An ultra-fine sword plunged through my back. Although I felt the physical impact, there was no pain. Reaching around behind me, I seized the blade by the hilt and removed it. The girl who'd used the weapon seemed astonished, moving away and making no attempt to either retrieve the sword or make additional attacks.

"A fine thrust," I praised and tossed the sword to her. She caught it with practiced skill. "Unfortunately for you, I'm now beyond such things."

"You never wanted to speak with us," the Crow accused.

"No," I confirmed. "My King never had the intention of conquering the world either. Everything he and I have done was solely for the purpose of drawing out the three dragons so we might complete our great task."

"What exactly is your task?" the white-haired woman demanded.

"The Night King was created to save the world from the First Men," I explained. "That has not changed. The ritual required to accomplish this needs three dragons. You may come with me if you wish and see the great work unfold, or you may stay here. It matters not to me. I have what I came for."

Without another word, I turned and began walking east. The army of the dead followed with me, and the dragons took flight and sailed in lazy circles overhead.

It took time for the slow procession to reach the eastern coast. It was a longer journey than it would've been if we'd gone north-west to the Bay of Ice, but progress would've been reduced to a crawl through the mass of trees composing the Wolfswood. My forces stopped on a ridge overlooking the ocean. I could feel the magical power humming in the air around me.

The ranks of the dead moved aside to allow the humans to come forward. They living had followed with their armies, curiosity and self-preservation driving them to discover what I was doing and if they needed to try something to stop me. I took a quick look at the position of the human forces to be sure they wouldn't be in the way.

"Stay still unless you like dragon fire," I cautioned before closing my eyes and reaching out to the dragons with my mind.

As the dragons wheeled and soared around our location, they occasionally dived and breathed fire across the landscape, burning away snow and the frozen grass underneath to leave wide patches of scorch marks on the ground. The humans had no idea what the great beasts were doing, but I did. The patterns they were making were exceptionally precise; they had to be. If the ritual was done improperly, it would prove disastrous.

The three dragons made graceful curves as they burned in the last few lines, creating a spiral in toward the center where I stood. Just as I hadn't felt the cold when the Night King had turned me, I didn't feel the heat of the flames. I was just as immune to the fire as everything else.

With the sigil complete, I closed my glowing eyes and reached down with both hands, feeling for the magic around me. Taking hold, I slowly raised my hands overhead. There was some expected resistance, but I lifted against the unseen weight trying to drag my arms back down. Every moment increased the unpleasant sensation until I began to wonder if my arms would shear off at the shoulders.

Around the burned sigil in the ground, the world started to be affected as well. Winds swirled about the area, never crossing the magical lines of fire but forming a maelstrom that tore leaves and small branches from the trees and swept away the snow upon the ground. The sun slowly reversed its course, going the wrong way. It increased in speed, faster and faster, until the sun vanished over the eastern horizon only to reappear less than a few minutes later in the west and cross the sky in mere moments, looking more like a massive comet than the sun. Over the side of the cliff north of our position but well within sight, the waters retreated in haste, leaving the ocean floor bare.

The white-haired woman looked toward the Crow with wide eyes before turning to face the mountains. I didn't know why she seemed so surprised, but I couldn't allow myself to lose focus. Straining with all my might, I raised my hands the last of the distance and clapped them together over my head. The mountains exploded into fragments, being taken by the swirling winds and spinning around the eye of the maelstrom where we stood. The entire ritual spiral glowed the purest of whites before it began to fade.

As the winds died down, the fragments of the mountains fell back into place, slowly reforming until they built themselves up again as if nothing had happened. The sun began its proper directional course across the skies, the ocean waters returned and fell gently upon the sandy beaches at the base of the cliffs, and even the glowing sigil dimmed until it was lifeless scorch marks again. Truly, the only thing of apparent difference was a great mist surrounding the ritual circle, obscuring everything behind it.

"Is that it?" the Crow asked as if unimpressed.

"When my husband died," the white-haired woman began slowly. "I was told he would be as he had been before when the sun rose in the west and set in the east, when the seas went dry, and when the mountains blow in the wind like leaves."

"Really?" I asked. I pointed over her shoulder into the mist. "Then, I suppose you know who that is."

She whirled around as a large man stepped out of the mist. His beard and long hair were as dark as tar and his bare chest showed his muscular physique. Cradled in one arm was a newborn baby. She raced toward the man. He said something to her in a language I didn't recognize, and she replied in the same dialect while throwing her arms around him and kissing him passionately, taking care not to smother the child between them.

Out from the mist stepped more figures, followed at their heels by several direwolves. Breaking from the others, a direwolf charged the group of humans and nearly tackled the red-haired girl in an enthusiastic greeting.

"Lady!" the girl laughed in disbelief. The name caused the wolf to wag its tail even more.

"How did you do this?" the Crow asked.

"Magic flows," I explained. "In certain places where it is strongest, you can cause it to swirl, drawing in things from distant places, even from beyond life. This was the ritual performed in Valyria, but because they failed in their execution of it, the enchantment brought about doom rather than the intended revival."

The girl responsible for stabbing me in the back was staring unwaveringly toward the figures emerging from the mist. When she spoke, her words were a whisper, but they instantly gained the attention of everyone nearby. "Father?"

The man leading the newcomers had shoulder length coppery hair and a beard; he smiled at her and opened his arms wide. "Hello, my children."

The girl started to run to him when the Crow grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back. With his free hand he drew his sword and pointed it toward the newcomers from the mist before they could draw too near.