Chapitre 26: Chapter 26 - The Call of the North.
[Chapter Size: 2200 Words.]
Third Person POV.
Somewhere on North.
...
...
On the hill of the great Weirwood, the group had split into two as Jon continued his solitary journey northward, seeking more unanswered mysteries since he arrived in this world, and a strange calling pulling him in that direction, moving forward without looking back.
The same couldn't be said for the other group, as Ygritte turned her gaze to the north, watching the man she had joined within that forest, seeing him perform unreal and inexplicable acts, now becoming just a distant point amidst the snow.
"He will certainly live, human," a child of the forest spoke, noticing Ygritte's cautious eyes. As she pulled her gaze from Jon to look at the mystical creature, she frowned.
"Don't look at me like that. I don't like him, and I still think he may have doomed humanity by killing the three-eyed raven. After all, he was our best hope for what is to come. But we have no choice, and what I mean is, after everything we've seen him do, he certainly won't fall so easily..." the child of the forest responded.
"I suppose you're right... and will you keep your word?" Ygritte asked with a wary look, as she was alone with them after all.
"He bound me in some sort of contract... I can't do anything, and neither should we..." Leaf replied, having no choice since she did not want the wrath of that being upon them.
And so, they headed south, with Ygritte returning since Jon had said that from now on, things would only get harder, and the children of the forest leaving the roots of the great Weirwood for the first time in centuries or perhaps even millennia, as they had cared for each three-eyed raven. Both groups vanished from each other's sight in that moment.
Time passed, and since Jon had parted from Ygritte and the children of the forest, he traveled north for a week, encountering less and less wildlife as he progressed. He knew he was risking coming across an entire army of the dead by being there, accompanied only by a few animals in that frozen wasteland.
But that didn't matter now, for he felt a calling from the north, something he did not yet understand, and perhaps this was the only chance he would have to find out what it was.
Jon began to see undead more frequently; most of them he could spot walking in the distance, but none attempted their luck against him—at least until yesterday, when he was passing through a place that had experienced a recent storm. He calmly saw them buried in the snow, perhaps waiting for him or any other living being that might walk by. As soon as they tried to ambush him, they were quickly sliced by his runic bronze sword, flames engulfing them as they screamed.
"This world keeps getting stranger than the one I knew..." Jon murmured to himself. "First, seeing undead wandering about, White Walkers actually existing instead of being mere legends. Then, there's a man trapped in a tree, believed to be some kind of Messiah, but with no chance, and likely his soul won't end well after making an enemy of me, as I had intended to use it to forge something powerful. Being an ancient soul, it would have been quite useful. And now... now I can feel even things that were thought extinct... All of this would be expected in Skyrim, but not in this world." He muttered to himself, lost in his thoughts as he continued traveling.
He finally decided to stop walking when he saw the day nearing its end, with the sun beginning to disappear behind the frozen mountains to the west. He continued through the deserted forest and found a cave near a rocky outcrop. Entering it, he came face to face with a zombie bear; the creature, missing a leg, half of its mouth, and with glowing blue eyes, charged at Jon. He found the sight unsettling but quickly took control of the situation, killing the bear before it could react by throwing his sword and lodging it in its body. Afterward, he settled in the cave for the night.
This was a common sight in recent days; he could see more and more dead to the north, and more zombie animals around trying to attack him, yet strangely still in their nests, waiting for the command of whoever was behind their creation.
He lit a small fire, taking some things out of his dimensional space, and ate while extinguishing the fire to sleep, no longer needing the light. Once again, he surrendered to his dreams, his mind being pulled south, and once again, he felt the animal's fear.
Jon found himself small again, inside a closed space. It seemed like a barn or something similar, and outside, he could feel a great commotion. It was essentially a party. There, he felt the loneliness of the animal; even its siblings were no longer there, taken by their owners to the lively place.
'They're having fun, wherever that place is, and here I am, in the northernmost part of the world, alone, facing mystical creatures that would make anyone from the Seven Kingdoms soil themselves upon seeing them...' Jon, ignoring the animal's sad feeling, couldn't help but be ironic about his current situation.
The white wolf kept growling lamentably, wondering when they would come for him—not just anyone from the party, but when Jon himself would come for him, his warg, his master.
His dream was interrupted as he awoke, his spectral wolves beginning to disappear into the forest, indicating the movement of the undead—dozens at the very least, enough to kill his wolves.
With a sigh, he got up, passed by the burned bear's body, and took the Dark Sister sword from his dimensional space, stepping out of the cave.
"It's time to test this sword..." he said. He didn't even release a Magelight, as he used his night vision, wanting to test the magical metal's edge of this world on the creatures nearby to see if it had any effect, so he wouldn't use magic and would fight in the darkness of the night.
There were at least three hundred undead in the forest, along with a White Walker. Its glow was stronger than the others, visible to Jon through his undead detection magic.
And so, Jon moved toward the undead as they finally noticed him, walking toward the first one, which rushed to attack him. Jon sliced it, the creature letting out a roar of pain, splitting in half before falling silent.
