The sun emerged in the skies; cloudless and warm, with a hint that today was the day that the student's magic will be put to the test. The students came out from their class with their teacher outside to an emerald grass plain to try and summon their very own familiars, and a little girl was among the class, nervous but excited that this time the spell might work.

Louise Francoise was a young woman of miniature size, strawberry-pink hair stirring in the wind, eyes that glittered under the sun and a very smooth complexion that made her look younger than her age of seventeen. There was a delightful cast in her amber eyes today; she was extremely determined to succeed in her goal.

Louise, whose family had created many powerful and famous mages for decades, there was nothing more nervous than the situation that is occurring. Every single spell she had ever cast in her life had always ended up in a devastating explosion that ends up almost getting people getting hurt or killed. Even though it showed she did indeed have magical powers within her, she was far from becoming a mage. She still has to get used to the basics before she was ready.

The young girl did not share in the enthusiasm her fellow second-year classmates radiated today as they conversed about what kind of magnificent or amazing familiars they would summon. She was more worried about the prospect of her coming failure; her head was thumping with thoughts of the consequences of failing this sacred ritual and the image of her very angry mother filled her with perpetual dread. She was so deep in thought; she was trailing behind the group at a much slower pace.

She had done extensive research on the Springtime Familiar Summoning for nearly an entire week and so knew the theories inside-out: the best magic circle was a simple one with just the pentagram - as any other additional runes could skew the calculations, the magic was mostly performed by the magic circle itself and the caster only needed to feed it Willpower, the ritual would look for the best fit familiar that greatly represented the potential or need for their master, and so forth. Louise Francoise could easily recall any of this information at a moment's notice.

But, despite all her preparation, that did not necessarily mean that she was ready for it at all. She made a fake smug and waved her cloak behind her when it got in her way.

"Ah, here we are," Jean Colbert, a middle-aged balding man that wore glasses and an ornate robe, said as he turned around to face his following students with a smile that was clearly faked, "Everybody knows what to do, correct?" They nodded. "Then the best of luck to all of you! Now then, Class, who would like to go first?"

Louise Francoise watched with growing nervousness, and a tinge of envy in the other students, as the number of waiting students dwindled and the number of master and familiar pairs increased. They all had something in common: they all had more successful magical powers. A majority of her classmates had called forth regular animals, such as cats, dogs, birds, or snakes, but a couple of them had summoned some more intriguing creatures - of particular note, Kirche went and had summoned a fire-attribute salamander and Tabitha, the academy's top student, had summoned a wind-attribute dragon that stunned everyone with envy.

Even though she was not competing with Tabitha, Louise Francoise couldn't help but panic. She was under no delusion that she was going to summon anything as impressive as a dragon, manticore, or griffon; she was well aware that she would be extremely lucky to be able to summon anything at all.

"Has everybody summoned their familiar?" Jean hummed some more as he rechecked the list.

The Valliere squeaked like a mouse as she was suddenly pushed forward by a fellow student, "Not everybody, sir. Louise hasn't taken her turn yet," and shrunk as she became the center of attention.

"Ah, Miss Valliere, please start whenever you're ready," the teacher casually urged.

Louise Francoise nervously trotted towards a dry plot of grass before she knelt down and carved a magic circle into the ground with her brown wand. She worked slowly and majestically as the reality of her situation sunk in deeper: it was her turn to summon a familiar and failure was not an option this day. She wanted to avoid punishment from her mother and beat the smug look off her rival... but what she needed was proof that she was indeed a mage and not some child wanting to play wizard. If she could not summon a familiar then she had no right to call herself a noble.

The results of this day would determine the course of the rest of her life and that utterly frightened her. She had little confidence in her success; she will be ashamed for the rest of her life if she messed up her summoning. And the thought that she would be regarded as the worst member of the Valliere dynasty to have ever lived, and her only chance of redemption was to marry someone of higher status, so this is her last and only chance to summon something worthwhile to stick it in her rival's face one and for all.

"Miss Valliere, are you ready?" The voice of her teacher brought her back into the present.

"Y-Yes, Professor Colbert, I'm ready," she replied. The balding man merely nodded in affirmation, despite him getting closer to the students, clearly trying to step away to save himself from being caught in another of Louise's many failures.

The strawberry-haired girl made one last check on her magic circle, 'Perfect,' she told herself, 'It's definitely perfect,' and then she stood up. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to relax her body and calm her nerves as she spread open her arms and waved her wand. She recited her self-created magic-verse in her head several times whilst she cleared her throat and licked her lips, ready to bring forth her first and only familiar.

