Lyonel POV
The forest had grown quiet.
Too quiet.
Even the wind seemed to have stilled, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath. Lyonel did not like it. He sat tall in the saddle, his hand resting near the hilt of his sword, eyes scanning the darkness between the trunks.
Beside him, Hendry rode in silence.
They had been tracking for hours now, following broken branches, footprints, and the faint signs of men who thought themselves clever enough to hide. But Lyonel had learned something over his life.
No one disappeared completely.
Not from a trained eye.
Not from men who had something to lose.
"There," Hendry whispered suddenly.
Lyonel followed his gaze.
Through the trees, barely visible in the gloom, stood a mine shaft, its mouth yawning open like a wound in the earth. Two figures stood guard outside it, dimly lit by the flicker of torches.
Bandits.
Lyonel narrowed his eyes.
One of them carried a shield.
Not just any shield.
A field of black nightingales on yellow.
House Caron.
His jaw tightened.
He leaned closer to Hendry, lowering his voice to barely more than a breath. "It seems your suspicions were right. These are the same men."
Hendry's face darkened, anger settling into his features like iron. "Then we end it here."
Lyonel nodded.
No more talking.
No more waiting.
They drew their swords in one smooth motion.
Then they rode.
The charge was sudden, thunder crashing through the stillness of the forest. The bandits barely had time to react—one turned, eyes widening, mouth opening to shout—
Too late.
Lyonel's blade cut him down cleanly, the man collapsing before the sound could fully leave his throat.
Beside him, Hendry crashed into the second man like a storm. Steel rang once, twice—then blood sprayed, and the man fell.
Silence returned.
Only their breathing remained.
Lyonel exhaled slowly, then dismounted, his boots hitting the earth with a dull thud. Hendry followed.
They stood at the mouth of the mine.
Dark.
Deep.
Waiting.
"This must be their hideout," Lyonel said quietly.
Hendry nodded, his grip tightening on his sword. "Then he's down there."
Lyonel glanced at him.
"Say your prayers," Lyonel murmured.
Hendry gave a small, grim smile. "The Seven won't save him."
His eyes hardened.
"We will."
Lyonel held his gaze for a moment, then nodded.
He reached to his side.
Paused.
Then made his decision.
His hand left the familiar hilt of his sword—and moved instead to the other weapon at his waist.
Slowly, deliberately, he drew it.
Adder's Fang.
The blade slid free with a soft whisper, dark and rippling in the faint torchlight. It almost seemed alive, the steel shifting like a serpent coiled and ready to strike.
Hendry's eyes widened. "That's—"
"Yes," Lyonel said quietly.
He didn't explain further.
He didn't need to.
He turned toward the mine.
"I go first."
Hendry nodded.
No hesitation.
No argument.
Lyonel stepped forward and began his descent.
The ladder creaked beneath his weight as he climbed down, one rung at a time. The light from above faded quickly, swallowed by darkness as he descended deeper into the earth.
One ladder.
Then another.
Then a third.
The air grew colder.
Damp.
Thick with the smell of dirt, blood… and something worse.
Rot.
Lyonel's boots finally touched solid ground.
He stepped off the ladder, raising Adder's Fang slightly as his eyes adjusted. Torches burned along the walls, casting flickering shadows that danced like ghosts across the stone.
He waited.
Moments later, Hendry dropped down beside him.
They exchanged a glance.
No words.
Only understanding.
"We stay quiet," Lyonel whispered. "We stay together."
Hendry nodded.
They moved forward.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Each step measured, each breath controlled. The mine stretched ahead of them, narrow and twisting, the flicker of torches revealing just enough to keep them from stumbling, but never enough to feel safe.
Every sound echoed.
Every movement felt too loud.
Drip.
Drip.
Water fell somewhere in the dark.
Lyonel tightened his grip on the sword.
Then—
They stopped.
The path split.
Two tunnels stretched ahead, both equally dark, equally silent.
Lyonel frowned.
"Left," he whispered. "We go left."
Hendry nodded.
They turned and moved into the passage.
The tunnel narrowed quickly, forcing them closer together. The air grew heavier, harder to breathe. Lyonel's unease deepened with every step.
Then—
Rubble.
The path was blocked completely, stones collapsed inward, sealing the way ahead.
Lyonel cursed under his breath.
"Wrong way."
They turned—
AHHHHHHHHHH!
The scream tore through the mine like a blade.
Raw.
Broken.
Full of agony.
Lyonel froze.
Hary.
It had to be.
But Hendry—
Hendry didn't freeze.
He ran.
"HENDRY—!" Lyonel hissed, but it was already too late.
Hendry was gone, sprinting back the way they came, reckless, desperate, driven by something stronger than fear.
Blood.
Family.
Lyonel cursed and chased after him, boots pounding against stone, Adder's Fang clenched tight in his hand.
His boots slammed against the stone as he chased after Hendry, the sound of that scream still ringing in his ears. It echoed through the tunnels, twisting and warping until it no longer sounded entirely human.
Hary.
It had to be him.
"Hendry, wait—!" Lyonel hissed, but Hendry did not slow.
Of course he didn't.
Lyonel cursed under his breath and pushed himself faster.
Then—
Hendry stopped.
So suddenly that Lyonel nearly crashed into him.
Lyonel caught himself and looked ahead.
The tunnel had opened into a wider chamber, lit by a handful of torches hammered into the rock. Shadows flickered along the walls, stretching and twisting like demons.
