The following days were the same, repeating in the same sequence. After the conversation with his father, Haldor felt they had become closer, but in reality, neither felt any more connected to the other, and this had been the case since his birth.
His memories were vivid, as if they had happened yesterday. Haldor imagined this was because he had been reborn and embodied in a new body that had granted him all his memories so he wouldn't forget.
Because of this, both shared the thought of staying away from each other, where they wouldn't hurt each other with words or deep pain.
As the days passed, weeks went by since Haldor's arrival, and then the most-awaited moment for all the noble houses came.
Haldor was almost fifteen years old. His face, as impeccable and tired as always, showed not only his ambition for power but also that he was a worthy heir to the crown that very few envied.
Haldor looked at himself carefully in a full-length mirror. Dressed in a ceremonial suit, the care and details of his attire were striking. Silver chains descended from his right shoulder to his chest, golden wings protruded from his neck, and a large belt fastened his clothes at his waist.
"Everything is ready; your family is waiting for you in the hall," said a servant who has been at his disposal since his arrival on this island.
"Let's go then." Haldor walked down a narrow path leading to a special chamber.
"It is an honor to see the heir of our family; glory to the old customs," many of the royal family members said when they saw Haldor arrive in the hall.
Haldor didn't recognize anyone; he assumed some of them were uncles or cousins who had sworn loyalty to the crown. But being a little interested in empty conversations, he only generally thanked them for their congratulations.
"That's enough; let's get going," said an older member of the group whom Haldor had never seen before.
"My lord, by your father's orders, I will escort you to the meeting place," said a sorcerer in ceremonial attire. On his right shoulder, Haldor could see a firefly-shaped seal, indicating the sorcerer's identity.
"Then I will follow you," Haldor said calmly. The sorcerer nodded and led the way to the great hall, where the ceremony would take place.
On the way, Haldor clearly saw a large number of sorcerers heading silently to the same place. From their clothes, he discovered they came from different parts of the north.
When they reached a spiral staircase, Haldor followed the sorcerer upwards.
"We have arrived, my lord," said the sorcerer as he opened the door.
Under the creak of the old door, Haldor saw an enormous place where thousands of sorcerers were seated around the specially prepared seats for his arrival. As seconds passed, more and more sorcerers continued to arrive. Haldor, seeing his father seated in a sort of principal seat, walked to his side and waited silently for everything to begin.
Harald Hardrada glanced at his son and nodded. His serious gaze showed that the role of king was well-deserved. In the distance, Haldor saw his family and many sorcerers dressed in the same uniform he wore.
When the moment came, Harald stood up and took a few steps forward. "We are gathered on this occasion for an event that has been celebrated for hundreds of years. I sincerely thank you for your commitment on this occasion once again."
After saying that, there was much applause from the crowd, and then Iyad raised his hand to get everyone's attention. "As is customary, we are not gathered here for me. We are here to witness the appointment of the heir to the crown and to remember once again its importance."
"The time has come to start migrating south, where we will claim our own territory, whether through war or not. We are ready. We have two dragons capable of fighting and armored bears that are exceptional in battle."
"But there is something we must remember."
Harald looked at the wooden box in the center of the great hall. He walked slowly and said, "Thousands of years ago, after migrating north following our defeat by the dragons, long after the construction of the Winterfell Wall, we knew that something once again, that enemy we defeated over eight thousand years ago, would awaken in the north."
"In the name of the Vries family who fought with honor, the Meijer family who sacrificed themselves for you, the Smit family who joined the war regardless of borders, the Voss family who are no longer with us, and the Buterr family who left our era a long time ago," Harald looked at everyone and said, "We remember not only those families who built the future for all of us in the north, but we must also respect the minds of all the fallen sorcerers and warriors in battle against the white walkers."
Saying the last words, Harald opened the wooden box with strange marks, and from it emerged a white hand. This skeletal hand belonged to the previous Night King, who had been defeated by the Rhoynar and the First Men. This arm should have been motionless, but when he showed it to everyone, coldness flooded the enormous hall, and lowering their eyes, they witnessed the true terror a white walker had spread throughout the world.
"Many sorcerers died at the hands of the white walkers. Many lives were lost, and we didn't know how to stop them. Until finally, every man on earth united into a single army, and together we were able to eliminate them." Harald closed the wooden box, and moments later, the cold disappeared without a trace.
"Unlike the forest creatures who were the product of human crime, these did not feed on any known source. We only know that if we die at their hands, we will rise as one more of them to be in their army."
"Despite being expelled from our lands, we remember the past, so we will give the dragons a chance to leave without war. If they take it, we will not kill them. If they choose war, then we will crush them."
"And today, the time has finally come. Haldor Mondragón, my son, who is a dragon rider, answer the call and present yourself." Harald shouted as he looked at his son.
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