Keanu

Geoff has always been a strange one. He was there on the night of the fire and if not for him I would be among the ashes. I was lingering at the Luchd Deuchainn. My training was complete but I was without purpose. I spent my days lounging on the steps and chatting up the apprentices. Eventually the maesters would lose their patience with me but they weren’t pushing yet. Not very hard anyway. The fire took some thirty students and all five of the maesters. It would have been thirty-eight if not for Geoff. Some apprentices, young and scared had found me in the halls. Honestly I was in a state, when they showed up with their eyes wide looking for answers, it forced me to manage my nerves and give them some. I didn’t have a real plan but I shouted for them to stop blubbering and follow me to the mess hall. That was a mistake. The walls were curtains of fire and all of the benches and tables were burning. I had probably picked the worst place possible to take shelter. The youngest one, Mercy, asked me about the maesters. I told her that I had found them but they were all dead. “Burned?” “Yes” I lied. “All of them?” “I found all but Maester Grodin but I don’t think we are making the east wing unless you are much better at fire protection than me.” I set them to shoving the burning benches to the outside walls and cowering in a ring at the center. This might have worked for a while but that’s when the beautiful gabled roof started to give way and so we were dodging fire from five directions now. We were cowered at floor level gasping for air when a cloud of superheated steam blasted through. The cloud parted for a murder black horse with fire in his mouth and I thought it was Old Spit himself come to collect. The horseman threw a rope at me and shouted that any of us that wanted to live best hold on tight. The little ones were too weak so I tied a slip knot on their wrists and yelled GO.