The candle waited in front of Arya, set carefully near the wildfire. All she had to do was light it⊠and run.
But her feet wouldnât move.
Her fingers wouldnât obey.
Silence pressed in on her.
The signal hadnât come.
The whole plan hinged on a single moment: certainty. And now, that certainty was gone.
Above her, the city was collapsing. A wounded dragonâs roar. An impact. Fire. Rubble. Silence.
Was it time?
Was it too late?
Too soon?
Were Jon and Daenerys still alive?
Had the Night King arrived?
There was no way to know.
No one knew.
Only her.
Then, in the middle of that doubt, she heard it.
A voice.
Distant.
Ancient.
Just a whisper, as if rising from the stones or from some hidden corner of her memory.
No tone.
No face.
Just one phrase.
"Burn them all."
For a moment, Arya stood still.
Her heart pounding.
Her mind frozen.
The echo wrapped around her like smoke entering a wound.
Was it real?
Was it hers?
Was the city speaking to her?
Or was it the weight of fear, of fire, of history itself?
The echo of an old voice of madness echoing through generations?
A warning?
An order?
She remembered her fatherâs face.
Syrioâs words.
The list of names.
The road she had walked.
Everything she had done.
Everything she had lost.
Maybe this was the end.
Maybe her destiny wasnât to survive, but to be the hand that destroyed everything⊠so others could live.
But⊠what if it wasnât the time?
What if she lit the candle too early?
Was this truly the chance to defeat the Night King?
She stepped toward the candle.
Her hand trembled.
"Just do it."
"Do it and run."
"End it."
But she didnât.
She closed her eyes.
Took a deep breath.
There was no certainty.
And without certainty⊠nothing else could burn.
She grabbed her bow.
Secured the dragonglass arrows on her back.
And began to run through the tunnels.
The plan had failed.
Or maybe not.
Maybe it just wasnât time yet.
Maybe there was still a chance to use the wildfire⊠but not like this.
Not blindly.
Not without knowing.
If she failed now, there would be no second chance.
So she chose to wait.
Choosing not to destroy everything⊠was also a way to fight.