Game of Thrones, Season 2

Bran:
Every night it's the same: I'm walking, running, but I'm not me. I'm running through the Godswood, sniffing the dirt, tasting blood in my mouth when I've made a fresh kill, howling. Old Nan used to tell me stories about magical people who could live inside stags, birds, wolves.

Maester Luwin:
That's exactly what they were, Bran: stories.

Bran:
So she was lying? They don't exist?

Maester Luwin:
Well, they may have done, but they're gone from the world along with much else. These are dreams, Bran, nothing more.

Bran:
No. My dreams are different. Mine are true. I dreamt of my father dying and Rickon had the same dream.

Maester Luwin:
What about all the dreams you had that didn't come true? [removes a link from his chain] This link is made of Valyrian steel. Only one Maester in a hundred wears it on his chain. It signifies that I have studied the higher mysteries, and all who study these mysteries try their hand at spells. I was not different. I was young and what boy doesn't secretly wish for special powers to lift him out of his dull life into a special one, but in the end, for all of my efforts, I got no more out of it than a thousand boys before me. Come on. [tucks Bran back to bed] Maybe magic once was a mighty force in the world, but not anymore; the dragons are gone, the giants are dead, and the children of the forest forgotten.