Glass rained like snow over the entire Sept, the dome was broken and suddenly Arya could breathe again, had she been struggling to breathe? People screamed and tried to shield their eyes, their faces, Arya's own eyes were closed, despite the other dangers, her left arm shielding her face, but the glass never touched her. As she opened her eyes the blood smeared sleeve of her gown seemed for a moment to be replaced by the yellow and black dragon armour, then the illusion was gone. As she looked up she saw the shattered glass hanging suspended in mid-air, Jon and Gendry were trapped above on their dragons, unable to descend because of the glass. Derren and Galen were with Gendry, Raymont and Lyra Mormont were with Jon, three people was about the limit that each dragon could carry.
The shards of glass didn't make any sense; they hovered in the air, reflecting the light in every direction, but what was keeping them there? It reminded Arya of the Hall of Lamps, but there were no chains to suspend the glass here. The screams had stopped, everybody had grown silent, even the attacking Sparrows. Somewhere in the distance, far beyond the walls of the Sept, Arya could make out the high pitched 'kleeing' of a small bird, maybe a falcon?
A moment later a Sparrow near the Isle of the Crone loudly declared "The Seven are protecting us!" and the Sparrow closest to her swung his cudgel in her direction.
Arya's Maiden shadow wacked the weapon away with her stick, her Smith shadow striking the man down with her hammer. "Use your eyes, Sparrows." She yelled as her King shadow took out two attackers with one swing of the shadow of Ice. "The Seven have chosen a side, and it is not yours, surrender now, or submit yourselves to the Stranger."
She took her measure of the room as she tried desperately to formulate a plan. People were injured, some were dead or dying. Uncle Edmure had gotten many of them near the Door of the Smith, only to have to back away again. There had to be a secret way into the Hall of Lamps, the Door of the Smith was the only one that promised a direct route out, but they could not get through. They could try other ways, but how many more would be killed or injured? Talla (Uncle Edmure's wife, Samwell's sister) clung desperately to Shella Whent's arm as the Sparrows pushed them back towards the centre of the room. Talla was shaking, tears streaking down her face, but Old Shella Whent was calm. As they were driven further down the Isle of the Smith Shella pulled Talla towards the back of the group, Ser Hugo Vance staying close to them. Hugo was armed with two long silver candle holders.
Tommen and Ser Balon Swann were amongst the numbers protecting Myrcella, Trystane, and Doran Martell. They were in the Isle of the Father, and were also being driven towards the centre of the Sept. Tommen was bleeding badly, his right arm looked crippled, but he gripped a short spear in his left hand determinedly. Gods only knew where he had gotten that from? Dickon Tarly was amongst the number attempting to protect Mace Tyrell in the Isle of the Mother, he was bloodied, but determined, and had gotten his hand on one of the Sparrow's weapons. Surprisingly so had Wylla Manderly, her hair was a mess, some of the chains of pearls that bound her braid had been broken, the green dyed strands escaping wildly. Her dress was bloody and ripped. Her eyes were wild, but the wide stance of her feat, and the way she gripped the weapon, showed she had at least a basic idea of how to fight. Her fingers flexed around her weapon expectantly, her fingernails looked stronger and sharper than Arya remembered and there was something strange about the way she was holding her mouth.
Arya's attention was drawn to the Isle of the Crone next, the blond woman with the Frey's had pulled Walda back behind the protection of the Frey men, and Tyrion had somehow scurried into the group as well. The woman rested a protective hand on Tyrion's shoulder in a familiar manner. They were also being driven to the seven pointed star in the centre of the building. In the Isle of the Stranger the Ironborn had more than their share of enemies, they had held them off to aid Renly, Gendry, and Jon's escape. Asha was grinning and Theon was grim-faced, but determined, there was something wrong about his eyes, and there was a dark blueish-black drop of some liquid in his close trimmed beard. Later, it would have to wait till later. The Goodbrother triplets were all turned so that Arya could not see their faces. Sandor was circling the fourth ring, hunting, the Sparrows were running from him, not after him, but they weren't running fast enough, whenever Sandor saw a better weapon he claimed it. Arya's Crone shadow cracked a Sparrow across the temple with her cane so hard his head split open, revealing his brains, he fell to the floor clutching his head and screaming in pain, the splash of blood washing over Arya's dress. Beyond the Sept a dog growled and a bird 'kleed' again, but Arya still didn't have a plan. The unnaturally suspended glass above her made her uneasy. The Sparrows were trying to drive her back to the centre of the Sept, between the seven statues, why? What did they know that Arya didn't? Wait, the seven pointed star… suddenly Arya wanted to be right in the centre of the Sept, right in the centre of its power…
Arya raised her crystal spear like a staff to block a blow, the illusion of her armour overlaying the sleeve of her dress again for the briefest moment, and the direwolf that had grown from the babe held by her Mother shadow devoured the man, the taste of blood on her lips. Look with your eyes, hear with your ears, taste with your mouth, smell with your nose, feel with your skin… Her skin tingled with power, as if tiny bolts of lightning were arcing across her skin, her nose smelt blood, her mouth tasted it, her ears heard many things… The shards of glass, the Hall of Lamps, they were connected somehow… the illusion of her black and yellow dragon armour shimmered over her arms again, but the armour was sitting on an armour stand in her quarters, deep within Meador's Holdfast… was it possible? Suddenly she wanted her armour here, on her, she wanted to be wearing her own clothes, not the ones that other's chose for her. She wanted her sword, Rhosyn Melyn, and her Valyrian dagger.
Now was not the time to please Renly, now was the time to be true to herself. A direwolf growled, a kestrel screamed it's warning. Klee, kleeeee, kleeeeeeee! A black cat lay broken and bleeding in a stone hallway and a little girl that had never been permitted to grow up cried. "It's happening again."
