Echoes of Ice and Iron-Chapter 61: I Will Release It

Aya glanced at Seth, who had his eyes lowered.

"And my other choices?"

"You have two more paths," he answered. "Neither is merciful." Master Dino did not soften his voice.

Aya remained where she was, eyes fixed on Seth as if looking away might fracture something already strained too thin. "Say them."

"One," Dino said, "is to seal the power again."

Her breath caught - just slightly.

"Not as before," he continued. "You were younger then. The seal was laid quickly, and it held just right because you haven’t met this man, your guardian." He gestured to Seth. "To do it now will require deeper binding. Longer rites. Your body will remember what it was made to carry, and your power will resist being caged."

Aya’s fingers curled into the fabric at her side.

"It will hurt," Dino said, plainly. "More than it did the first time. And it will not pass quickly. The pain will linger. Weeks. Months or years, perhaps. And even sealed, the power will press."

The memory rose unbidden - cold stone slick with blood, the iron stench of it in the air, her own screams swallowed by the wind as the witches cut and bound and carved her name into fate. Elex’s hands on her shoulders, shaking. Master Dino’s voice, steady even then, telling her not to pull, not to answer her own power, not to reach back.

The mountains had not welcomed them.

Aya remembered the cold before she remembered the blood.

Not the clean cold of snow, but the kind that gnawed - wind scraping skin raw as the mountains narrowed into jagged teeth. The farthest north had no name on maps. Only warnings. Even the horses refused the final ascent, hooves skidding, breath screaming from their nostrils.

The air thinned until every breath burned, and the stone paths narrowed to little more than scars carved into ice. By the time they reached the last ridge, Aya’s hands were already numb, her pulse too loud in her ears.

Elex had dismounted first. "This is madness," he said quietly, sword still in hand as if steel could argue with the land itself.

Master Dino did not answer. His eyes were fixed ahead, on the stone circle half-buried in ice.

The Witches of Khar-Mireth where the land finally broke open—a natural hollow ringed with black stone, its center stained dark with old offerings that never quite washed away.

They were not robed. Not cloaked. They wore bone and sinew and red-stained linen that clung stiffly to their bodies. Their skin was carved - deliberately - old scars layered upon new, each cut a vow, each wound a prayer. The snow beneath their feet was dark, thawed by offerings made long before the last living Summoner had arrived.

Aya had been young then, a few months shy of the war. Still growing into her bones. Still believing pain could be endured if it had an end.

She was wrong.

"Ah, the Blood Summoner," one witch said, her voice thin as a blade. "Tell me, youngling, why have you come here?"

"I was told you could help seal my powers?"

"Yes, youngling," one of the witches answered. "Do tell me why. You’re the first to ever... ask for that."

"I refused to be a slave to it," Aya answered truthfully. "The war of our blood is over. There is no need for its use anymore."

The witch who spoke last stepped closer to her and stared into her eyes. At that moment, Aya found it hard to breathe, their closeness disturbing her more than it should.

But she did not back down either.

"Too young," the witch murmured, her voice like wet leaves dragged over bone.

"Too full," said another. "The blood does not sleep in her. It prowls. Too strong."

Aya tried to speak. Nothing came.

Elex stepped in front of her without thinking, sword half-drawn, body tense with a brother’s instinct.

"We were told you could help," Elex said.

A witch with braided white hair lifted her head slowly and looked at them. Her eyes were red-rimmed, unfocused, as though she looked inward more than out.

"Help?" she echoed. "There is no help for what she carries. Only containment. Only delay."

"Sheathe your sword, princeling," the witch in front of them said. "Your sword will not help you here."

Aya touched Elex’s arm and he moved to sheathe his sword.

"Very well, youngling," the witch in front of the siblings turned around and held out a hand towards the stone platform. "You may lie down there."

Aya looked to Elex. He shook his head once, jaw tight, helpless. Master Dino did not meet her eyes.

The witches helped lay her on the stone.

It was warm.

That should have frightened her more than the knives.

