Winterfell awoke under an unnatural gray sky. Snow fell thickly, muffling the sounds of the Northern keep. The air smelled faintly of iron and ash, as if the coming battle had already begun.
Althea stood atop the battlements, cloak billowing against the wind. Her eyes scanned the horizon where shadows moved unnaturally, hints of Lily's sorcery twisting the landscape itself.
"They will come," Job said behind her, his breath visible in the frost.
"And this time, they will not come as men."
The child stood beside them, silver light faintly glowing around her hands.
"We face fire and shadow alike," she whispered.
"But the North has never feared what others call impossible."
Lily's Assault
In King's Landing, Lily's black obsidian mirror shivered with anticipation. She chanted over it, her voice weaving into the strands of magic that had been planted in the North.
"Let them tremble under illusions, let their alliances crumble, let their hearts falter," she hissed.
"Winterfell will bow, or it will burn in its own mistrust."
Shadows moved from the mirror, creeping along trade routes, infiltrating towns, and striking fear before arriving. They were no longer mere assassins they were spectral, half-reality, half-nightmare.
Winterfell's Defenses
Althea convened the Northern lords in the Great Hall. Torchlight flickered across anxious faces, reflecting the fear that even hardened warriors carried.
"Tonight, the enemy will test us in mind, heart, and soul," Althea said.
"Do not rely solely on swords. Rely on each other."
Job nodded, placing a hand on the child's shoulder.
"We fight as one," he said.
"Every illusion we destroy, every lie we reveal, weakens her spell."
Spectral wolves prowled the walls, summoned by the child's magic, their eyes glowing in warning. The castle itself seemed alive, frost forming sigils across battlements and gates, ready to strike.
The Shadows Strike
The first attack came as silence. Northern lords slept in their chambers, and yet whispers slithered into their minds. Shadows appeared in forms they trusted most friends, kin, mentors urging betrayal, sowing discord.
Althea, sensing the magical disturbances, summoned frost in a wide sweep across the Great Hall. Illusions shattered, screams echoing as false images vanished.
Job drew Longclaw, eyes glowing faintly with residual magic.
"Lily's shadows feed on doubt," he growled.
"But our bond is stronger than fear."
The child's silver light pulsed, illuminating the hall with protective wards, freezing the shadows mid-step.
The Battle of Wits and Magic
Althea moved through the castle like a wraith. She struck illusions with frost, revealing hidden spies and traitors. Every corner was a potential threat, every whisper a possible lie.
"She tests our loyalty," Althea said,
"And she will stop at nothing to make us doubt ourselves."
Job confronted one particularly insidious shadow a specter in the likeness of a Stark ancestor, whispering false prophecies of doom. He swung Longclaw, cutting through the illusion, only to have another rise immediately behind him.
"Do not let them deceive you!" Althea shouted.
"The North survives because we see the truth, even when it is obscured by fire and shadow!"
Sacrifice and Courage
Maeve stepped forward, chanting protective spells that merged frost and silver light. Each spell drew from her life force, weakening her but bolstering the wards around Winterfell.
"I cannot do this alone," she said.
"We all must sacrifice something to survive the night."
The child reached for Althea's hand, her magic merging with the Queen's frost and Job's fire. A wave of light and frost spread through the castle, countering the invading shadows, turning terror into clarity.
The Northern lords fought as one, their trust in each other tested and reaffirmed, breaking Lily's control over their hearts.
Lily's Defeat
In the final confrontation, Althea channeled every ounce of her power. Frost and silver light combined, striking the dark magic at its source. The obsidian mirror in King's Landing shattered, and Lily's voice echoed once, fading
"This is not the end"
But her spells were undone, her illusions broken, and her influence over Winterfell vanished for now.
Job lowered Longclaw, chest heaving.
"It is over," he said quietly.
"But at a cost we cannot yet measure."
The child, exhausted but resolute, looked at Althea and Job.
"We have survived the last stand," she said.
"But the war will echo forever."
Aftermath
Winterfell was battered but standing. The frost-covered walls held, wards shimmering faintly like scars of survival. Northern lords and soldiers were united in a fragile, hard-won loyalty.
Althea walked to the battlements, staring at the horizon.
"The North endures," she whispered.
"But I cannot remain here any longer."
Job placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Where will you go?"
Althea looked at the snow, at the child, at the life she had helped forge.
"Back to the world I came from," she said.
"I have given this story its end. My part here is finished."
Departure
The child and Job watched silently as Althea mounted her horse. She turned one last time, eyes glowing with frost and silver light.
"Remember," she whispered.
"Even in stories, even in myths, love and courage shape reality."
And then, she rode beyond the horizon, beyond the story, leaving Winterfell and the saga she had lived behind.
The North would endure. The myths would live on. And in another world, Althea's story would continue but not within this one.