4th Month of 300 A.C. Somewhere Beyond The Wall
Ser Allister Thorne
Times were changing, that much was clear. A Targaryen sat the throne once more, as they rightfully should, and a Stark had helped put the Targaryen King back on the throne, something that had echoes of a story he had heard long ago. But there was something else, the Wildlings were gone, reduced to dust by the power of horns, two horns, the dreaded horns he had heard so much about when he had first come to serve under Qorgyle. They were living in interesting times, though Alliser was not sure whether or not he approved of such a thing, there were things happening within the world that were changing his views on a lot of things. Mance Rayder for one. The man had been a traitor, an oath breaker and yet seeing the sacrifice the man had made, Alliser had been reminded of the boy who would constantly ask him questions, demanding to know more about the lands south of the watch. A feeling of sadness had engulfed him then, but he was not sure what more to think. Everything was changing, and he was slowly becoming little more than a remnant of a past age.
That was a thought that brought a wry laugh from him. Ser Alliser Thorne, the Captain of the Guard, formerly at least, the Master At Arms at Castle Black. For so long he had held positions within the orders he had served, and now, slowly but surely his time was coming to an end, as the witch had said it would all those years ago. He felt both sad and relieved, finally he might get some peace, a chance to find his wife and children once more, beyond the pale. He had gone too long without them, ever since they had died during the Sack, there had been a hollow shell inside of him, he was not quite the same, but there was an anger. Perhaps that was why Mance Rayder's betrayal had stung the most, he had come to see the boy as a son, and the man had turned on him and all they had stood for. He was not sure if there was anything left for him at the Wall now, he would do his duty as instructed by the Lord Commander, and he would fight and die if need be. He was a soldier; he knew how to die.
Alliser looks around at the ground before them, snow has fallen, and has created a deep white abyss for them to ride through. His men, all forty of them ride in formation, shivering no doubt, the cold breeze not easing things. Their objective is simple, ride to the Fist and get the horn, they cannot allow the horn to fall into the possession of the White Walkers, their enemies would no doubt find some sort of nefarious use for it. He will not lie to himself, there are times when he still struggles to accept the fact that all of this is happening, that the White Walkers and their beasts of death are the true enemy, and not the wildlings. For so long they have fought the wildlings, but it seems that there is no enemy left to fight now, and so they ride through the snow, watching and waiting. There is a sense of trepidation amongst his men, Thorne knows, he can sense it, but there is little he can do to ease it, and so he ignores it and keeps riding. There is a lot of snow on the ground, it seems to be covering the ground in more frequent bursts now. Alliser is only grateful that it is not snowing now, no doubt they would get lost if was.
The scouts had reported little to no activity beyond their line of sight, and so Alliser is reasonably confident that there will be no trouble, not now at least, but one can never be too sure. Still, he does not want to send more men out there, in case the dead are lying in wait, lurking close by, waiting to pounce on them. The pale eyes of the dead as they had attacked them at the Fist still haunt his waking and his sleeping hours, and so he gives his head a quick shake, causing his hair to bounce slightly, and then he focuses back on the task in front of them. The sounds of a river come into their hearing, the Milkwater he knows, a place where once there had been a great battle, and now is merely a shallow echo of what it once was, still at least they are on the right path. On they ride, the trees and the ground disappearing behind them, they are making good time, hopefully, the Fist will not be too far away. If they can make it to the Fist before the moon rises tonight, then Alliser will be very happy.
The sooner they get there, the better. The Horn, Alliser knows has power, though he is loath to admit it, he does not like thinking that there are things out there that he cannot control. For seven and ten years he has manned the Wall, and in all of that time he has never seen anything quite like those horns. With their runes written all over them, and the heat that radiates from them as well as the cold, they are strange creations, very strange, and most definitely very old, if the maester is to be believed. Not for the first time, he finds himself wondering just what happened all those many years ago when the darkness ensconced them all. He had grown up hearing tales about the Long Night, but had merely thought that it was simply something done for exaggeration, a tale to frighten bairns, but now the more he thinks on it, the more it seems as though there was some truth to the tales, and that, that scares him. The thought of going up against those White Walkers, with their pale eyes, and their ice like skin, terrifies him, and he will do what he can to avoid coming into contact with them if possible. Anything to avoid that fate.
