Chapter 20 - Relocation
Leaf and the other children of the forest stood quiet after Brynden Rivers breathed his last. None of them wailed or cried. Their shoulders dipped and in eyes dimmed. They mourned him as a friend and someone they had once trusted, even if he had lost his way and now found peace at last.
After a few moments of mourning Leaf wiped her eyes with the back of her small hand. Everyone was looking at me to guide them forward.
"We should speak of what comes next," she said gently.
"First thing is that none of you will stay here. The dead can come at any time. This cave is not safe. Pack up whatever you have. We will leave soon."
Leaf accepted this without argument. She turned to her people and told them to gather their belongings. The children of the forest did not carry much. A few small pouches of herbs, dried roots, seeds, and some carved tools. They had no heavy supplies. They had lived like this for thousands of years.
As they prepared, Val touched my arm. "What of Brynden's body? Shall we burn him here? I can get some wood for a fire. After all, we cannot leave him for the dead."
"Not here," I said. "We will take him somewhere else."
Val did not question further. She simply nodded and stood next to me.
Soon, all the children were ready. I asked them to stand close and hold each other's hands. They hesitated but obeyed. Leaf held my left hand. On my right side, Val took my hand firmly. Her other hand joined with the children beside her. In a moment, a full circle formed.
"Close your eyes," I said.
They closed them.
The cave vanished.
A blink later, cold air brushed their faces. Wind moved around us. I said, "You can open your eyes now."
As they opened them slowly, they found themselves in open air in a small forest. They were standing near a large Weirwood tree which had faces carved in its trunk.
Leaf stepped forward after looking around, her voice trembling. "This… this is Winterfell," she whispered.
We were standing in the godswood of Winterfell. The place looked peaceful in the early dawn light. The red leaves of the heart tree moved like a slow fire. The face carved in the white trunk watched everything with its deep red eyes. A small pool reflected the branches above, still and quiet. Tall walls of Winterfell stood beyond the trees, grey and strong, older than many kingdoms.
The children of the forest froze in awe. Some gasped quietly. They had not stood here for thousands of years.
"Yes," I said. "Seat of the ancient Kings of Winter. This Godswood was part of your pact which was made between the first men, your people, the giants, and the land itself."
Leaf remembered that pact well. But she was still shocked. I could see it in her eyes. We had travelled from far beyond the true north to the heart of Winterfell in a single breath. Even she, who had lived for thousands of years, had never seen such magic.
Val was the most stunned of all. She walked in circles, looking around, her jaw almost dropping. "You are not joking?" she asked me, punching my arm lightly. "This truly is Winterfell?"
"Look there." I pointed at the tall stone towers rising above the trees. "That is the castle of the Starks."
Val finally believed. She stared at it with wide eyes. "No castles exist in the true north," she whispered. "So this is real."
The children took in their new surroundings. Some touched the grass. Others breathed in the clean air. They were nervous, but also relieved. It was safe here. It felt safe.
"Settle yourselves," I told them. "Acclimatize to the place. Make yourselves comfortable. I will take care of Brynden's body."
Leaf nodded. Val looked anxious but trusted me enough to stay.
With a breath, I returned to the cave. Brynden's corpse lay still beneath the roots. I placed his body inside my storage. It was something I would not show publicly yet. That ability was too valuable as a trump card. Teleportation was already more than enough for people to handle.
A blink later, I was back in the godswood.
Val stood near Leaf, watching the trees. The children of the forest looked calmer now.
"I will go call Lord Stark," I told Val.
She nodded and stayed with the children.
I walked out of the godswood and toward the castle gates. The moment I stepped out from the trees, a group of Winterfell guards spotted me. They drew their weapons at once. A stranger walking out of the godswood was never normal.
"Stop there!" one shouted.
I raised my hands. "Go tell Lord Ned that Manny is here."
The guards hesitated. One said, "Lord Ned does not meet every stranger who wanders out of the trees."
"I am not a stranger," I replied. "I was here a few days ago. When the lords held the victory feast."
Recognition flickered in their eyes. They remembered hearing about the night when the strange visitor who had walked out of the dark and spoken boldly. And they remembered what happened afterward. The North had changed since then. My name had weight now, whether I liked it or not.
One guard lowered his spear slightly. "Wait here," he said. "I will inform Lord Stark."
He ran toward the castle.
I stood still among the snow-covered stones, waiting.
Lord Stark arrived some time later, quick enough that I knew half the castle must have felt the shift in the godswood. He stepped out from the stone archway with Ser Rodrik Cassel behind him. Both stopped when they saw me. Ned's face eased with surprise.
"Manny," he said, lowering his voice as he came closer. "I did not expect you to be here. I thought you would be going farther north."
I bowed my head politely. "Greetings Lord Stark. Yes… I was in the north. But in the deep North, I met some people who needed to be rescued. So I brought them here first."
Ned frowned, confused. "People who needed to be rescued? And you brought them here? Before the Wall? Before anywhere else? Manny… how did you even get here?"
"I will tell you later," I answered, because now was not the time. "First, come inside."
Lord Stark and Ser Rodrik followed me through the godswood path. As the branches shifted aside and the clearing opened, both of them froze. The sight before them was something no living man south of the Wall had seen for thousands of years.
Dozens of Children of the Forest stood in silent rows, brown-skinned, leaf-haired, sharp-eyed, small as children but old as the roots around them. Their wooden armor clicked softly, carved with ancient runes. Leaf herself stood at the front, hands folded, eyes bright with wariness.
Ned Stark stopped breathing for a heartbeat.
"By the old gods," he whispered.
Ser Rodrik almost drew his sword, stepping in front of Ned as if he could protect his lord from a story out of an old tale. His hand trembled on the hilt.
I raised my hand to calm him. "Lord Stark, these people needed to be rescued. So I brought them here."
Ned looked at the Children. Then at me. Then again at them, as if his eyes were lying to him.
"Are they…" He could not finish.
"Yes," I answered gently. "They are the Children of the Forest."
End of Chapter 20 - Relocation