章節 4: The Cursed Child
(Pov Oswin)
Oswin went out to capture the woman who ran away from home.
He had brought back his son from the hands of the evil spirits, but something had changed in the baby, being touched by the spirits had left a death chill inside his body.
He hadn't noticed it at the time, but after returning home, he realized it.
He had taken old Thorley's wife, his furs, his weapons, and his cattle to his home, but soon after, the woman escaped saying that the boy had been cursed and would bring death to him if he stayed with him.
The woman was smart, she had fled to another village, and he could not go after her alone, as he would have to fight many other savages from other tribes Although he was strong, and the best warrior of the tribe, he would not endure a fight against so many people alone.
Annoyed, he returned to his hut after hunting for dinner thinking whether he should kill the cursed boy.
He didn't want to, he really didn't want to.
When he was young, he stole the belongings of a shaman from a neighboring tribe and the shaman cursed him saying that he would never have children and that he would be eaten by the dark spirits in his old age.
As the shaman said, despite being a man of great strength and having many women, none of them bore him a son.
It was the witch of the tribe who told him that she could give him a daughter if he would do her some favors, and he finally accepted.
Great was his surprise when he learned that he not only had a daughter, but a son as well.
That is why he was so angry when the woman betrayed him, and he killed the witch when she offered his son to the demons of the forest.
But it was too late now, and his son had been contaminated, perhaps killing him was the best option.
Thinking of this, Oswin entered his hut and was struck by the image of his son Blake, feeding his little sister.
Seeing the delicate way he was caring for her, Oswin decided to look a little more at what this cursed son was doing before deciding whether or not to kill him.
His son was certainly a cursed child, unlike his daughter, who had great red hair, his son Blake was getting paler and paler hair until he was as white as snow, and he also had blue eyes as bright as the stars.
Despite his early birth, he could do things that no child could, so he looked at him in detail, to see if the malice of the dark spirits also dominated him.
Oswin watched in surprise as his son, despite being cursed, took great care of the child, even to the point of trying to protect her from himself.
Perhaps he sensed his intentions when he entered the hut, he did not know, but he was sure that evil did not dominate his heart.
Oswin decided to trust his son for now.
He would watch him carefully, and if at any time he noticed the militia of evil spirits, he would slay him with his own hands.
***********************************
(1 year later)
"crack, crack, crack."
Blake, with agile movements, was fashioning a basket from long pieces of fire-dried twigs.
His hands had such strength, agility, and control that it was difficult to see his movements.
"Rookksskcsss!"
A loud, raspy sound was heard from the side of the hut.
"He snores loudly."
It was Oswin, Blake's father.
Blake placed the basket to the side, on top of five finished baskets.
He looked to his side where his sleeping sister lay, and began carving arrows as his father had taught him.
It wasn't that Blake didn't want to sleep like his father and sister did, it was that he couldn't.
Blake had explored his body's anomalies this year, not only did he not need to eat as much as a normal person, he didn't need nearly as much sleep.
Blake needed at most to sleep once every ten days, and eat once every three days.
That left him a lot of free time in the long nights of this place where he lived.
He used that time to carve arrows, and bowls, make baskets, or whatever he needed.
With the skins of the animals his father hunted, he had learned to make gloves, shoes, coats, and anything else he could think of, sewing it with strips of skin and making holes with his old knife.
Each time he made better clothes, better arrows, and in general, better crafts.
He was terribly bored all day in the hut.
Noticing that it was close to the time when his father woke up, he used the bronze helmet to make a stew using fish, roots, and wild mushrooms.
By the time his father awoke, it was ready along with a large bowl of water.
Without a word, Blake ladled the stew into two extra bowls, one for his father and one for his sister who had also awakened.
"Get the clothes and weapons ready, I'm going out hunting."
Blake fed his sister with a spoon he had carved out of wood listening to his father's words.
When he finished, he replied in a youthful but leisurely voice, like the soft icy breeze of winter.
"How long will you be out for this time?"
Oswin finished eating and drank the whole bowl of water in one gulp before answering.
"I don't know, a week maybe, I need to go to Grim Tower to sell the stuff you've made, it's piling up."
Since Blake had so much time on his hands, he had carved a lot of goods: Cups, plates, bowls, ladles, bowls of different sizes, he was even so skilled at carving boxes with their respective lids, and hammers among other things.
He also made quite resistant leather clothing, as well as a large number of arrows.
These things were so well made that Oswin had tried to trade them with the night watch in exchange for wine, oil, and other products such as flour and cattle at Blake's request.
The negotiations went well, the night watch having no trouble with the savages who want to stay on the other side of the wall, and some of them don't mind making trades, though they are mostly favorable to them.
"I packed a big bag a little while ago, You should be able to carry more stuff than before."
As Oswin beasts with the much more comfortable leather and fur garments made by Blake, he watches as Blake pulls out a huge leather bag.
He had reinforced it with several able and stitched it very carefully so that it would not break, even though it carried great weight.
Oswin had seen him making this huge bag for several nights so he was confident it would be sturdy.
Finishing dressing, he took the large backpack, in which Blake kept enough cooked meat for a week, followed by his axe and helmet, and went out nodding to Blake.
Blake watched his father leave and prepared his tools to continue with the day's task.
His father had tried to bring in some wild women, but they all ran away after a while.
They were terrified to be near him, saying he looked like an evil spirit and that misfortune would follow them.
Blake discovered that his abilities were not given as a blessing, quite the opposite, he had almost transformed into a white walker.
He had discovered where he had fallen after being reborn.
He did not find out quickly but had to first understand the words of his father Oswin, but when he did, and heard his stories, he knew instantly.
Night's Watch, The North, Dark Spirits, Old Gods, Giants, Children of the Forest, yes, Blake had ended up in Game of Thrones.
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