The girl mustered every single courage, confidence, and willpower that she had and chanted as clearly as possible, trying her best to not do anything to mess up her chance.

"Please, my servant that is somewhere in this world... The sacred, beautiful, and, above-all-else, powerful familiar... I ask of you: hear and answer my call!"

The air stilled for a moment. Then - without warning - suddenly exploded in a loud roar twice and veiled the field in smoke and dust. Even the students who were standing far back were touched and buffeted by the furious winds and rumbling earth; Louise Francoise herself - being closer to the center- felt the very ground squirm as she fell flat on her bottom.

The climate of the North didn't change at all, foggy and cold, but with a new sudden heat to it, that showed the signs of battle that had raged outside of Winterfell. The battle was in the rulers of the mighty capital of Winterfell's favor. The king of the other army was strewed all over the forest from the fields, with their flaming stag being torn down. A single fearless warrior led his army in a final attempt to defeat the other's army, and the results were obvious, the ruler of Winterfell just had the upper hand.

King Stannis Baratheon was stumbling crudely across the forest, badly bloodied and tired from fighting the Bolton army still at large. He was hanging on for his life with every strength he had in his soul. His head thumped and thumped at every moment of thought. A migraine was building up when he had to fight his way in the forest with he could hear was the sounds of men screaming and swords clanging. His mouth and body started to freeze and make his temperature go numb with pain, the anger in him was almost crippling to the point he could suffer a breakdown.

He looked around him and had to take in the sad fact that his entire army, that was loyal to the end, was defeated at last - not retreating. Not even his loyal commanders were around him anymore, he was most likely covered in their blood by now. He was defeated in the battle against Bolton's forces and defeated in the war of the Seven Kingdoms he desperately wanted to win. Stannis was the true King of Westeros, yet they chose a bastard child over a man who was just and fair. Apparently, they hated a just and fair man.

During his campaign, he was the only one who could have freed the North from the ruthless man-flaying Boltons, but their own army has denied him that. Everyone he knew and honored denied him his rightful claim, and even the remaining Starks have chosen their side, ever since they sided with another pretender to the crown. In his over forty years of training, child to man, he never thought to see the day the Baratheon sigil would fall, at worse to traitors who deserved everything they have coming to them.

For a decade the Baratheons ruled the Seven Kingdoms. Now that all the heirs to the throne were dead it was all up to Stannis Baratheon to free the Iron Throne from the rule of the Lannisters and restore what would be best for the realm. He used his standing as the "chosen one" and the fact he was the only one alive who knew the true parentage of the fools who sit on the Iron Throne to his advantage, but it wouldn't matter now.

Stannis was one of the most powerful commanders in all of Westeros and possibly across the Narrow Sea. He was extremely weak in numbers, and now he got no numbers at all. He might as well be dead, since he no longer felt any life in him anymore, in an honorable fashion. But every bone in his body told him to keep moving.

His tactics and sacrifices of innocent people meant nothing anymore when the Lord of Light has failed him and his claim to the Iron Throne. A small tear dropped from his eye as he remembered what he did prior to the battle. He couldn't get the screams out of his head. He was ashamed of himself as he realized everything the priestess said was false, all of it. He would have never won Winterfell and never get the chance to sit down and toast as the Bolton colors burn with the head of Roose Bolton on a pike. Everything he hoped for was taken from him, all because he put his trust into one witch. So much, he even turned over the thing he loved in his life.

Stannis was heartbroken, but not from the loss of the fight, but at all he has given to make it this far just to die now. Only the best of kings would give absolutely everything to save their kingdom, as is their duty in the first place, but even then it was not enough to save the entire Seven Kingdoms from what has happened thus far in the war.

With the majority of his strength left in him, he made himself move towards a tree with his sword fidgeting in the palm of his hand, but he fell over from exhaustion and had to use his sword to lift himself up and lean himself towards the tree. He closed his eyes and breathed in the air that might be his last breath of the air of Westeros. He knew his life came to an end and wanted to die in peace. His short break was stopped when he heard a man scream and the sound of a sword plunging into flesh. The Boltons came for him.

He struggled to turn himself around. He then saw himself coming face to face with two large men with the eyes of death looking at the weakened commander. They were under the Bolton banners, black-clothed and all; they were hoping this would be easy, wicked grins on their faces as they stared down the groaning fallen king.

