Chapter 7: 7
Kael sat cross-legged on a thick patch of moss near the mouth of the cave, Vale curled beside him, his warm breath puffing against Kael's side like a soft rhythm. The cold outside had dulled to a distant weight now that the cave was secured, a flickering fire throwing shadows across the uneven stone walls.
He stared into the flames, mind slowly unwinding from everything that had happened.
He was here. In Westeros.
He didn't know when exactly. That realization sent a slow ripple of unease through him.
Kael pulled his knees to his chest, letting out a breath. "Alright… so. I'm definitely in Westeros. The North, probably. The Weirwood Tree... Vale… The snow and the cold... This isn't some dream. This is real. But—when?"
His fingers tightened slightly around his knees.
He began thinking through what he knew from the series — the timeline, the wars, the White Walkers, Robert's Rebellion, the dragons. But no matter how much he replayed it in his head, he had no way of knowing for certain when exactly he'd landed. There were no indicators — no sigils, no news, no people. Just endless woods, snow, and silence.
And he was four. A four-year-old, alone in a dangerous world.
He exhaled again, slower this time.
He couldn't afford to panic. Panic wouldn't help him survive.
Kael looked over at Vale, who blinked at him sleepily.
"We'll figure it out," he whispered, brushing his fingers gently over the wolf's fur. "I'll figure it out. I don't know what the gods want from me — or the trees, or whatever brought me here — but if they gave me a second life, I'm not going to waste it."
The fire crackled beside him as he leaned back against the wall. His thoughts drifted back to that strange sensation when he touched the Weirwood Tree — the vision, the soaring view of the North, the feeling of being lifted out of himself.
"I need to train," he said quietly.
His voice echoed slightly off the cave walls.
He began to think aloud — the way he often did when left to his own devices on the farm. "Alright. I know skinchanging is possible. I've seen Bran do it — I mean, in the show. And I've already connected with Vale. That wasn't me — not just me. The Weirwood Trees helped. They opened the door."
He paused. "So… I need to learn how to keep that door open. Not just with Vale. I'll start with him — maybe learn how to feel what he's feeling even when he's far. Then… other animals."
Kael rubbed his arms. "Crows or hawks could help me scout. Rabbits might be easier to start with. I'll need to find one that lives nearby."
He tilted his head. "And dreams. I think it might happen again in dreams. Bran saw through time. Maybe I can… too?"
The ideas poured out faster now, not frantic but full of focused thought. This was something he could control. Something he could act on.
His green eyes flicked back to the fire. "Whatever time this is — I'll survive it. I'll make something of this life. Even if I have to do it alone."
He wrapped himself more tightly in his fur-lined cloak and laid down beside Vale, the wolf's quiet presence a comfort that words couldn't match.
Kael looked up at the stone ceiling, eyes heavy but mind alert. "I have a second chance. And I'm going to make it count."
With that, he let his eyes close, holding on to the warmth of the fire, and the silent vow that tomorrow, he would begin.