Ficool

Chapter 15 - Back in bogwater

The morning sun filtered through the cracks in Moat Cailin's crumbling stone walls, casting long streaks of gold across the moss-covered floor. Levi stirred from the makeshift cot he'd been given the night before, bones creaking louder than he'd like to admit. He wasn't used to rough sleep—or any real activity for that matter—but after the events of the past three days, his body had no choice but to adjust.

Still, as far as he was concerned, there was nothing wrong with sleeping in and being lazy… if only everyone around him didn't act like every sunrise was a call to war.

Voices echoed through the fortress halls. Not angry ones, but excited—youthful. Curious.

He sat up, rubbing his neck. His back still throbbed slightly from the fall in the ruined tower, though the pain was nothing compared to the adrenaline that had coursed through him when he first saw that cheat engine file appear beneath his fingers. It had taken every ounce of self-control not to start yelling about gold and apples and instant strongholds. Thankfully, no one saw him—well, except Lyanna.

He grimaced. She'd stared at him like he was a madman who tripped over his own feet and nearly died shouting in a pile of moss. Which, in fairness, he had.

But now, with the weight of three days behind him and no more excuse to keep his head in the sand, Levi could feel the world inching closer, tugging at the sleeve of his borrowed tunic.

Outside, near the courtyard, he spotted Lyanna and Benjen preparing to leave. A pair of horses stood saddled, their packs filled modestly. Servants bustled nearby, final checks made under the watchful gaze of armed retainers.

"We'll be off soon," Lyanna said to no one in particular, voice light but firm. "The Vale's too far to delay."

Benjen gave a quiet nod, not nearly as energetic as his sister but clearly ready to travel.

Levi and Jory stood by a worn stone archway, silently watching. Jory shifted from foot to foot before sighing.

"I think we overstayed our welcome," he said under his breath.

Levi chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah. Time to head back, huh?"

"Mae's going to skin me alive," Jory muttered, already imagining the verbal lashing he was about to receive.

As Lyanna mounted her horse, she spared one last glance at Levi. For a moment, her expression wavered—not quite mockery, not quite sympathy. She didn't say goodbye. She didn't need to. Whatever she thought of him now, it had already been said with a look the day before.

Benjen gave a small wave to Jory. "Safe travels," he said politely, before nudging his horse forward. And just like that, the Stark siblings were off, riding out of Moat Cailin toward the kingsroad and the Vale beyond.

Levi waited until the last of their party disappeared down the trail. Then, quietly, he turned to face the ruined fortress one last time. The breeze was light but damp, carrying the earthy scent of stone, decay… and potential.

"…Maybe," he muttered, "maybe I could rebuild this place someday."

His eyes flicked to the sky. The cheat engine. The file. The folders waiting to be opened—stored food, piles of gold, weapons beyond count. If it really worked… if this wasn't some hallucination born of a concussion…

"Not now," he said, almost scolding himself. "Not while eyes are watching."

Jory nudged his shoulder. "You spacing out again?"

"Thinking," Levi replied.

"You? That's new."

Levi grinned. "Shut it."

The trip back to Bogwater was less of an adventure and more of a quiet, awkward trudge. Their feet kicked up little puffs of dirt as the sun climbed and then dipped, marking the slow end of Levi's so-called "grace days."

By the time the first roofs of Bogwater came into view, the village was already stirring with evening smoke. Cooking fires. Barking dogs. People returning to huts and homes. Life, as quiet and harsh as ever.

And then—

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!?"

Mae's voice cracked across the air like a whip. She stood outside her home, arms folded, lips pressed into a scowl only a woman who'd raised generations could manage.

Jory froze. "Oh no."

Mae marched toward them with fire in her eyes. "You were supposed to go to Moat Cailin and come back before sundown yesterday. Yesterday! Do you know what I thought?"

"Mae, I—"

"I thought you'd run off. I thought bandits took you. I thought maybe you fell down a well! And you—" She pointed a bony finger at Levi. "I don't even know what to call you anymore. Lazy? Dumb? Trouble?"

Levi raised both hands. "Technically, I didn't fall down a well—just a tower."

That didn't help.

Jory quickly stepped forward, blurting out everything. He explained the delay, the guards, the noble visitors, the detour inside Moat Cailin, and the fact that they didn't leave without reason.

Mae narrowed her eyes. "You best explain that to your mother, too," she warned. "Or she'll go storming off to your father—and then you'll both be sorry."

Jory winced. "Understood."

Mae sighed and turned back toward the hut. "Come on, then. Supper's not going to cook itself, and I'm too tired to deal with any more nonsense today."

Levi followed Jory inside, the weight of the day settling in his bones. But his mind? That was elsewhere.

Because deep within the recesses of his thoughts, far from Mae's wrath and Jory's sheepish grin, Levi could still see the file. Still remember the feeling of his hand pressing against cold stone, the jolt of familiarity, the unmistakable shape of a future forming.

He wasn't ready yet. Not today. But someday?

Someday, Moat Cailin wouldn't be a ruin.

It would be his.

More Chapters