart, and to his shock, it moved.
He could not separate it from the wood or push it deep, but he could drag it around anyway he wanted. Since it had a number, he tried to overlap it with the other symbols with numbers. When he placed it above the last two lines of symbols, the 10 became 9, and the 50 became 49. The black ❤ x 1 glowed blood red, a wave of energy rippling outward from its very center.
Interesting.
When Orston placed it on the first line that only had one in the bracket, the rippling of energy happened again. The one had changed to Unlock inside the bracket.
Deciding to unlock whatever this was, he tapped the red heart with rippling energy in an attempt to confirm his choice. The one beside the heart disappeared, and the circular, cryptic symbols changed into a solid, readable word.
RAGE 1 (5)
What the hell did I do? What happened? Orston had no answer, but fortunately or unfortunately, his eyes started getting heavy, and everything blacked out so quickly he was half sure it was all a weird dream. And he probably won't remember anything when he wakes up.
Orston came to his senses again, his real senses, not the creepy dream ones. It barely felt like seconds, but his body was well rested. That was the only good thing about his body, though; he felt pangs of pain originating from multiple places. The worst of which was the back of his abdomen, where the pedo-creep had injured him with a knife.
Ignoring his pain, Orston observed his surroundings. He was wrapped in fur, bandaged, and in a room with stone walls. The window was open, but the room was at some height; from his view, he could only see a bit of stone wall, blue sky, and distant green land.
He felt weak. And decided to remain lying down instead of sating his curiosity by peering down the window.
A castle, most likely, Orston figured. Someone must have arrived near the Wolfswood before he bled out. One of the groups of patrolling guards, probably. He was either in Torrhen's square, Cerwyn, or Winterfell.
Soon, the answer revealed itself. A serving girl holding a wooden bucket and wet towels walked into the room while humming. When their eyes met, she made a weird noise in surprise. Then composed herself, smiled a little, and left the room.
She returned after a few minutes with a small man in grey robes who stepped inside, the chain at his neck giving a faint clink. Thin grey hair, lined face, sharp but calm eyes. He didn't look dangerous—just watchful. The man walked over to the bed and looked at Orston, touching his forehead.
"How are you feeling?" The maester asked.
"Alive," he replied.
The maester smiled, "That you are. Probably hungry as well, you slept for five days."
Orston's eyes widened. He almost panicked, but instead moved his hands around his clothes and frantically searched his surroundings.
"What you are looking for is with Lord Stark." The maester said in a calm tone, observing his expressions.
Lord Stark. So he was in Winterfell. And they took his things. Eddard knows about his ring! He didn't plan on revealing it so soon. Things are getting out of his hands. That damned pedo had ruined his plan!
"He will visit you soon. What is your name?" Maester Luwin asked, taking a seat. His arms huddled inside the robe.
What will come of this? Will he tell Robert? If words get to Cersie.. well, he shouldn't lose focus. There was still time. He had options.
The wind coming from the window was cold. Orston had slept in nights much colder, though, on his journey, and barely noticed it now. The room was much warmer than he was used to. He heard the old man but didn't know where to start. Orston decided to use the half-truth.
"Orston," He replied.
"Might name." The older man smiled, trying to put him at ease. Tall as he was, Orston was still a kid. "Can you tell me what happened?" Maester added.