Silio Frell and Arya Stark stood opposite each other. The two of them were flexible in their body movements, and the wooden swords in their hands were swung intertwined.

The continuous sound of wooden swords hitting each other resounded in the open small hall.

"Up." Cialio Frell shouted, swinging towards Arya's head, and was easily blocked by the girl.

"Left." He called out again, and the wooden sword roared out. Her sword also rushed towards him, and another "click" sound.

"Right,", "down", "left", "left", Bravos' chief swordsman is getting faster and faster, approaching step by step, Arya keeps back and swinging every attack, sweat flowing down her hair, swaying in front of her eyes, but she can't distract her from any distraction.

"Left!" Cialio shouted, but the tip of the sword stabbed towards the girl's right shoulder.

‘This is the first lesson today’ thought Cialio thought: ‘Watching does not mean insight!’

However, he was surprised to see that the girl actually realized her intention. She pushed away the sword body, twisted her wrist, and slashed at her backhand.

He tried his best to dodge, and the sword edge passed by his shoulders.

Cialio took two steps back and stood there with a surprised expression: "Where did the girl learn it?"

Arya giggled on the other side.

She almost ran into Bravos' chief swordsman, just a little bit away.

"That's a secret..." Arya's expression was a little proud: "He told me that his eyes would follow the sword!"

Cialio chuckled when he heard this: "The girl is very awesome! It seems that the girl doesn't need to take this lesson." He put the wooden sword aside: "Then let's do it today-"

With a bang, the big wooden door in the small hall behind him was knocked open.

An imperial guard in a white robe walked in, followed by five Lannister guards wearing red cloaks and lion helmets.

Arya immediately recognized the drooping eyes and the rusty mustache, Sir Marin Tran.

"Alia Stark," Marin's voice was low and powerful: "Child, come with us."

Arya pouted indecisively, "What are you asking me for?"

"Your father wants to see you."

Arya was about to take a step when she was about to take a step, but her "dance teacher" held her hand: "Why didn't the Prime Minister send him down? Instead, she sent people from the Lannister family? I'm very curious."

"Dance teacher, don't be ungrateful," said Sir Marin. "Get aside."

At this time, Arya also realized something was wrong, and she raised the wooden sword in her hand: "My father wouldn't send you here."

Seeing this, the Lannister soldiers burst into laughter.

"Ha ha.."

"I'm scared to death..."

"Be good little sister, put down the stick..."

"I am a member of the brothers of the Imperial Guards, and I am the White Knight who swore to serve. I will not lie to you."

Arya shouted, “I won’t go!”

Marin Tran snorted coldly, and instantly pulled his face down: "Catch her." He ordered the Lannister soldier behind him, and then put down the cover: "Slay this Bravoss' crappy cat!"

The battle broke out in this small hall.

Arya immediately realized that her teacher was just having fun on weekdays.

Silio was not wearing a piece of armor, holding a wooden sword to fight against five. His body was as clever and elegant as a cat, and in a blink of an eye, he knocked down the heavily armed Lannister soldiers.

In the end, Marin Tran ended up in person.

The Imperial Guard was wearing heavy armor all over his body, and his head, feet, and even his throat and arms were protected by steel armor. The pure white helmet reflected the sunlight, just like the sun itself, the steel sword in his hand was gorgeous and hideous.

Arya screamed: "Silio, run!"

"Bravos' swordsman never runs away." The dance teacher said in a different voice than usual: "Girl, what should we say in the face of the God of Death?"

Arya cried: "The time has not come."

"Go and find another teacher of yours..." Cialio looked at the girl who looked surprised: "Does the girl think I don't know anything?"

"Go and find him,"

"Only he can save the girl's father."

Arya turned around and ran to the side door of the hall, and there were fighting sounds, roars and screams behind her.

She tried not to tell who was screaming, and kept thinking about every lesson Cialio taught her.

‘As fast as a deer.’

She ran down endless steps, passing through the front hall and kitchen full of corpses.

‘Silent like a shadow.’

She carefully pinched her feet and walked through the front yard guarded by Lannister's guards and ran into the dim cellar.

‘Stop like water.’

She climbed into the windowless hall, touched the skull of the Black Death God of Death in the dark, and finally, she came to an unattainable tunnel.

Without any hesitation, Arya stepped into the darkness.

———————————————

The sound of running and playing came from outside the window.

Bran Stark lay in bed, knowing that it was the sound of his younger brother Rickon playing with his dire wolf dog.

Bran could hear the child's feet running back and forth on the hard mud, and heard his brother's panting laughter.

He only felt a tingling pain in his heart, and he wanted to go on and laugh and jog like his younger brother.

But he had to lie here with his legs disabled.

Lie here for the rest of your life.

What's even more ridiculous is that he can't remember why he became like this.

The adults said that he fell from the tower and broke his legs, but he only remembered the scene when he climbed. The gray stones and the blue moss were still very vivid in his mind.

And a blurry golden face.

But he couldn't remember how he fell from the tower no matter what.

After that, he had a long dream.

He dreamed that he was falling from an infinite height, the ground hitting him, and the whole world was spread below, like a colorful brocade. Everything was extremely clear, and the whole kingdom and the figures and peoples of walking were all visible.

A crow surrounded him, taught him to fly, taught him to observe the world in another way.

At that moment, Bran felt true freedom.

However, when he woke up from his dream, he lay on the bed and lost his freedom forever.

"It's all lie," Bran said bitterly, remembering the crow in his dream. "I can't fly, I can't even run."

"The crow is good at lying." The old lady sat on a wooden chair beside the bed, doing needlework: "I know the story of a crow."

The old lady curled up in a ball with wrinkles on her face. Her turbid eyes should have been half blind. Only a few small pieces of white hair were left on her dry scalp covered with old-fashioned spots.

No one knew how old she was, and when she came to Winterfell, Bran's grandfather was still a baby.

"I don't want to listen to stories, I hate you those stupid stories."

The old woman opened her teethless mouth and smiled at Bran: "My story? No, my little master, the story is not mine. These stories have existed long before you and I were born."

Bran originally liked those stories, but now it's different.

The old lady had to accompany him, take care of him, take a bath for him, and coax him to sleep all day long.

Those mysterious and terrifying legends gradually turned into boring and repetitive stories.

But this time, the old lady told him a new story.

A cold and dark story he had never heard of.

It was a cold and harsh early winter thousands of years ago, with a long night and a hundred feet of snow.

The cold winter was so long that it spanned a whole generation. Children were born in the dark, grew up in the dark, and died in the dark. They would never see the sun in their lifetime.

The story contains a town swallowed by a snowstorm, aristocrats and kings sitting around the fire and frozen into ice sculptures.

In the story, there is a mother who suffocated her child. Her crystal tears frozen on her face before they even fell.

There is a skinny direwolf in the story.

Monsters with cold and death, pale dead horses, and white spiders as big as hunting dogs.

There are also armies of dead people, sweeping across the countryside, cities and kingdoms, killing thousands of heroes and soldiers.

The story is cold and terrifying, but the old lady's voice goes low and soft.

In this way, Bran slowly fell asleep.

He had the same dream again.

He flew in the sky, and the boundless world slowly unfolded in front of him like a painting.
To be continued...