The Empty Side
|Game of Thrones "Battle of the Bastards"|
A bit a fun with the Gastar characters at the Game of Thrones’ Battle of the Bastards
“They have to get the kid out of there, before she does something terrible.” Zermon shoved a brunette young man to his knees facing a tree with red leaves that appeared to be watching them.
“Please. Kill me and spare my brother.” Jon Snow looked toward his home of Winterfell as the Bolton troops headed toward his army. “They will know I’m gone. What will happen then?”
“No they won’t.” Zermon sat beside him. “You will ride headlong into that army alone like a fool, to save your brother. So that’s where we will save him and Sweetheart will do her thing to the Bastard’s army. Then he’s yours to play with as you like.”
Shevata stood near the back of Winterfell watching the army line up. “You must be ready, Michaelous.”
A silver haired teenage boy glared at her with sparkling blue eyes. “Shevata your place is with us, not that demon.”
“I know my place better than anyone divine like yourself, evil like Zermon, or a good man like Jon. I belong here, in the empty side.”
A man about the age of Jon led a young boy out on a rope. As they passed them, Shevata nudged Michaelous. “Now!” A silver arrow hit the boy, he stumbled, then Michaelous reeled back in the the arrow with a silver rope. Shevata watched. “So he will be happy in the Heavens?”
“Yes, he will. now that I have his soul, he will remember none of this horror. And so should you, if you stop this ridiculous existence with that monster Zermon and come with me now.” He gestured toward Zermon. Shevata shook her head. “Leave us now. Thank you.” He nodded and disappeared in a wisp of silver mist.
Jon watched. “What was that?”
“One of the nice guys of the afterlife.” Zermon yawned. “Shevata wanted to make sure your brother went to the right place after she found out you were murdered.”
“I didn’t see anything when I died. Why?”
Zermon shrugged. In his human form, he looked about eighteen, with shoulder length black hair and blue eyes, dressed in black. “The red woman can raise life, but doesn’t understand souls go with life. For whatever reason, your soul remained here. At least that’s what Shevata told me.”
Shevata stood alone watching the army march away. “What’s she going to do?” Jon tried to get up, but Zermon pushed him back down.
“Shevata is about to open up power of her god.” She spoke a word. A boom shook the ground for a moment, then a wind rushed through the army, turning to dust the youngest soldiers, breaking the legs of the largest, most experienced, until it reached the bastard, left untouched. She turned and joined Zermon and Jon at the tree.
Jon stood up. “What kind of god would do that?”
“The kind of god that stole my soul.” Shevata looked at the dust where men once stood. “The kind of god that destroys life, hope, and love. All he leaves is the empty side.”
Zermon rose to his feet. “We must be going. Lord Snow, you have two battles now; our battle and your battle. Now you can choose, which to go through with.”
Shevata gave him a coin. “Drop it to the ground at random if you’re indecisive. Or place it on the ground with the crown up for your battle before we arrived.”
“And my brother?” Jon squeezed the coin.
Shevata smiled. “He will never see the empty side.”