would burn steadfast over the long, dangerous
miles.
All the way to the killing fields of
Terrasen.
Hearth to hearth, the Flame of War went.
Over snow-blasted mountains and amongst
the trees of tangled forests, hiding from the
enemies that prowled the skies. Through long,
bitterly cold nights where the wind howled as
it tried to wipe out any trace of that flame.
But the wind did not succeed, not against
the flame of the queen.
So hearth to hearth, it went.
To remote villages where people screamed
and scattered as a young-faced woman
descended from the skies on a broom, waving
her torch high.
Not to signal them, but the few women who
did not run. Who walked toward the flame, the