Capítulo 80: Chapter 78 - Burdened With Glorious Purpose
125 AC
The first day of the fifth moon
Ulf Pov
The towering walls of Winterfell loomed large as Harlon and I rode through the gates, flanked by a contingent of Night's Watchmen. The air was thick with an unspoken weight, matching the heaviness in my heart.
My friends stood in the courtyard – Hugh, Mushroom, Cregan, and my loyal squire Addam. Hugh's reproachful embrace conveyed both relief and frustration. "You idiot," he scolded, echoing the thoughts I had already leveled at myself. "I told you not to go without me."
"Are you well?" he asked, genuine concern etched across his face.
"My body is aching, but otherwise, I'm well," I replied, my attempt at reassurance falling flat in the face of the lingering shadows.
"I should have been there to kill those fuckers," Hugh muttered bitterly, his frustration a mirror of my own.
"Ulf made sure of that," Harlon's voice cut through the heavy air, a reminder of the decisions made in Nightfort.
As the others greeted me, my mind drifted back to the events across the Wall. The last fragments of memory were of walking back to Garmon, the weight of what transpired lingering like a heavy cloak.
"Are you listening to me, Ulf?" a high-pitched voice interrupted my reverie. I turned to see a girl with stormy grey eyes and jet black hair.
"Yes," I replied, and her eyes brightened inexplicably.
"Thank you so much," she exclaimed, hugging me tightly before rushing off with a sense of urgency.
"I will go and start packing," she declared with a hurried urgency, leaving me in a perplexed daze.
"What just happened?" I mumbled to myself, the weight of the unforeseen decision settling like a heavy shroud.
"You, my friend, just told my sister that she can come on your journey across the Seven Kingdoms," Cregan's voice cut through the air, the weight of the consequence palpable.
"May the Seven have mercy," I sighed, the burden of impending disappointment pressing down on me. I couldn't escape the daunting realization of having to tell her that such a journey was nothing more than a fleeting dream. The shadows of impossibility cast a gloom over my already troubled soul.
"I wish to go to the godswood, Cregan," I uttered with a weariness that seemed to seep into the very air around us.
Seeing the profound distress etched across my face, Cregan offered to accompany me. The godswood welcomed us with its silent sanctuary, and as the towering weirwood tree came into view, I lowered myself onto a weathered log, closing my eyes in an attempt to find solace.
In the tranquility of the godswood, the floodgates of memory swung open, and I found myself immersed in a vivid recollection. My own eyes bore witness to the dragonglass dagger piercing the heart of the Corpse Queen, my body a mere vessel for the act. The stare from my own eyes, pure as the driven snow, sent shivers down my spine, and I jolted awake with a gasp, shaken by the enigma of whatever dark vision had seized me.
Clutching my head, I struggled to breathe, the pace of my heartbeat quickening with each passing moment. "Calm down, Ulf," Cregan's voice cut through the haze of my distress.
After what felt like an eternity, I managed to claw my way back to some semblance of composure. As I gazed up at the sky, the azure expanse seemed to warp into a canvas of foreboding, painting vivid pictures of death and destruction that loomed over the Seven Kingdoms. The weight of responsibility bore down on me, an oppressive force that stirred a tumult of emotions within.
In the twisted tapestry of my thoughts, the deaths of men and dragons merged into a haunting ballet. The dance unfolded in the vast expanse of the heavens, dragons and men tumbling from the skies in a macabre waltz. The once-blue sky transformed into a deep, blood-red hue, a sinister reflection of the carnage that awaited the realm.
The vision played out relentlessly: the majestic creatures with scales aflame, the clash of wings and roars echoing in the air, and the agonizing descent of both dragon and rider. The crimson-stained sky bore witness to the catastrophic symphony of life and death, each note a poignant reminder of the impending doom that threatened to engulf the Seven Kingdoms.
I found myself ensnared in this hallucination, a helpless spectator to the apocalyptic scenes unfolding in my mind. The vivid imagery seared into my consciousness, leaving an indelible mark of dread and despair. As I struggled to reconcile the weight of the prophetic burden, the line between reality and illusion blurred, and the dance of dragons continued its haunting cadence in the recesses of my fevered mind.
"I will save them all," I declared, though the resolve in my voice wavered beneath the burden of uncertainty.
"Ulf, come with me. I'll take you to the maester," Cregan suggested, concern etched on his face.
My body's temperature rose, evident even to Cregan as he touched my forehead, remarking on the fever that gripped me. Through the haze of delirium, I looked at my friend, sensing the hardships he, too, would endure.
"Cregan," I whispered, raising my hand weakly.
"Yes, Ulf?" he responded.
"Protect her. You'll live a long life, so do not rush for an heir," I implored, the words carrying a feverish urgency before succumbing to unconsciousness. The boundaries between reality and the surreal blurred as my mind surrendered to the relentless onslaught of visions and emotions.
I awoke slowly, the soft glow of light filtering into the room. The remnants of the haunting visions from the Dance of Dragons still lingered, leaving me paralyzed, unable to reach for the jug of water. The vivid imagery clung to my mind like a relentless specter.
"Here," came Hugh's voice, breaking through the haze. He gently helped me up, offering a jug of water. As I sipped, I met Hugh's gaze, only to find a grim expression etched on his face.
"What happened at the Wall, Ulf?" he asked, concern permeating his voice.
I stared ahead, unwilling to meet his eyes. "I am burdened, Hugh," I finally admitted, my gaze locking onto my friend's unwavering stare. "Burdened with a duty I never wanted."
"What duty?" he inquired.
"I saw all of you dead. Men perishing, dragons plummeting from the sky, rivers of blood – and I didn't just witness it. I felt it," I confessed.
"Let me call the blasted maester," Hugh suggested, moving to get up, but I held his hand.
"Please, don't go, Hugh," I pleaded as my body trembled.
"There will be a war, Hugh. A war of proportions unseen before," I continued, tears streaming down my face. "I don't know how I can survive, let alone save everyone."
"Ulf!" Hugh's voice resonated loudly as he shook my arms. "Look at me," he urged.
I met his eyes, desperation and love evident in his gaze.
"Listen to me," he implored. "No matter what war comes, it doesn't matter. You and I will face it together. Whether it's a thousand men or a damned dragon, we'll face it together. Do you understand?"
"I do," I whispered, feeling a surge of emotion coursing through me.
"I know that I never say it aloud," Hugh confessed, his voice filled with raw honesty.
"But if anything ever happens to you, I don't know how I'll live with myself. You hear me?" he declared with conviction. "You're the only family I've ever had, and if you die, I'll bring your soul from the Seven Hells if need be."
Tears welled in his eyes, mirroring the tumult of emotions within us. In that vulnerable moment, Hugh bared his soul, expressing a depth of emotion that transcended words. His heartfelt words became a lifeline, grounding me in the face of impending chaos, and for the first time, I felt a glimmer of hope amid the shadows threatening to consume me.
PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES 
Last_Quincy
Last_Quincy There you have it guys Ulf finally has a mental breakdown which honestly was a long time coming since his visions started during the Northern arc.
There will be a time skip in the next chapter.
I would love to hear your thoughts on the chapter and story as well along with any criticisms you guys have as it makes me improve as a writer and storyteller.
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