The dead one fell to the ground with nothing more binding it to this world. Jon looked at the blade, satisfied to see that this magical metal worked and was clearly better than his runic swords or even the ice sword.
It wasn't long before he heard the growls in that dark forest, able to see as all the undead ran toward him. That night would be quite interesting for the Dragonborn, as he slashed zombie after zombie, eliminating them with just his sword. Some tried to surround him, but he didn't care. In the end, they only needed one cut—despite their large numbers, they were easy to deal with. When he needed space among them, Jon used his magic.
Hours of fighting passed, Jon letting his blood flow through his veins, enjoying himself, while his sword clashed against an ice blade. The White Walker had been cornered, with less than a third of its creatures remaining when Jon reached it, cutting through the crowd.
"You don't look so strong now, do you?" Jon taunted the creature, which looked at him cautiously. Unlike the first encounter he had with a White Walker, this one easily saw that Jon wasn't an easy prey, and he was openly mocking it.
Quickly, a battle between their blades began, and Jon was having fun against the White Walker's spear, passionately pushing away all the undead that approached them. The White Walker looked at him as if asking how a human could fight like that—even with his magic, he could cut down hundreds of wights without tiring.
The White Walker saw Jon roaring in a strange language that exuded power, throwing a group of undead backward, and tried to attack him at that moment, but only saw the Dragonborn moving like lightning, cutting off his arm before he could reach Jon with his blade.
The ice on his body began to crack, and in the next moment, as the creature looked on in fear, its head was removed with a swift motion from Jon, causing it to shatter into shards of ice and crumble entirely.
The other creatures around began to fall, with only a few Thu'ums echoing across the mountains after his shouts reached some distance, but he was alone again in the forest.
He knew this fight would have drawn the attention of other things in the region, but they wouldn't arrive for some time, making him yawn as he left all the bodies behind, since there was an hour before dawn and he wanted to sleep a bit more to keep his energy full.
Returning to the cave where he had his belongings, he casually thought about the little wolf, whom he would have to pick up soon. These dreams were somewhat unsettling, but he would leave that for when he returned south, for now, he had a goal in the north.
Waking up a few hours later, he packed his things and began advancing north again, now carrying two ice spears as war trophies, though still preferring his new sword.
The number of creatures was increasing more and more on that side, and Jon already knew he was in the far north. Snowstorms were constant there, and even with the warm clothes of the Free Folk, it might not be enough to protect him. He had a certain resistance against the cold and could also use layers of magic to protect himself from the storms and keep moving even within them, using his clairvoyance to follow the call. Not that clairvoyance led him automatically, but it gave him some direction, as the call pulling Jon was something internal, something to do even with his Thu'um soul.
And so, he continued for another week, facing even larger groups and fighting undead every day. Certainly, this was not a place where Ygritte should have come, and Jon was satisfied that the girl had agreed to return south.
Jon kept having dreams about the wolf. It seemed that the place was always in celebration every night, but the wolf remained alone while his siblings were with their owners, who appeared to be a large family. He began to notice that even when the animal was with his siblings during some parts of the day, it still sought Jon himself. The wolf wanted to connect as that family did—connected with each of the wolves. Though Jon already knew where he would find it and who the other wolves' owners were.
But it wasn't just that. Jon dreamed of his little bird that was growing in Lucis's tent. He even spied on the girl with her brother, complaining about how worried she was about Jon after so many days without news. Even the boy seemed a bit hesitant, as there were no new updates.
Jon had simply headed north, shocking everyone, and the rumors about what he had done at the northern camp were now clearly known by all. If some had seen him as just a mere outsider before, now they saw him differently—some with fear, others with admiration. Rumors said that all who challenged him were dead and that he was ruthless when necessary, yet a savior in times of need, displaying powers beyond human capacity, like a deity.
The raven chick also felt this growing connection with Jon. It seemed to be starting to grow, though still very young. It continued trying to learn more about these Warg abilities since it spoke with that forest witch. Jon was an open-minded person. He had never had time to study destruction or restoration magic in depth in Skyrim, but he certainly now had an opportunity to learn a new kind of magic, like the druids or even creatures like Spriggans, who had magic to control wildlife.
And so it was, between dreams, traveling north day after day and killing zombies, but without encountering any more White Walkers, that he finally reached his goal: a mountain five kilometers away, with ice pillars that looked like a human construction. As soon as he activated his undead detection eyes, he was surprised. There was an entire line of undead, thousands of them in one place, surrounding the mountain.
This made Jon wonder if that was where the army of the dead truly gathered. He also saw some brighter auras, indicating the presence of White Walkers. Certainly, this was a number that even he could not face all at once in his current state.
"Well, I'm not giving up now. I just have to get through all these dead..." he decided without fear, taking a step forward, heading toward the mountain.
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Raccoon Here:
I'm a bit rusty with this fanfic. If I'm writing something wrong, could you correct me?
I'm asking this because it had been months since I last wrote a chapter of this fanfic.
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone