The Necromancer King (A Game Of Thrones)

The Art Of Necromancy

After cutting through his second wight, Aerion continued forward at an average pace to conserve his energy. He did not know how many of them resided within the castle's walls but he doubted that it was only two. There were bound to be many more... otherwise, it would not be much of a challenge. As Aerion started to explore the castle, he wondered who that being earlier was. The being who had supposedly blessed him and prepared this trial certainly had some mystical abilities.

Is he... God?

The thought did cross his mind and it would have explained quite a lot. Being blessed by God was certainly amusing... considering his circumstances. One would expect a near-perfect life if they were truly blessed and Aerion's life was far from perfect, to say the least.

Perhaps this God pities me.

Aerion opened the doors to a window-less room and was warmly welcomed by an ear-piercing scream from a female wight. He closed the door shut and backed away before she could touch him.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

"Nevermind being blessed, I am cursed..."

Aerion moved to the side of the door and watched as it was barged open. Then, without hesitating for a single moment, he stabbed his sword into the screaming wight. Her screams were louder once she caught on fire... but those loud screams were followed by eternal silence.

Except for Aerion's flaming sword, of course.

Then the silence was broken by an ever-growing number of strange noises.

"REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

(Current objective: Survive.)

Aerion realised that this tight corridor with two different sides was not going to help him much against multiple wights, especially if they attacked him from the back. Standing around and waiting for them to get to him was not a wise idea... instead, he looked for a way out or, at the very least, a more advantageous place.

Unfortunately, there was no way out and every corridor was much of the same.

"REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-"

SLASH.

Aerion cut through another wight, his fourth, and continued to hastily explore the rest of the castle. With every turn came the disappointment of not finding any sort of exit into the exterior of the castle. In turn, he decided to seek out the remaining wights and cut them down one by one.

Fortunately for him, the wights were disorganised and scattered across the maze-like castle. As long as he confronted them first, one by one, it was unlikely that he would fail this challenge. However, if he waited for them to gather towards him, then that would truly be a troublesome ordeal.

With his flaming sword in hand, Aerion went on a wight-slaying rampage. Every time he saw one of those emerald-eyed, moaning and slow bastards, he would swiftly add to the number of wights he burned that day. Once he killed his thirtieth wight, the castle finally changed.

Aerion leaned against the wall, resting from his previous encounters. His breathing was more erratic than usual due to the physical exhaustion from slaying thirty wights. As he regained his breath, his eyes scanned across the similar castle, stopping at the only change he could notice.

The rather plain wall from before was now replaced with an extraordinary small black-emerald gate. There were countless strange emerald markings inscribed onto the gate, all of which Aerion had no understanding of.

Aerion looked at the round handle that was attached to the gate. He keenly listened for a few seconds just in case there was another wight around. After not hearing another set of footsteps, he decided to proceed further. There did not seem to be another way forward, after all.