The hum in my chest was more than a flicker now—it was a fire, alive and fierce, tied to every beat of my tiny heart. It wasn't just a feeling; it was a partner, whispering promises of power in a world of ice and stone. I was still a baby, trapped in a cradle, my body a clumsy cage, but my mind was wide awake, racing with visions of glowing eggs and a shimmering plain that held infinite possibilities. There was something else, too—a presence, my friend, always just out of sight but never out of reach. I wasn't alone in this frozen land, and that gave me hope. But I needed a name to carry me forward, something to match the weight of what I'd become.
My mother knew it before I did. One evening, as the firelight danced across the rough stone walls, she leaned over me, her eyes sharp with love and something like fear. "You're no ordinary child," she said, her voice soft but heavy, like she was speaking to the gods themselves. "You need a name that holds your strength, your fate." Her finger traced my forehead, rough from years in this harsh land. "Rudr. Rudr Stark, son of Brandon, touched by powers older than the stars."
Rudr. The name hit me like a spark, igniting something deep. The hum flared, warm and approving, like it had been waiting for this. Rudr Stark, heir to a legacy I could barely grasp, destined for more than my father's walls. I couldn't speak, but in my mind, I seized it. Rudr. Time to make waves.
Time dragged, each day a lesson in waiting. My body was slow to catch up—I could wiggle my fingers, turn my head to chase the fire's glow. My mother's stories filled the air, tales of the First Men, the Children of the Forest, heroes who carved their names into the earth. Her voice was magic, and the hum answered, pulsing when she spoke of ancient powers or lost beasts. I'd see flashes—a green forest, a silver egg glowing like a star, a chirp I knew was Celebi. The hum was collecting her words, building something inside me, piece by piece.
Then, everything changed. No raiders this time, no clash of steel. Just a cold wind that didn't belong, carrying whispers that scraped against my mind. My mother froze, clutching me so tight I felt her heart race. The hum turned sharp, like a blade drawn in warning. I couldn't see them, but I felt them—the Children of the Forest, not the gentle ones from stories but a fringe group, their presence bitter and ancient. A voice, not spoken but inside my head, hissed words that cut. Outsider. Power stolen. Bound. The hum fought back, blazing so hot I thought I'd break, but it wasn't enough. Pain sank into me, cold and deep, like roots twisting around my soul. My mother's scream echoed, my father bellowed for help, but I was already fading, the hum caged.
When I woke, the world was still, but I was different. The hum was quieter, chained, and a weight settled over me—invisible, but real. A curse. My mother's voice trembled as she whispered to my father later that night. "The Children… they fear him. They've bound him to an island, hidden beyond Bear Island." Bound? I couldn't ask, but the hum showed me fragments—a misty shore, a place of power, my prison. I'd be trapped there, only free to leave at random moments before great events, until the Children's magic faded. The hum promised it would, in time, and I'd be free. Until then, I was Rudr Stark, cursed but not broken.
That same night, a boy appeared in our hall, no older than me, his eyes wide and curious. His name was Torren Cassel, son of one of my father's loyal men. He'd been brought to see the "strange babe," but he didn't gawk like the others. He just stared, like he saw the hum, too. My mother smiled faintly. "He'll be your shadow, Rudr. Your friend." The hum pulsed, and I knew—Torren was meant to stay with me, through the curse, through everything. He'd come to the island, my companion for life.
The visions kept coming, sharper now. A silver egg, cracking with light. A pink shape darting through a glowing forest. A green chirp, whispering of time. My infinite resource dimension shimmered in my mind—gold mountains, crystal rivers, trees heavy with glowing fruit. The eggs—Arceus, Mew, Celebi—waited there, alive, tied to me. My father's voice broke through, steady as stone. "He's marked, curse or no. He'll outlast them." He was right. I'd grow, I'd learn, and I'd break free.
The island would be my home, a sanctuary I'd make mighty with my powers. I'd sail on a ship grander than anything this world had seen, a floating palace of luxury and strength, powered by my dimension. Torren would be there, my friend through it all. And when the curse weakened, I'd step onto Bear Island, save its people from a raid, and seek Rickard Stark, tying my fate to his. The Riverlands, North, True North, and Vale—they'd be mine, not by force but by right. For now, I was Rudr Stark, a cursed child with a spark that wouldn't die. The hum pulsed, Torren's curious eyes met mine, and I knew: this was just the start.