IronbornMore Like This
Born of iron, forged to steel,
The lords of Pyke will never kneel.
We do not sow, we are not paying,
Only to the drowned one praying.
We send our longships to the fray,
Wearing nothing but the grey,
For all your gems, they make you soft,
Thinking that you are aloft.
But the iron killer's swords,
Our weathered seamen's hordes,
Are the bane for your high horse;
No arguing and no remorse.
And even if we fall on sea,
Even it's someday me,
We raise our spears into the sky,
For what is dead may never die.
Amber Pools - the whole storyMore Like This
Prelude: Dream of Me
I'm not sure how I ended up in front of the church, but at the moment it didn't seem to matter. I stood at the foot of the stone steps in a deep blue fitted gown. Blue? What happened to black? Well guessed I must not be there for a funeral... With blue flowers in my hair and a white rose in my hand, I wandered through the large wooden doors, hoping I looked like I belonged. I'm not sure why the sudden impulse to go there, I just knew that I had to.
No one seemed to notice me as I made my way through the church halls. I walked easily, letting my feet guide me as if I had been there many times before. I came to a chapel decorated with pink delicate roses. How nauseating. I slipped into the back pew and placed my rose beside me. Things were making little sense. I looked around me, not recognizing anyone. Why was I in a church at a wedding?