They were the ones to attack him first. Stannis used all his strength to block one of the soldier's swords, and push him away from him and tried to attack the other one who was already advancing on him. The soldier managed to stab Stannis' leg and almost cripple him, but he used his strength to keep standing. Stannis retaliated by trying to slash him horizontally but missed him by a few inches. He then tried to charge towards him, full of anger, but the soldier stepped aside and indirectly caused Stannis to stab his companion, killing him with a sword through his guts. When the last one tried to charge at him, Stannis spun himself around as quick as he can and stabbed the man through the neck with a broken sword, causing crimson to spill on the wrist of his hand. He looked into the dying soldier's eyes for a moment before throwing his lifeless corpse on the ground.

Stannis was now too tired and wounded from all the fighting to stand up and fell on the ground instantly. He managed to use his strength and crawl himself back to the tree where he can try to rest. He positioned himself opposite to the battlefield and checked his leg. He screamed when he checked his leg and saw a gaping wound in it, but it didn't prevent him from moving his body. He was not screaming for the pain, he was screaming for the frustration that was building up in him. He was now unable to get back to his feet; he was too tired to even position himself in a more comfortable position. He closed his eyes and tried to think of thoughts in his head to clear his mind from the abuse, but there were none to think of.

For many years he spent on Dragonstone planning, maneuvering and recruiting to get to the position he was now to take over the North, and it all gets crushed under one mistake that caused him to lose his entire army to a bunch of man-flaying monsters on cavalry. Stannis was sad but tried to hide his tears. He did not want to die crying like a child.

He then heard the sounds of footsteps approaching. He opened his eyes and stood before was a very tall blonde woman, possibly a knight, staring at him with a stern look on her face. Her body looked more of a man to Stannis and he couldn't tell why she was on a battlefield. It was her curves that made him identify her gender, but her wearing dark colors made him think she was one of the soldiers come looking for survivors.

"Bolton has women fighting for him?" He asked.

She stood up tall with a serious glare added to her face, gripping her holstered sword in hand, staring decisively at the man whom she has sought out for over a year to bring justice to.

"I don't fight for the Boltons," she corrected "I'm Brienne of Tarth. I was a king's guard to Renly Baratheon." Stannis never heard that name since a year ago; when he was still planning his attack on King's Landing. Renly was his younger brother who went against him and proclaimed himself king, despite the fact Stannis was next in line. Stannis had him killed with something deadlier than an assassin, as it had to be done in order for him to unite the Stormlands to lay siege to the capital.

"I was there when he was murdered by a shadow with your face," Brienne confronted, showing a sense of disgust. "You murdered him, with blood magic?" Stannis looked at her with regret. He knew that lying would do nothing for him.

"I did." He honestly said.

Brienne then sturdily approached him up to the tree and she began to draw her sword but stopped with some of the steel peaking from its holster. She stood up in a stance that a lord always used when they were about to execute someone, and that execution would make her a kingslayer. My time has come, Stannis thought.

"In the name of Renly of House Baratheon, First of his Name, Rightful King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the Realm. I, Brienne of Tarth, sentence you to die." She finished.

Stannis didn't show fear at all, he knew this day would come when he chose to fight for his own side in the conflict, so he faced her with dignity. "Do you have any last words?" She asked. Stannis chewed on his lips thinking of what to say, but there were no such words that could save him on this day. He sighed and turned his head to his shoulders, accepting her to end his pain.

"Go on, do your duty" He requested, accepting his fate.

She then looked at him for a moment of pity then drew her sword, following the order of Stannis. Stannis looked up at her with fear in his eyes as his final moment has arrived.

She raised her sword with her eyes closed and then slashed at his head with her sword with a grunt. She thought her duty was done, but she noticed something, there was no sound of flesh being cut. She opened her eyes and saw she only cut the tree like a lumberjack, the part where Stannis' head was supposed to be. She realized that Stannis was missing from sight and she started to turn her head left to right, trying to find him in case he ran. She found nothing. The King was missing.

The sound of an explosion that could have blown up an entire keep, if not for the small radius, has started and sent students flying everywhere, staining their clothes in the grass. The smoke from the explosion circled around every student and they fell to the ground by the impact. The grey fumes blurred everything up. Louise fell on her backside but didn't bother to stand up. She just knew it; there was a little hum in her head that told her that she had summoned something. She looked into the smoke and saw a shadow. The students helped each other up and joined Louise in looking into the smoke.

She concentrated hard to peer into the dusty smoke, and as it cleared away she could see a man rising up from the ground. The silhouette showed the shadow of someone large walking towards them, a sword in its hand.