And in that light—
Four men.
Bandits.
Rough, armed, filthy.
And behind them—
A cage.
Lyonel's stomach dropped.
Hary.
He was inside, crumpled against the bars like something broken and discarded.
One of the bandits turned, squinting into the dim light. "Who the fuck are you two?"
Hendry stepped forward.
His voice was quiet.
Cold.
"Justice."
Then he moved.
No hesitation. No warning.
He rushed forward like a storm unleashed, his blade driving straight into the belly of the nearest bandit. The man gasped, eyes wide, as Hendry gutted him, steel tearing through flesh with a wet, sickening sound.
The others reacted instantly.
"Kill them!"
Lyonel was already moving.
Adder's Fang came alive in his hand.
The first man lunged at him with a crude axe, swinging wildly. Lyonel stepped aside, the blade whistling past his shoulder—
Then struck.
One clean cut.
The Valyrian steel sliced through the man's arm like it wasn't there.
The limb hit the ground a heartbeat before the scream came.
Lyonel didn't stop.
He stepped in close and drove the blade across the man's throat. Blood sprayed hot against his hand as the bandit collapsed.
Two left.
Hendry was locked with one, their blades clashing in tight, brutal exchanges. The bandit was strong, but Hendry fought like a man possessed.
Like a brother who had heard that scream.
The last bandit came for Lyonel.
A sword this time.
Better.
More dangerous.
The man circled him, cautious now. "You'll die screaming like the other one," he snarled.
Lyonel said nothing.
He watched.
Waited.
The man attacked fast, aiming for Lyonel's throat.
Lyonel parried, the impact ringing through his arm. The bandit pressed him, swinging again and again, forcing Lyonel back a step—
Two steps—
Then Lyonel shifted.
A feint.
A twist.
Adder's Fang moved like a serpent, slipping past the man's guard and biting deep into his side.
The bandit gasped.
Lyonel ripped the blade free and struck again—this time across the chest.
The man fell.
Dead before he hit the ground.
Lyonel turned—
Hendry roared and slammed his sword into the last bandit's neck, driving him to the ground. He struck again.
And again.
And again.
Until the man stopped moving.
Silence.
Heavy.
Thick.
Only their breathing filled the chamber.
Lyonel lowered his blade slowly, chest rising and falling. His hands were slick with blood, some his, most not.
Hendry didn't even look at him.
He dropped his sword and rushed to the cage.
"Hary!"
His hands shook as he searched the dead men, ripping keys from a belt. He fumbled with the lock, cursed, then finally—
Click.
The door swung open.
Hendry dropped to his knees. "Hary, it's me, it's me, I've got you."
Hary jerked away violently.
"Don't touch me!" he screamed, thrashing.
"Hary!" Hendry grabbed him again, gentler this time. "It's me, Hendry, your brother."
For a moment—
Nothing.
Then Hary stilled.
His breathing was ragged.
Broken.
"H… Hendry?" his voice cracked.
"Yes," Hendry said quickly. "Yes, I'm here."
Hary reached out blindly.
And Lyonel saw.
Seven above.
His eyes—
Gone.
Where they should have been was only darkness. Empty, ruined sockets, streaked with blood.
Lyonel felt something twist in his gut.
Horror.
Real, cold horror.
Hary collapsed forward, grabbing Hendry and pulling him into a desperate embrace. "They took them," he choked. "They took my fucking eyes."
"I know," Hendry whispered, holding him tight. "I know, I'm here, I've got you."
Lyonel looked away.
This wasn't his place.
Not this moment.
He stood there, silent, letting the brothers cling to each other in the dark.
Time passed.
Seconds.
Minutes.
It felt longer.
Finally, Lyonel forced himself to speak.
"We need to leave," he said quietly. "He needs a maester. Now."
Hendry nodded immediately. "Yes."
He shifted, trying to help Hary stand.
Hary screamed.
The sound tore through the chamber.
"My back, fuck.!"
Hendry froze. "Easy, easy."
He tried again, slower this time, but Hary's body refused him.
Hendry swallowed hard.
Then made his choice.
"I'll carry him."
Lyonel stepped forward, helping lift Hary carefully onto Hendry's back. Hary groaned, his arms wrapping weakly around his brother's neck.
"Hold on," Hendry murmured.
Lyonel sheathed Adder's Fang.
"Let's go."
They moved.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Every step was a struggle.
Hendry bore the weight of his brother, his breath growing heavier with each passing moment. Lyonel stayed close behind, watching their backs, listening for any sound of more enemies.
None came.
Only the echo of their movement through the mine.
They reached the first ladder.
"This will be tricky," Lyonel said.
Hendry nodded. "We go first."
Lyonel positioned himself below, bracing in case something went wrong.
Hendry climbed.
Slow.
But he made it.
Then the next ladder.
Again.
Slow.
Careful.
Every movement strained.
Finally—
The last ladder.
Almost out.
"Just a bit more," Hendry spoke through gritted teeth.
He climbed.
One rung.
Then another.
Hary shifted weakly on his back—
And then—
A slip.
"Hendry—!" Lyonel shouted.
Too late.
The wood creaked.
A foot lost its hold.
And both of them—
Fell.
They crashed down hard against the stone below with a sickening thud.
Hary cried out once—
Then went still.
Hendry didn't move.
Blood began to spread beneath Hary head.
Lyonel's heart stopped.
"Hendry…Hary...?"
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