Edward followed the trail deep into the forest, moving swiftly through the trees. He climbed with ease, leaping from one branch to another, his movements silent and precise. The cold night air brushed against his face as he covered a mile through the dense woods, his sharp eyes never losing sight of the faint tracks below.
At last, he reached the end of the trail. Hidden among the shadows, he peered down from his perch to find a group of men gathered around a roaring bonfire. They drank mead and tore into roasted meat, their voices loud with drunken laughter. The fire crackled, casting flickering shadows across the clearing, while the scent of charred flesh and ale hung thick in the air.
At the center of the group sat their leader—a broad-shouldered man with a thick beard and a jagged scar running down his cheek. In his hand, he held the strange artifact, lifting it so the firelight glinted off its smooth, otherworldly surface.
"Boys, once we sell this thing, we'll be living like kings. Some noble bastard in the city will pay a fortune for it. This strange jewel or whatever it is—I bet it's worth more than all our heads put together."
"Yeah? Then maybe we should keep it," one of the younger bandits piped up, a cocky grin on his face. "Who's to say we can't be kings ourselves?"
"Because, you idiot, we don't know what it does," another man snapped, shaking his head. "For all we know, it could be cursed. I say we get rid of it before it brings trouble."
The leader chuckled. "Superstitious fool. It's just a trinket. A very expensive one." He turned the artifact over in his hands, watching how the light shimmered strangely against its surface. "Besides, if it was dangerous, we'd already be dead, wouldn't we?"
"I don't know," muttered another. "Something about it makes my skin crawl."
"Bah, you all worry too much." The leader took a swig of mead, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Tomorrow, we ride for the city. We'll find a buyer, and then we'll never have to freeze our asses off in the wilds again."
"Assuming we don't get robbed first," one of the men grumbled. "We're not the only ones looking for treasure, you know."
"Who'd be stupid enough to try and rob us?" the leader scoffed. "We're the ones who do the robbing. No one's got the balls to cross us."
"Still," another added, shifting uneasily. "Something feels off tonight."
"Piss off with your bad omens," the leader said, rolling his eyes. "Drink up and enjoy the fire. We've got a long ride ahead of us."
Edward, hidden in the shadows above them, listened intently. This was what he came for—the Piece of Eden. Only he knew what it truly was. The artifact had transported him to this world, but these men had no idea what they possessed.
Without hesitation, he leaped down from the tree, landing softly on the snow behind them.
"That thing you're thinking of selling… it belongs to me," Edward said, his voice cutting through the night like a blade.
The men jumped, startled by his sudden appearance. The leader's smirk faded as he turned to face Edward. "Who the fuck are you?"
Edward remained relaxed. "Who I am is of no concern. What matters is that you hand over the thing. Now."
One of the men immediately grabbed his sword, but the leader raised a hand to stop him. "Hold on, lads. Let's hear what this bastard has to say."
Edward took a step closer, his gaze never leaving the leader's eyes. "I won't waste time explaining. Give me the thing, and I might let you walk away."
The men exchanged glances before bursting into laughter.
"Oh, that's rich!" one of them scoffed. "You think you can just walk in here and demand shit from us?"
Another wiped a tear from his eye. "What's next? You gonna tell us you're some kind of wizard?"
"I say we gut him and take whatever else he's got," a burly man with a missing tooth sneered. "He might have more valuables hidden under that fancy cloak."
The leader leaned back, taking another swig of his mead before grinning. "Nice try, but fuck you. We found it, it's ours. And you? You're just one man. You really think you can take all of us?"
Edward smirked. "I don't think. I know."
The leader let out a booming laugh, shaking his head before waving a hand. "Kill this fool."
Without hesitation, The first bandit lunged, his sword aimed for Edward's gut. Edward twisted, stepping into the attack, guiding the man's arm past him before slamming his hidden blade up through the bandit's chin. Blood sprayed onto the snow as the man collapsed.
"Shit! Kill this bastard!" another shouted.
Two more came at once. Edward sidestepped an axe swing and caught the wrist of the other attacker, twisting it violently. The bandit's sword fell from his grasp, and in a fluid motion, Edward spun him around, using him as a shield against the next strike. The axe buried itself into the man's back, and Edward wasted no time driving his hidden blade into the attacker's throat.
"Fuck!" one of the remaining men cursed, backing away.
A fourth man swung from behind, but Edward sensed it. He ducked, grabbed the attacker's arm, and flipped him onto his back. Before the bandit could recover, Edward drove his own dagger into his chest, twisting before yanking it free.
"No! Stay back!" The last of the leader's men panicked, turning to flee.
Edward sprinted forward and leaped onto his back, sinking his hidden blade into the base of the man's skull. He fell lifelessly into the snow.
Now, only the leader remained. He had backed toward the bonfire, face pale, hands trembling as he lifted the artifact. "H-Here! Take it! Just take the damn thing!"
Edward stepped forward, blood dripping from his blades. "Smart choice."
The leader tossed the artifact toward him. Edward caught it, feeling the strange warmth radiating from within. He met the terrified man's gaze, contemplating.
"Y-You got what you came for! Just let me go!"
Edward sheathed his blade and turned. "You're not worth it."
Relief flooded the leader's face as he exhaled shakily.