A tall old-looking person emerged from the smoke; he was covered in black dust and blood that stuck to his armor like a shroud. The Lord of Dragonstone, Stannis Baratheon stood before them, but he looked to be limping, using an ornate hilted sword as his walking stick. He huffed and puffed to try to catch his breath. Everyone got up and stared at his physique, questioning what he is. He's obviously a human being.

Stannis stood out to them as a man with experience - a quite tall, broad-shouldered and slim of flesh man. He was in his first period of middle age, with balding black hair shaded with grey, a short beard that stretched across his face like stubble, and a fair skin complexion. Due to his ways of dark magic, he looked slightly older. He was wearing his very own crafted lord's grey chainmail armor with grey armor plating on the arms and chest. The most notable feature on his person is the stag's heart boarded by roaring flames inlaid on his chest-plate that sealed his loyalty to the Lord of Light, R'hllor.

Stannis towered over Louise by at least two feet and looked like a true warrior compared to any other man, Louise took note of this.

Pure magical energy rushed around his body, cleansed the Baratheon and calmed his mind, refreshing his will to be more alive than ever, but it wouldn't last long. He could not feel the pain or how tired he was before he was taken by the portal to this world. It was numb in his wound, but not from the cold of the North. Stannis would rather leave it at that.

He stood on an endless grassy plain under a clear sky of heavenly blue that dawned over him, with a gentle breeze of the wind that made his hair blow up and made it look like it had come to life. He looked around and saw he was surrounded by children, maybe in their teens, dressed in white shirts, black trousers, and wore black cloaks that made them look like clerks of the Seven. The majority of them looked completely foreign to his eyes, almost blinding with their silky white shirts.

There was something that made the hackles on Stannis' head rise with suspicion. This area definitely had more colors and was a prettier sight than his own castle, maybe even all of the Stormlands combined - maybe not. It was certainly more welcoming than taking a ship right into the sea of King's Landing. He was opened mouth in confusion as he kept looking up in the sky, there was no sign of heat or snow added to it, clearly, he's not in the North.

It took him a while to realize someone was calling him from beneath him. On the ground before him was the person who had called him to the realm: a little girl with pink hair and amber eyes that looked intimidating enough to NOT be able to scare a mouse. Stannis was completely taken back with the girl staring into his face and right through him. He also found it a bit humorous of how miniature she is compared to him, unaware she has the power to easily harm him while messing it up at the same time.

Though the child wasn't taken back at all she was completely unaware of the immense deed she had just performed by pulling Stannis before getting his head hacked off nor the true talents that lied locked within her. Years she had been waiting, starting from months to days then months again, waiting and praying to finally get her goal, starting from a very rough start. Today it has changed. The man who was in front of her may not look like much but he can command an entire army of sellswords to conquer a square of the world.

Stannis himself was grateful from being pulled out from his own world - completely grateful. Each day in Westeros had been worse as it continued to push him to his breaking point. To this day it will change his life...forever.

Seconds past and the crowd of children began to take in Stannis Baratheon's presence before they begin to chatter amongst themselves. They couldn't help but ask themselves who this man was. Stannis could only make out what a few of them are saying before getting irritated by the sounds of child chatter.

"He looks a bit old." "Is he a general?" "He's a knight perhaps?" All of these questions were asked but all didn't have a valid answer.

Stannis was still a bit lightheaded and started to feel the effects of numbness in his body as he kept standing in the bright sunlight that made his vision go almost blind and his brain go groggy. He managed to keep his watch on the pink head girl before him. Not a single ounce of fear could be found; only curiosity could be seen sparkling in her wide-eyed innocent looking eyes.

Stannis doesn't buy it.

Upon looking at him, he was immediately dubbed a warrior, by Louise, a warrior of skill and strength, but a bit old. A being that had the pure blood of battle in running in his veins, armor showed great power and a face that showed everyone he was a very serious man. Certainly, it was not a beast as she had expected, but at least she didn't summon something pathetic like a commoner. But he was a warrior that has come straight from a battlefield.

"I am Louise Francoise le Blanc de la Valliere!" She quickly spat out and stood up, "Who are you, familiar?"

Stannis then looked at her in the eyes and stood in a sideways stance while he gripped his sword. "I'm Stannis. King Stannis Baratheon." He introduced, grinding his teeth from snow.

The student's questions were answered finally. They gasped with shock and stunning feelings at the same time upon hearing his title: a king! Louise herself was the most shocked looking. Not only did she summon a warrior, but a king. She was not at all depressed anymore but was completely stunned. She then came up with all sorts of assumptions of where she has summoned him from. From his very own royal palace about to bring justice? In the middle of a battle, he was desperate to lead? Or maybe when he was just crowned king, perhaps? She was more hysterical then Stannis now, causing her head to go down and go bright red.

"A-a king?" Louise gulped. Stannis looked at her with an angry frown on his face and asked, "Do you deny my claim?" Louise stood silent.

The students then started to chatter among themselves again, this time in regards to the king that has been summoned. Most of them believed he was simply stretching out what he was, while few questioned why he wasn't wearing a crown.

Louise looked up and down, scanning the physique of him. Stannis obviously looked like he had been in battle. Blood and dirt covered most of his armor and he was wielding a bloodied sword that was coated with a gold grip. She thought a general suited him more. Louise filed her thoughts of the so-called "king" for the time being. She was more interested in trying to make this man become her familiar.

"Mr. Colbert! What do I do now?" Louise called out to the teacher. "You must complete the contract, Miss Louise," the Teacher told. "Merge your energy with him and make him you're familiar."

Louise then approached Stannis, who was still staring at her. They gazed into each other's eyes. Louise felt the urge to back away as she had the thought of having to kiss someone who looks so disgusting, not because he looks thirty years older than her but because he looks like he never had a bath in weeks. She managed to dismiss it and tried to keep in her mind that Stannis was of king's blood. It might just work.

Stannis then, without command, knelt down to her and was intending to ask her a question, while trying to get to her size.

Louise licked her lips and swallowed her saliva, with an exhaled breath she began her chant, "I hereby swear by the Oath Of Name, for I am Louise Francoise le Blanc de la Valliere, that my fate shall be entwined with thee and thy fate with my own," an energy of transparent orbs started to move around them and circle them, scaring Stannis, "O, Pentagon Of The Five Elemental Powers... I announce: bless this union of balance and fate!"

She moved closer to her kneeling familiar and placed her two hands on his head - his face was unexpectedly ruff and a bit mangy. With a light brush of her hand, she swept the forehead clean of blood and leaned forward to his puckered face. Her soft lips touched his; the sensation was only mildly pure and it tasted somewhat bland.

Louise Francoise's kiss maintained contact for a full second before she pulled away. She stepped back and wiped her mouth with the back of her cotton sleeve - she spat out the aftertaste of sweat and frozen hair that got caught in her mouth. She waited for the results of her spell.

Stannis was now completely and utterly confused with the situation going on now - more than he already was. First, a little pink-haired girl has summoned him on the brink of getting his head detached from his body by a woman's blade and now she kissed him when he hasn't even asked her a single question? Stannis pushed the girl back away and got back up and opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but his face was stuttering at every word he was about to say.

Stannis froze time in his mind. The students could hear his tooth grinding furiously as his body was starting to spasm, like the liquid of peppers were flowing in his veins.

Then suddenly an aura of magical energy came out of thin air and circled his body. Stannis tried to wave them away but to no avail. The magical energy then poured right into the neck of Stannis and created a charged light. He removed the leather flaps on his neck and he felt a rune of foreign markings burning on the side of his neck. Stannis then started to get hysterical.

"What did you do to me? Who are you people? For the love of R'hllor, someone please tell me where am I!?" He repeatedly yelled, over and over.

Everyone began to stutter as Stannis began stomping around and asking everyone the same questions. Stannis was starting to become mad with confusion unless someone gave him the answer he was looking for. Then the teacher went up behind him and tapped Stannis on his shoulder. He turned around and faced Colbert in the eyes, meeting face to face.

"You're in Tristain Academy of Magic," Jean answered.

Stannis jumped at the word "magic" and stared into the face of the teacher with wide eyes and a face that showed him distaste, it began to creep him out into stepping back a few steps, but Stannis got closer and closer. "Say again?" Stannis asked with his ear right in front of Jean's mouth. "An Academy of Magic, sire," Jean answered again.

Stannis finally got the word, seeing that most of the students were armed with wooden wands and the teacher had a staff the shape of a royal scepter.

"Magic?" Stannis whispered with a toned sound of slighted fear.

He was surrounded by people with magic sources, not only that, he realized he was in a completely foreign world then Westeros to be able to have pure magic because there is only one person he knew that could hold magic - she is dead to him. It made the Baratheon terrified at the notion that he has no entered a completely different realm, almost making him shake in a combination of shock and confusion.

