“You must give yourself to Him of Many Faces.” The Kindly Man told her. “Who are you?” He would ask, over and over and she’d always reply saying, “No One.” Each time, it was lie; both she and the Kindly Man knew. But there came a day when Arya allowed herself to slip away. She threw away her vengeance, her name, her family and bathed in Death’s black cloak. The girl’s sacrifice didn’t go unrewarded and thus the Many Faced God gave her the Power she sought.
For years Arya Stark of Winterfell had lain dead in No One’s bottomless pit. And she continued to slowly rot amidst that darkness until No One traveled across the Narrow Sea to seek her next target. It was there in the woods of the Riverlands that they met. A large beast with yellow orbs possessing fur crafted of smoke and snow approached her in the black of night. ,
On that evening, No One’s eyes shut, just like she closed countless others. The she-wolf had slain her and through No One’s death, Arya Stark was reborn. Together, they traveled back to Winterfell. The Forgotten daughter of Ned Stark and her Direwolf had finally come home.