A sudden sense of urgency overwhelmed Arya and she took off towards the seven pointed star at a run, her shadows did not surround her completely and a Sparrow got a lucky blow on the upper part of her right arm, ripping the dress and drawing blood, the Stranger turned and cut him down with her Scythe. A few shards of glass trembled and dropped about a foot as Arya's blood splashed on the white marble. Arya skidded to a halt in the middle of the seven pointed star, her black silk slippers squelching with blood, her dress ripped and bloody, and her lungs screaming for breath. her seven shadows took up the seven points, the giant direwolf shrinking as the Mother grew back out of it, until it was the shadow of a woman holding a new-born babe. Seven Arya's, seven aspects, and the physical one in the centre, but she still didn't know what she needed to do.
Seven plus one is eight, but that was wrong, the Stark number was nine. Arya looked at the Father Shadow in front of her, the nine points of his crown, and realise that she needed another Arya, no, she needed Nymeria! She reached out her mind to the pack and Nymeria responded, but it was not the smells of peat and moss that greeted Arya's senses, it was the dirt of the Kings road! The pack was running south! It took but a thought to know that Nymeria had been moving them south for days, sticking to the forests where they could, but that they had abandoned the trees when the connection between Arya and Nymeria had been blocked. Arya blinked, and the shadow of Nymeria was in front of her, facing her, a moment later the shadow began to shift, taking the form of her older self.
Arya extended the crystal spear in front of herself, so that one point was in the exact middle of the star, the exact middle of the Sept. Nymeria/Arya locked eyes with Arya and took a step forward, wrapping her hands around the spear just above Arya's, as one they lifted the spear and slammed it into the floor. The sound of dozens of chains snapping could be heard from the direction of the Hall of Lamps, the balls of leaded glass crashing down onto the Sparrows within. As the trapped Sparrow's screams filled the air they lifted the spear and smashed it into the floor a second time. for an instant Arya's dress seemed to be replaced by her armour, she even imagined she felt the weight of her blades on her belt, but then the sensation was gone. The seven shadows exploded outwards down the seven eyes, killing the Sparrows in their path, but leaving the nobles unharmed. The glass above trembled and seemed to drop another foot, but did not fall. The enemy was gone, for now, but the Hall of Lamps was blocked with bodies, and they were still trapped, for now. The Nymeria/Arya shadow changed back into a direwolf and leapt into Arya, disappearing. Through Nymeria's eyes Arya could see that King's Landing was coming into sight, the pack was close!
Arya looked around herself in shock, not sure what to do next. A movement drew her attention to the Isle of the Stranger just in time to see Theon pull a small glass vile away from his lips. The vile was about half full, the condense an inky blue. Theon looked at her with slightly unfocused eyes, his pupils large. "Nine is the Stark number," He said softy. "I'll be your eighth, but you need seven more." He turned to his sister. "Asha, will you be her Stranger."
"Yes, brother." Asha gave Theon a concerned look and touched his shoulder gently before stepping onto the point of the star that represented the Stranger.
Everybody that was still alive was looking at Arya now, people started to murmur about the insanity of it all. Through the murmurs Allyria and Darrion Dondarrion stepped forward, Ally resting her hand on her pregnant stomach. "I'll be the Mother." Ally proclaimed as she stepped onto the correlating point of the star.
"And I the Father." Darrion declared.
"I.." Arya stuttered. "I don't know what I'm doing, what if I hurt the child?"
"You want." Ally replied calmly. "I have complete faith in you."
"I think I'm the oldest Crone here." Shella Whent declared, stepping onto the point of the Crone.
"Your mother would never forgive me if I let somebody else be your Warrior." Hugo Vance added, stepping onto the Warrior's point.
"This is sacrilege! Utter sacrilege!" Archmaester Pycelle exclaimed. "Why in all my years-"
"Oh shut up, you old fart." Wylla Manderly snapped, she flicked a loose lock of green hair over her shoulder and stepped onto the point of the Maiden, winking at Arya. "Now all we need is a Smith."
Arya glanced upwards, the floating shards of glass blocking her from Gendry, her Smith was out of reach. Many others looked upwards as well, and the room quickly became silent. Suddenly Tyrion cleared his throat. "I… may not be a Smith…" He took a couple of careful steps forward. "But… the Smith must have made me the way I am for a reason…"
"Tyrion…" The blonde woman with the Frey's said softly.
"It's alright, Aunt Genna, perhaps a poorly smithed thing is what is needed." He stepped forward with more confidence, but Tommen bared his path. "Tommen…"
"Uncle." Tommen replied, pushing his spear into Tyrion's hand.
Tyrion's expression softened and he touched Tommen's shoulder gently. "Thank you."
The exchange was so touching that Arya almost missed Oberyn slipping a dagger into Ally's hand before stepping backwards. Once everybody was in place Theon stepped into the star, facing Arya, he clasped the crystal spear between them, putting his left hand below her right one and his right hand above her left one. They lifted the spear as one, the illusion of Arya's armour over her arms seeming even more real, and slammed it into the centre of the star together. As the spear smashed into the floor for the third time a number of things happened all at once: The spear shattered and disappeared; Seven bursts of light exploded down the seven isles, harming nobody, but blowing the seven doors off of their hinges and smashing the seven walls until there were seven clear exits from the building; The armour became solid and real around Arya, the dress gone; the tiles of the seven pointed star separated from the rest of the floor, sending them falling three floors below, into the belly of the old Sept beneath; The glass came down, filling the cavity behind them and reforming as a solid block of glass. The impact of the fall knocking Arya from her feet, despite bending her knees, her body screaming in pain as she hit the ground hard.
~~/~~