Then something happened when Stannis started to turn red with his blood boiling up to his brain, his nervous systems began to come to life in his already oppressed body. His body began to shake and his breathing began to speed up, his body began to feel the pain he endured again. He was shaking violently and everyone watched in horror at what was happening to him, he looked like he was going to explode with his veins hanging from his flesh and his face cringed like he guzzled really bad wine.

Suddenly he dropped to the ground and let out a shrill scream into the air that could've woken up the entire castle, which it did. He grabbed his leg and opened his leg straps, and what the students saw made them hurl and scream with him. Louise was screaming at the top of her lungs, almost defeating the other screams, as she saw an open wound with frostbite and mush that laid on Stannis' leg, almost looking like a hacked meatloaf than a man's leg.

In the ordeal of the screaming, Stannis then felt his head pop then he started to lose conscious and faint, laying his head on Louise's feet as his eyes went gloomy. The last thing he saw was the nurses of the academy rushing over to him, but couldn't feel their touch as they lifted him up and carried him away.

The nurse of the infirmary used jars of fresh healing herbs to try to heal and close-up the open wound of Stannis' right leg, trying to get the wound healed as quickly as possible, or he would bleed out. Stannis cringed in agony as the pain shot through his body and up to his torso, giving his leg a dark and swollen tone to it that made it look like blood was clogged up to the bone, which it almost was.

Stannis squirmed and grind his teeth as the nurse tried to bandage up his wound, almost like a child trying to get out of his mother's grasp. Stannis was trying to stay still on the bloodied bed, but couldn't. He wondered why the stupid nurse couldn't have given him milk of the poppy.

"Don't squirm. You'll only make the blood run out." The Nurse insisted.

Stannis ignored her warning and kept squirming. The pain was excruciating - Stannis screams that could awake an entire forest of hibernating bears rested the case. The nurse knew what kind of pain he was in, with the sword wound right in his leg, she called him lucky that it didn't hit his bone otherwise he would have been crippled for life. Stannis took it as an offense.

His screams worried Louise, who was out of the room and was biting her teeth behind the door at every scream she heard. She hoped for the best of Stannis that he will be able to walk, or she would have to take care of him. Although she came to the theory that he was pulled from a battlefield - or a siege. She wanted to question the king in all sorts of ways, from beliefs, to kingdoms, to armies and to skills, all in that order.

"How exactly did this happen?" The nurse asked while bandaging up his wound.

"I was fighting for my life, against traitors of the North," Stannis replied, trying to be as modest as possible.

"Were you fighting against a rebellion, your highness?" Stannis then looked into the nurse's eyes and gave a face of sadness.

"I was -" Stannis was cut off when a loud bang caught him off guard.

Louise barged right in; almost breaking the door hinges, and came to Stannis' side in a great haste. She didn't ask any questions but examined his body to see if he has any more wounds, luckily he only sustained a leg injury - better than his vision or arms.

Stannis got up after the nurse finished bandaging up his wound, both palms on the pommel of his sword. He looked down, the wrapping has perfect and the blood was circulating. Stannis didn't bother to use his sword as a walking stick, despite being in agony; he didn't want to be thought by anyone as a cripple. To be sure, he ripped the cuffs of his undershirt off and tied it loosely around his ankle and made himself look even worse - no, better, he must think he is well in order to be well.

"The blade cut deep, but you can still walk. Just don't apply too much pressure, okay?" The nurse warned.

Stannis gave a silent nod. He holstered his sword, put his boots on and walked alongside his pink-haired little friend out from the infirmary and into a lightly-lit corridor then they walked side-by-side each other, more like one's body covering the other's face.

"Listen, Stannis. I have no idea who you are, nor do you know who I am, but what I expect from a king is a lot of skills and power. I don't want you to embarrass me. You follow my orders from now on, you do what I saw when I saw, got it!?" Louise tolled.

Stannis tried to ignore the words she said. He was paying full attention to the pictures on the wall from left to right. They pictures opened in his mind and showed him wizards, mages, warriors of fire and dragon riders in heroic stances that showed power in all sorts of magic. Stannis was taken in into his own fantasy when he saw a painting of a warrior kneeling on a stone with a sword of fire, he remembered holding a sword that looked similar to the one the man is holding, but his was a bit more "flashy" then the one he held when he was introduced to R'hllor.

He dismissed the memories of his past in his head when he thought up a name in the back of his mind and continued on his way, with Louise tugging on the end of his armor.

Little Louise was back in her room with her royal familiar. Stannis was forced to sleep on an uncomfortable haystack on the side of Louise's bed that he couldn't even sleep; especially when the candles are still lit and are lighting right through his eyelids. Even though he still had his armor on he was vulnerable to any sort of magic.

At least he had the descents to wash the blood off him.

While Louise was combing her hair she was lecturing him about his duties as her servant, from having to protect her from harm, make her bed and have to tend to her every need. Stannis only needed to lay there and planned to wait until she was sleeping, all while tuning out the squeaky voice of his "master". He was already annoyed with her.

He knew so little about the structure he was in, but all he knew was that this was not in the realm of Westeros, not Dragonstone and definitely not Braavos. Tristain is the right term. Stannis was out of his place in this world, by a long-shot. He didn't know at all what or why he was there, even though it is being explained to him. He would rather get it explained by some a lot less...bitchy.

Stannis seemed not to be listening to her words, only managing to hear those who have been upped in tune. He was busy studying the oiled wooden boards on the ceiling in a half-bored, half-annoyed way he is. Even Louise should know it is bad to bore a man like Stannis. In truth, Stannis was already bored with his previous life.

While it's true that she didn't have any immediate plans for her first familiar, she full knows that she has summoned a king from another land, but he doesn't have anything to rule here, thus the only thing he can do now is guard her until he fulfills his service. She at least wanted to question and examine him in the privacy of her own room.

But it was getting late, so she decided to wait until tomorrow - or the day after that. Stannis watched as the little girl entered her bed and snored fast asleep in a little amount of time. He then finally got up and gave himself a few stretches, cracking a few bones. Good thing the nurses put herbs in his leg wound otherwise he would have gone down from the pain instantly. He then grabbed his sword and managed to walk himself out the door and close it, with only a silent squeak that could have given his position away.

Stannis casually walked out from the castle and into the light of the moon. Stars have come out from hiding. The moon was full with the black sky. The moon's rays bounced off his armor and created rays that reflected in all directions, he thought he was finally in peace. He forgot how calm and peaceful the moon actually was, especially when there was no smoke of burning pillars on the outside of the castle blocking it. There were no words for Stannis to say that would ever describe how beautiful the castle was - having previously lived in a war-torn Westeros has taken the comfort of peace away from him.

Stannis then decided to investigate his new castle a bit further, wanting to learn more about his position and if his royal status means anything in this world. He knew with the magic and sorcery that this world has would make his status as king questionable at this time, but there can be a few ways to prove he is indeed a leader.

He looked up and was spooked when he saw something fly over him, forming a large shadow on the moon. He was frightened by the sound of a loud screech that came from behind him. He turned and drew his sword upon seeing scales and wings fly over him, it was the size of a cabin and had talons that were sharp enough to skewer a Kraken. "A bloody dragon?" Stannis whispered.

The dragon's body is large and is completely covered with tough, shiny scales that glowed in the dark. He was calmed when he saw the dragon was being commanded by a rider - a rider with blue hair and an unrecognizable glass on her face, but Stannis couldn't get a better look at her when she was so high in the sky. He holstered his sword and continued on his way when the dragon flew out of sight and over the buildings. Stannis has never ever seen a dragon with his own eyes, only hearing about them in books he read about the conquest of the Seven Kingdoms. They were used to conquer all of Westeros by the Targaryans in a fiery blaze, ruining the kingdoms until his brother rebelled against them - luckily they didn't have any dragons with them then. Stannis was lucky he didn't encounter one.

Stannis then came to a corner of the dark structure, he stopped mid-step upon hearing the soft sound of humming birds coming around the corner. He moved himself past and stuck his head around the cold and stony corners to get a good look at where the bird was coming from. He then realized it was a woman making herself some music as she was scrubbing some dirty laundry. To Stannis, she looked like a young woman in her teens with curious looks: black hair, flashing blue eyes, fair-skinned and a slender, graceful figure that was thin as a dagger. The only thing Stannis took note of was the obvious fact she was beautiful, more beautiful than most girls he saw in his life.

There was something about her that was different most people he here as well people from the realm of Westeros. The clothes she was wearing looked completely foreign to what maid wore in the castles, considering hers was a bit more "alluring" and the fact she had some sort of touch to the world from where he came from. It was curiosity that moved his feet towards her.

Stannis walked in front of her, but she didn't notice him. Stannis put his covered palm onto her cottoned shoulder and got her attention. She was startled at his sudden appearance that she accidentally dropped her rack in the bucket of water, a suppressing yelp of fear and the freight she tried to run away. She then bumped into and found herself in the arms of Stannis Baratheon. For a full second, she looked into his brown eyes while Stannis looked into hers. Her eyes were fully opened and shined like a star into Stannis' filthy face. He released her from his uncomfortable grip.

"Here, let me get that for you." Stannis bent and helped her get her rack out from the cold water, cleaning his grubby hands in the process, he handed it to her in an orderly manner and stepped back a few steps, giving a blank and serious face at the giggling girl.

"Um, are you the kingly one Miss Valliere summoned earlier?" She asked him, getting a good look at his physique.

"So you have heard of me?" Stannis replied.

"Of course, everyone is talking about how an actual kingly peasant was summoned as a familiar!"

Stannis then jumped at the word 'peasant'.

"Did you just call me a peasant?" Stannis demanded her to tell him. She gave a frightened look when she realized her mistake when Stannis put his face close to hers and she quickly told him, "the nobility here are those who know how to use magic and the peasants are those who have none." Stannis understood, but reminded her to never call him a peasant again, he always hated that word.

Stannis still had no such knowledge of this so-called "familiar" mantle he was given upon entering, nor did he have knowledge of the people here. In his years of learning and now he is in a completely different world and, at worst, having to start in his forties and probably has less to learn. He didn't know these people and they didn't know him, he wanted to know them as best as possible before he can speak freely. "To whom am I speaking too?" Stannis politely chatted. "My name is Siesta; I have the honor to serve the nobility here." Siesta proclaimed.

Polite and courteous, a way a lady should be when greeting a king. Stannis knew this girl was sweet as honey by the way she talks, walks and communicates to him and he didn't want the honey to get sour. Stannis started to like her, in a servant type of way of course.

"As for how courteous this is I have to ask why I am here and why is there a marking on my neck," Stannis demanded, holding his neck in front of Siesta. "That is the rune of a familiar; this makes you a contract with a mage as a servant." She pointed out, curling her hair round and round, hoping Stannis won't take offense to that.

Stannis then took a step back and turned around in a state of realization. He could tell in the tone of her voice that she was serious; he felt a deepening surge in his mind that made him shallow to the bottom of his body. So deep in his mind that he couldn't even hear his own mind talk until Siesta tapped him on his back.

"So you're telling me that I'm that girl's servant? This cannot be happening to me. I am a warrior, a lord, a bloody king for the god's sake! Now I'm finally being demoted from my position to servitude. Am I no longer a king?" Stannis then began to get his brain pulsing again.

"It's only to an extent." Siesta comforted.

"She's a bloody child!" Stannis yelled at her in frustration. "I should have died at Winterfell."

Siesta was shocked when she heard Stannis and was disgusted at the wish of death he made. She put her hand on his shoulder and said, "Don't wish for that, Stannis. You can't break yourself down just because something hasn't gone your way. This is your chance to start anew again, your grace." Siesta didn't know at all at what Stannis has been through at all and he started to get annoyed with her too. What does she know of me? Stannis thought.

"Your grace?" Stannis rudely repeated. "What am I the king of in this world? Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" Stannis told the whimpering Siesta, "I can tell you it never goes my way, even at home I get downed by the people I knew. Now that I'm a servant to someone whose name is the only thing I know, I know they have finally beaten me" Siesta then finally knows what kind of man Stannis truly was, a man who was denied his inheritance.

"Tonight I am to sleep on a pile of hay like an old horse next to a slaving child's bedside." Stannis finished with a hiss as he stomped away from the maid.

Stannis then stood in the middle of a garden, surrounding himself with all kinds of flowers. He looked up in the skies and didn't see the Red Comet anymore and only saw a couple moons staring at him, finally confirming that he was indeed in a completely different world than his own.

"My life is over," Stannis told the two moons above him.

He stared at the ground, starting to fill the nightly breeze pass his skin and make his wet hands turn to snow. He was enraged with what has happened that day he looked into a bright light and reached into it. He didn't want to do it, but he did it anyway, and it cost him his entire life. He had no life now, no wife, no child, no army, no kingdom, no nothing, and he has no one to blame but himself for what transpired.

For a moment, Stannis Baratheon was filled with a terrible sense of insecurity. This was his new place now, in the new world. He looked at the towers around him, breathing heavily and grasped his chest. He knew his mantle as king means nothing anymore, and soon the entire academy will know it too. It doesn't mean he won't keep it, because as long as he is still breathing, he is still the King of the Seven Kingdoms.