When the first cut came, it was shallow - across her palm. Blood spilled, steaming in the air. The witches murmured as if greeting an old friend. Symbols were carved into her skin next - collarbone, ribs, thighs - each line drawn to redirect, to bind, to bury.

The power fought.

Aya screamed when it tore through her chest, when her heart stuttered under the strain of being forced shut like a door barred from the outside. Veins blackened. Muscles locked. She felt something inside her snap, like bone - but deeper. Louder.

The witches pressed harder.

Blood filled her mouth. Her sight went white. Then red.

"Hold her," one commanded.

Elex did. He wept openly as her back arched, as something ancient and furious howled through her veins with no mouth to escape from.

The power recoiled, screaming, crushed inward until Aya felt hollowed out, emptied in a way that had nothing to do with blood loss.

When it was done, Aya could not see or move. There was only pain. And lots of it.

One of the witches wiped her blade clean.

"It will sleep," she said. "For a time."

Elex gathered Aya against him, shaking, whispering her name like a prayer torn apart by grief.

"How long?" he demanded hoarsely.

The witches did not answer him.

They were already watching the mountains again - as if waiting for the day Aya would return.

She did not sleep for three days afterward. Every breath burned. Every heartbeat reminded her of what had been taken and how violently it had been forced into silence.

And now-

She could already feel it, just thinking about it: the power coiling, remembering.

This time, it would not forgive her.

"This sealing, if I choose it," Aya said hoarsely, staring at nothing, "will be worse."

"Yes," Master Dino replied simply.

"It will last longer."

"Yes."

"I may not come back whole."

Master Dino finally looked at her then. His expression did not soften. That was worse than pity.

"No," he said. "You likely won’t."

Silence followed. Heavy. Expectant.

"And the other path?" Aya asked.

Master Dino exhaled slowly.

"You release it," he said. "Fully. Without chains. Without guidance."

"And?"

"And you let fate decide what survives."

Aya laughed once - sharp, humorless.

"The King," Master Dino continued carefully, "is a variable we do not yet understand. We don’t know what role he will play. We don’t know if he is a catalyst or a consequence."

He stepped closer, voice lower now. "But I don’t think uncertainty has ever stopped you."

The power stirred. Only this time, Aya did not push it down; she simply listened.

Aya did not look at Master Dino when she spoke.

"Will it help him?"

She lifted her hand and gestured towards Seth.

For the first time since entering the chamber, Master Dino hesitated.

"Who knows?" he said at last. "There are no texts or rites that will guide us here. No warnings written by survivors." His gaze settled on her fully now. "It is only you who would know."

Only you.

The words landed heavier than any decree she had ever issued.

Aya’s thoughts drifted again - not forward, but back.

To cold stone biting into her spine. To the mountains so far north, the sky felt closer than the earth. To witches with hollow eyes and red-stained hands. To Elex’s grief. To the moment she learned that pain could be shaped, and that survival did not mean mercy.

She had chosen the seal then because she was afraid. Afraid of what she was and of what she might take.

And still - despite the seal, despite the years of restraint - an actual Blood Guardian stood before her now, bound, hurting, loyal to a call she had never spoken aloud.

Unchecked, her power had reached out to him anyway.

Aya looked at Seth properly then. The way he held himself too still, as if motion might worsen whatever pulled at his blood. At the familiar steadiness in his eyes - the same steadiness that had followed her into danger without question.

"I will release it," she said softly.

Master Dino did not interrupt.

"I won’t bury it anymore and pretend that makes me safe." Her voice did not shake. "If its existence harms those bound to me, then sealing it only increases the damage since I cannot control it."

She turned to meet her teacher’s gaze head-on.

"I will release it."

The chamber seemed to draw a breath.

Seth stiffened - not from fear, but recognition.

Master Dino studied her for a long moment. Then, slowly, something like approval curved his mouth - not warmth, not pride, but respect for inevitability.

"Well," he said, dryly, "it’s a good thing I decided to bring my own army of maesters."

Aya blinked once.

"We’re going to need all the help we can get."

The brazier flared.

And somewhere deep within her - past seals, past scars, past restraint - something ancient stirred, like it was sending her notes of approval.

And Aya had finally stopped running from what she was.