The ruined fort comes into view then, and Alliser breathes a sigh of relief. "We ride up, and we begin looking." He barks out, his men merely nodding in acknowledgement. Alliser can feel his heart begin to beat quicker in his chest, the anticipation of finding the horn making him feel somewhat desperate, as if there is some long lost longing inside of him. He cannot quite explain it, but it is there, and so he decides to pacify it, and pushes his horse out into the front, leading the group. The ruined fort of the Fist stands there, no evidence whatsoever of the battle that occurred there some time ago, beyond the pale ash of the fires that engulfed the Wights. "Look for it over there." Alliser says to his men pointing toward the ring of ruins on the right side. The men nod and move their horses over there, usually they would dismount, but after what happened the last time, they are being understandably cautious. Alliser looks around and begins feeling a chill engulf him, a strange feeling that, there is snow here, and it is a heavy fall, but it was not cold until just now, something is wrong, he can feel it in his bones, what it is though, he is not sure.
"Anything?" he calls out then, to distract himself from the increasing sense of unease he feels.
"Nothing Ser." One of the men replies.
"Keep looking, it has to be here somewhere." Alliser calls back.
The cold is growing, a sense of despair is beginning to envelop him. It is something he can't quite understand, but he thinks he might know the cause of it. This place, the Fist, it was abandoned long ago, long before the Watch was ever created, there must have been a reason for that. From what he remembers from his lessons, the First Men never abandoned a fort without a reason, Oldstones fell into ruin due to the death of the Mudds, there was a fort in the north that was destroyed by the Boltons and never touched by the Starks again. Something forced the First Men to abandon this place, but what that reason was, he does not know, perhaps he will never know. "Found it?" he calls out questioningly. Silence is the response he gets, and that worries him even more. Deciding against his better judgement, he moves his horse out in the direction where the men should be. As his horse moves he hears something, a whisper, nothing more, and then it turns into a scream. Turning back around, he sees men he sent out to keep watch being torn to pieces, something making its way through them.
He knows he should turn and flee, but something in him has him rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to do anything but watch as his men, good men are cut down before him. He counts to three, and watches with horror as those men rise once more, their eyes pale and blue, the course decided. He finally manages to draw himself out of his reverie, and draws his sword, but the wights are not moving toward him, no they turn toward the fort and look to be gathering there. Curious, Alliser keeps his sword drawn, but watches as the wights stagger over to the fort, more and more of them moving toward it, before one of them stops and looks at him, before moving back toward the fort. He watches all of this, with a blank expression, whilst inside his whole being is screaming at him to leave, to move, to do anything possible to leave here, but he seems unable to. The thing that gets him to move finally, is when out of the fort, walks a thing with pale blue armour, and flaming blue hair, its eyes pale blue. A White Walker, looks at him, and then begins its slow march there, his men are forgotten, he begins riding as fast as he can, away from the White Walker and the oncoming approach of death.
His heart is racing, his breath is coming out fast and furious, he is desperate to get away, his horse is desperate to get away as well, but the snow seems to be slowing the beast down, and yet Alliser is not willing to leave the horse there. He has known that horse since he came to the Watch, has raised him and trained him, he will not leave him now. Suddenly, the White Walker is there before him, looking at him with something akin to laughter on its face. It draws its sword, and swings, Alliser's horse is slain then and Alliser falls to the ground, suddenly horseless, the thing stands over him, and looks into his eyes, and he feels a presence pushing at him. "You cannot win human. You shall fall, just as the others have." The voice says, deep and dark and terrifying.
"What are you?" he asks, with his mind and his voice.
"I am death. Your death human." The voice replies.
"Why?" he asks, hating the tremor that comes over him.
The voice in his head laughs. "Human kind has reached the end of its rope. You are all going to fall, and shall never rise again. The time of the humans is done. Now there will only be darkness."
Alliser stares into the face of death, and thinks of his wife and children, who died so long ago in King's Landing, he thinks of his wife's eyes, her laugh, everything about her fills him with warmth, he will get to see them again. "Then kill me and be done with it." he growls.
The figure does something that looks like a smile, before it raises its sword and brings it down on him. He feels cold momentarily, and then nothing. The emptiness fills the world, and there in the middle of it all is his wife, with her arms out stretched, welcoming him home. Home.