~~~Third Person~~~
~~~Twelfth Moon, 277 AC~~~
The scene in Westeros was very different from how it had appeared during the wedding of the century, the time when the kingdom was united under one banner was long gone, now, the disorder and miscommunication between its parts was a faithful reminder of the strong trouble that crossed all of Westeros.
From the top of the pyramid of power, the royal family was scattered, Queen Rhaella was locked in her room inside the Fortress of Maegor, without coming out and without allowing her son Viserys to come out in the same way, which created fights and long discussions with Aerys, which turned into arguments between Aerys and Tywin.
And following said example, the realm was also fractured, the Vale was still without a guide or a diligent one, instead, skirmishes were created daily, and while it had not escalated to more, it was a matter of time before a full-fledged civil war was formed.
The Reach was surprisingly silent, ever since the letters of Mace Tyrell's death supposedly at the hands of a Faceless Man, the Reach had been silent, and the only news circulating was that Lady Olenna had returned to selling grain to the rest of the realm, no doubt alleviating the food shortages that plagued the common folk. As well as having all the Ironborn removed from the Reach, severing any ties that Mace, or the Faceless Man had created before his fate.
Westerland was in a phase of maximum power, thanks to the intervention of the Xandarian fleet, the Lannister fleet was largely unaffected, which meant that they were able to stop the vast majority of Ironborn attacks. Dorne and Stormlands were having a good time, with strong leaders in charge, both Doran Martell and Stefan Baratheon had managed to keep their people safe.
But the same could not be said for the Riverlands, it had suffered the most, the Ironborn had done their worst the moment their rebellion became formal, resulting in thousands of women being taken as salt wives, and men and children being slaughtered in every village near the shores the Ironborn came to.
Because of this, hundreds of ravens were sent to the capital in search of a measure of relief from their troubles, for clearly the Tully had not been able to. Unfortunately for them, the capital and the Iron Throne were more interested in rescuing Prince Rhaegar from the clutches of the Darklyns of Duskendale than coming to the aid of one of their Bannerman.
"Leave the horses here, we will advance on foot from here," Ser Gerold spoke with a certain excited tone in his voice, as he saw in the distance the lights of the city.
Speaking of rescuing the prince, the three men who had been selected to do so were only minutes away from doing the job. "Well, let's hope it will do," Ser Arthur said, still unconvinced, but with no choice, he swallowed the first potion in one gulp.
The effect was noticed immediately, the pupils of his eyes, which were dilated to catch as much light in the night, became like a slit, then expanded, to the point that it occupied the entire iris of the eye, then returned to normal.
The veins in his arms and hands widened, the blood pumped forcefully from his heart and reached all parts of his body, as a frenzy of emotions and feelings swept through him. "Ah, by the Seven!" Arthur couldn't help but exclaim, feeling the power coursing through his body. "Are you okay, how are you feeling?" Gerold couldn't help but ask, feeling concern for his comrade-in-arms.
"It's... fantastic." Was the only thing Arthur said, to then ingest the speed potion, and feel a sensation similar to the one he felt moments before, "very good, now I'm ready," he commented with a wide smile on his face, to then stomp hard on the left stirrup and raise his right leg to get off the horse, but he didn't measure his new strength, which caused the straps of his horse's saddle to break, hurting the horse and making the animal rearing up, resulting in Arthur falling flat on his face.
But it was at that precise moment that something... Magical happened, Arthur reacted with supernatural speed and agility, he managed to turn his body as if he were a cat, to the point of falling standing up. "Hehehe," all he did was laugh nervously, after passing the scare.
"Well, they seem to be working," with Arthur's reminder. Gerold and Barristan snapped out of their stupor, and looking at each other's faces, sighed, "Yes, it seems so." Barristan said, looking at the vial of strength potion in his hand with a calculating look. "By the Seven, forgive me if this is about some vile, demonic magic." He said to himself, then removing the cork and drinking the potion.
.
.
.
Trees whizzed past their sides at full speed, the wind brushed their cheeks hard, and despite wearing long robes, these did not stop the three men from running at superhuman speeds, with the birds even being left behind in their flight, not being worthy opponents for the speed at which Arthur, Gerold and Barristan were running.
Their faces showed expressions of bubbling euphoria and excitement, rejoicing in the power they possessed at this moment, even their robes soiled with mud and dust from the falls they had taken before they learned to mediate their speed did not prevent them from being happy, despite the supremely important mission ahead of them.
It was not until a few minutes later, that they reached the southern end of the city, their clothes were damp, because they had to swim along the coast to avoid the forces of the crown lands, to avoid being seen and that someone would let slip the comment of seeing three royal guards in the besieged camp, and thus lose the surprise factor inside the city.
Now standing in front of the city wall, they could not thank Azrael again, as the potions had helped him greatly in his efforts.
Looking up, Gerold noted how there were regular patrols along the battlements and corridors of the wall, so if they wanted to go up, it would have to be quickly and quietly, deal with the guards on the ramparts and take their places.
The rock used in the rampart was limestone and brick blocks, and although old the rampart was very well-kept, and to make a hole in it with catapults would take several hours, but something told him that his idea was not crazy, and bringing his hand close to the rampart, he put his palm on the rampart and squeezed.
His fingers became shaky, as he applied pressure, until his five fingers made holes in the rock, "hahaha, I love this", without a second thought, Gerold did the same with his right hand, and with two sources of support, he leaned on the rock of the wall and lifted himself off the ground, "what are you waiting for? Do the same, we don't know how much time we have left, we must rescue the prince".
Without further ado, Barristan and Arthur did the same, starting to climb the wall that way, becoming more and more amazed at what a simple liquid could do.
When they reached the top, Gerold hung by his right hand, while with his left he signaled his two followers to wait, above, a group of four men were walking, oblivious to their surroundings, the part of the wall where they were facing the coast, and the land part nearby was inaccessible to people, since you had to swim out to sea several meters to reach the kind of cliff.
"Now." With the command, the three of them spurred and leapt towards the top of the wall, which startled the four guards who drew their swords in fright. Gerold, full of resentment towards these men, did not control himself in the least, and without drawing his sword, ran towards the two closest men and grabbed them by their hooves, crushing their skulls with only the force of his grip.
The two bodies fell to the ground with a thud, while the other two guards stood amazed at the speed with which Gerold had closed the distance of five meters in less than a second. "Splash!" However, their inaction proved costly to them, as both of the two men's heads fell to the ground, not even knowing what had happened.
"Looks like this is going to be easier than I thought," Arthur said with a sneer on his face, appearing behind the two headless bodies, his milky-colored sword stained with blood.
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