Then, with a flick of his wrist, Edward activated the hidden mechanism in his bracer. A small dart hissed through the air, embedding itself in the man's throat. He gasped, clutching at his neck as he collapsed, choking on his own blood. Edward watched the life drain from his eyes, his expression unchanging.
His fingers trembled slightly as he reached into his coat and pulled out the Eye of Eternity. The crystalline sphere, veined with gold, shimmered under the flickering torches. He exhaled sharply, whispering a silent prayer before opening it.
Nothing happened.
His pulse quickened. Not again. The damn thing had failed him before. His jaw tightened as he willed it to work.
Then—a faint glow pulsed from within. Weak, but growing. Edward barely had time to react before the world around him warped, colors bleeding together like wet paint. A low, ancient hum filled his ears. And then—
A figure materialized before him, flickering like a broken projection. A woman, draped in ethereal robes, her striking features achingly familiar. A memory stirred—he had met her before, during his pursuit of Lucius. One of the Isu, the ancient ones who had shaped the course of humanity.
"Edward!" Her voice crackled with static, her form glitching. "You finally reached me."
His eyes narrowed. "You. Aelana, wasn't it?"
"There's no time," she said urgently. "I don't have long. The artifact is broken. When you attacked Lucius as he opened the portal, the Eye lost most of its energy. The disruption altered its function."
Edward's stomach tightened. "Altered how?"
"The Eye was meant to navigate timelines. Now, it shifts you between worlds."
His fingers curled into a fist. "Then tell me how to fix it."
"The Eye requires an immense amount of energy to function properly," Aelana said, her voice growing fainter. "You must find a way to restore its power before you can return."
Edward stepped forward, mind racing. "How much energy?"
Aelana's form wavered violently. "More than you can gather alone. Seek out—"
Her voice broke into static, the hum turning discordant. Edward gritted his teeth. "Damn it, don't fade on me! Seek out what?"
Her expression softened, regret flickering in her eyes. "You must—" The rest of her sentence dissolved into an unintelligible buzz. The glow surrounding him flickered and then—
Darkness. Silence.
The world snapped back into place. The campfire still burned, the corpses lay where he had left them. The only change was the cold emptiness in his grip. The Eye, now lifeless.
Edward clenched his jaw, frustration tightening his chest. He had so many questions left unanswered. Who was he supposed to seek? What kind of energy did the Eye need? Where could he even begin?
He exhaled sharply. "If I can't get answers from you, I'll find them myself."
The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of burning wood and blood. Edward turned his gaze toward the darkened horizon. Somewhere out there lay his next step—an answer, a clue, anything.
"I hope you're right, Aelana," he murmured. "Because I don't plan on being trapped here forever."
With a final glance at the artifact, Edward tucked it into his coat and strode toward Winterfell, his mind already working through his next move. The weight of the object pressed against his chest—a silent reminder of what he had just risked to obtain it.
By the time the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, he reached the towering walls of Winterfell. He didn't hesitate. Gripping the rough stone, he began his ascent, moving swiftly and precisely. His fingers found purchase in the smallest crevices, his boots pressing against the cold surface as he climbed.
Reaching the top, he crouched low, scanning the castle grounds. The courtyard was quiet, the guards still lost in the drowsy lull before the changing of the watch. With practiced ease, he vaulted onto the nearest rooftop, moving across Winterfell with fluid, controlled motions. He leaped, rolled, and swung from ledges, his breath steady despite the exertion. Each movement was precise, calculated.
Finally, he reached the window of his chambers. Hanging from the ledge, he carefully pried it open before slipping inside.
His coat hit the floor as he tossed it aside. Without missing a beat, he moved to his bed, slipping under the covers and arranging himself as if he had never left. His heart pounded from the adrenaline, but he forced himself to breathe evenly.
He had barely settled when the door creaked open.
Once inside, Edward swiftly removed his coat and tossed it aside before slipping into bed, arranging himself as though he had never left. His heart had barely settled when the door creaked open.
Maester Luwin stepped inside, his sharp eyes scanning the room before resting on him. "Where were you?" His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. "You were not here just moments ago."
Edward didn't flinch. "I went to pee," he replied smoothly, propping himself up on one elbow.
Luwin studied him for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, with a small nod, he stepped forward and began his examination. His hands were firm yet practiced as he pressed along Edward's side, where a deep wound had once been.
The maester stilled. His fingers traced over the unblemished skin. "This is... remarkable," he muttered, his brows knitting together. "There isn't even a scar."
Edward merely shrugged. "Guess I have good blood."
Luwin's skeptical gaze snapped up. "Good blood?" he echoed. "Edward, men with injuries like yours don't walk within days. They certainly don't disappear in the middle of the night."
Edward held his gaze evenly. "Maybe the gods favor me," he said, voice casual.
Luwin exhaled sharply, clearly unsatisfied. "This is not normal," he muttered, more to himself than to Edward. But after a pause, he let the matter rest. "Very well."
He stepped back, smoothing his robes. "Lord Eddard wishes for you to join him at the table. Do not keep him waiting."
Edward nodded, watching as Luwin turned toward the door. The maester hesitated before adding, "And Edward—secrets have a way of revealing themselves. Be careful."
With that, he exited, leaving Edward alone. Edward exhaled slowly, then swung his legs over the bed. If Ned Stark wanted to see him, it meant something important was unfolding.