Bab 9: Of Parting Ways
The sounds of laughter and joy echoed throughout the hall as the men and women feasted for the arrival of their liege lord. Wine and Ale poured to the cups, handed out by the servants of the castle.
Drinking competition ensued amongst the soldiers, battling out who can last more, the maids talking amongst each other, exchanging gossip and rumors about a particular foreigner from the Sunset Sea.
The mood of the feast were merry, especially after the results of the rebellion. Still fresh in their minds— how they achieved victory and enacted their revenge against the Dragons.
"Atlas! Atlas! Atlas!"
"Cassel! Cassel! Cassel!"
The soldiers cheered as they betted on who can last more. They have been going at it since who-knows-when, and they haven't stopped since.
"Another!" Marcellus yelled as he finished his cup, looking pale. Just as another cup was handed to him, Jory puked right beside him, and the men cheered.
"Atlas!" They shouted. Just as Jory was about to puke again, they quickly dragged him out of the hall.
"I told ya Jory, you wouldn't last against me." Marcellus boasted. "I'll get ya next time, Marcie." Jory returned, coughing. "Aye, after a thousand years!" He laughed while Jory puked again.
"Come on! Let's get yer to your quarters." Marcellus stated, putting Jory's hand over his shoulders. "Not yet! I haven't got me a woman to bed!" He resisted. "Quit babbling and come with me, I wouldn't let you bed a woman tonight, less you puke on her tits!" Marcellus's laugh echoed in the silent courtyard.
*
He walked along the quiet walls of the Flint, the breeze of the summer snow falling to his cloak. Looking out to the ocean, from here he could hear the sound of the sea, a calming presence reaching his heart.
As the stars reflected upon the waters and the moon shone in the night sky, He inhaled deeply and relaxed his mind, it reminded him of his nights with his father.
Staring up to the twilights, his eyes wandered to the brightest of them all— Clarus, the star of the greatest Atlas— Alexander.
He reflected upon his conversation earlier with The quiet wolf, although it seemed as though Ned was discouraging him, he had a point. What were his plans? How could he achieve greatness on his own? Is he worthy of his Ancestors?
On the outside he's showing strength, determination, and will. Deep within himself he knew; it was a farce— a defense so that his claims remain strong, true and fierce. His mind raced as he condured plans and schemes to achieve glory, strength, and honor— to attain greatness.
'How?' He cried out; 'Im alone, with no one to turn to and no one to rely on. Only myself.'
"It's cold out here boy." He turned, surprised. What met him was the eys of an Old Woman, centuries of wisdom in her eyes. "A surprise; one as young as you prefers to stay here in the cold embrace of the night rather than take part in the festivities." She remarked.
"I can't seem to enjoy it." The short reply was curtained with disinterest, yet filled with amusement. "No, not with the eyes of a man with troubles." She chastised.
"The heart speaks true, you need not worry with the plagues of the mind. Follow what you desire, and all will come as it is." She spoke like a seer, voice cracking, yet firm and resolute.
"I doubt it." He replied.
"Ha! Plan for everything, but don't expect anything. You'll learn along the way." She said with certainty. "It's already been decided. Claim it, or die trying."
"What do you know of me?" He asked curiously.
"Oh i see it in you, Dark hair and blue eyes, the walk of a King— an Emperor. The North Remembers young Atlas. It fades with time, but this is true; The North Remembers." She recited.
Surprise dawned on his face; "What must I do?" He asked— begging.
"I've told you enough. Now create your own star." With the cryptic words, she turned and left.
*
He walked the busy halls of the castle, servants milling about as they cleaned the remains of yesterday's festivities. He arrived at the door to the maester's chambers and knocked.
"Come in!" A voice replied from the other side of the door.
"Good day, Maester." He greeted. "Ah! My Lord, how can i be of service?" Thewise man replied.
"I'm leaving, along with Stark, but different paths. Keep me informed of the businesses of the North, no matter how small." Marcellus ordered.
"As you command, My Lord. And you ride to where?" The Maester asked. "To where the light watches the sea." He replied cryptically.
"Ah. I shall write to the archmaesters of your arrival."
"No need. I shall introduce myself to them." He replied. "Goodbye Maester, I'll call for you when the time comes." Marcellus turned and left.
*
He tied the flask onto his saddle, making sure it won't fall off, his belongings and his sword already on the back of his horse. After giving the stable boy a little bit of coin, he mounted Bob and followed Ned's party.
He rode to the retinue and slowed down beside Jory. "I'll be going off now, i won't be seeing yer for who-knows-when." He stated.
"Ha! When we meet again i'll be buying you a drink." Jory beamed. "Take care Cassel." Marcellus bid him. "Safe travels young Atlas, may the old Gods and the New bless you in abundance."
"Ut Luna et Sol te!' May the Sun and Moon guide you." He nodded, smiled and rode to Ned.
The quiet wolf looked at him and asked; "Where do you ride to?" Marcellus looked at his eyes. "To the White Tower."
"I wish you good fortune in the South, Atlas." Ned stated. "Thank you for the Hospitality, Stark. May we meet again." He replied shortly.
"Hyah!"
And he rode like the wind.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone