"Eyes not yet shut look now at the skyes thinking they see their birth right. They look down at the ground and in the burning ashes they see a crown." An outline forming through dust and smoke was approaching, becoming clearer with every word, graciously as a ghost floating behind the white horse, coming towards her. "The birth right bends before it's emperor, crowned by the god of many faces, the destiny."
Walking towards the horse with shy steps, so tired, not yet too broken, she rose her pale face and after rubbing off the ash off her eyelashes, the face standing before was not one she ever saw before, yet Arya's been blind before, and then she learned how to see.
"I'm going to kill the queen." the eyelashes were now causing discomfort with every blink from the blood that soldered them.
"Then go, Arya Stark of Winterfell."
She got up on the horse, looking back to see the man following her getting lost in the distance.