Invisible String - Cregan Stark

Eight~ Shadows

By the time I reached the battlements, snow was swirling through the air in soft, thin veils.

And there she was — Merrax — perched on the southern wall like some dread gargoyle from an old Valyria's ruins. Her massive black body curled atop the stones, her silver-blue wings half-tucked, her green eyes narrow with irritation.

When she saw me, she struck the ancient stone with her webbed tail once, a sound that echoed like thunder..

"I deserve that," I muttered, walking across the icy walkway with hurried steps.

The guards stood well back. I did not blame them.

Merrax loomed above, horned head tilting in that catlike way of hers. A low chuff escaped her nostrils — less anger than reproach.

"She's unsettled," said the captain, Wyllem. "We thought to fetch the lord, but—"

"No," I said gently. "Only me."

Her long neck lowered, and I reached out, gloved hand against warm scales. My brow met hers.

"I should have come," I whispered in High Valyrian.

A beat passed — then a low huff answered me, forgiveness exhaled in steam and smoke.

A smile faintly made its way to my face as I stroked the curve of her snout.

"Come down from there," I said, voice quiet. "We'll go."

Merrax moved with lazy grace, wings extending just slightly for balance as she climbed down from the wall and onto the outer grounds. Even in the snow, her scales shimmered like wet obsidian. She looked too large for the castle, too wild and ancient to be tethered by stone and walls.

And yet, she waited for me on the other side— patient and loyal.

I looked once toward the gate—open now, the path beyond leading into white silence—and stepped forward, my boots crunching softly in the frost.

I did not look back, but I felt him all the same.

The weight of Cregan's gaze pressed against me from somewhere behind. Quiet, steady, unrelenting. I knew without turning that he stood on the balcony, or somewhere near watching me as he always did when I left in the morning—like it bothered him to let me go out alone.

Within minutes, I was saddled on Merrax's back, hair braided quickly, cheeks stung by the cold as we rose above the towers.

Like the moon retreating from the sun, we vanished into the white sky.

-———————————————————————————

We soared over Winterfell, wings slicing through the gray sky, snowflakes bursting apart in our wake. Merrax didn't fly fast — not yet — but high and smooth, like a queen reclaiming her sky.

Below, the gate fell away behind us, and the castle shrank.

And I could breathe.

Just the cold, and the wind, and Merrax beneath me — alive, ancient, and wholly mine.

"I've missed this," I whispered into the wind.

And Merrax, as if in answer, let out a cry that echoed through the snowswept North.

The wind roared in my ears as she banked low over the trees, her wings slicing the air in elegant arcs. Snow burst around us like flung pearls.

The world below spun silver and white, the pines like daggers rising from the frost, rivers trapped mid-movement, and Winter Town a hush of chimney smoke and distant lives.