บท 21: Navigating Time's Turmoil

In this place where my soul is lost, I find myself reminiscing about my childhood memories. They all reside in an empty and secluded space, and I feel like a resurrected soul, reliving those memories. My life began from the moment I took my first breath in "Winterfell," and now, like drops of water in my visions, fading away, I am reliving those moments again.

"Winterfell," the good home where I grew up, now seems distant like a faraway ring. Within those walls, everyone loved and accepted each other, bravely dismissing temptations and forming bonds with others. The Stark family took care of me and loved me as their own. Except for Catelyn, who sometimes made life hell for me, the love I received from others was overwhelming. Looking at the positive aspect, many highborns kill bastards to eliminate potential threats to their legitimate heirs, but at least I survived.

My memories are like a seashore, washed away from my mind. In them, when I chose the "Wall" and joined the "Night's Watch," I faced the truth that being a respectable night's guard wasn't a reality. People with respect for duty were not present here, and you would hardly find someone like that. But over time, I found peace and serenity there. In that environment, I found good friends and enriched my sense of self. With a simple glance, I also reached the rank of "Night's Watch Commander" and took on responsibility with dignity.

But the truth, like a confrontational shadow, couldn't stay hidden. When the truth about my relation to "Targaryen" was revealed, everything fell apart, and I was torn between the Stark lineage and the fiery Targaryen blood.

Within this vast numbness, my amorous memories exist. "Ygritte," a wildling with fiery hair and a free spirit, captured my heart, and her fiery passion ignited a sense of being alive within me.

In these smallest corners of this empty world, my memories are thrown back and forth until I reach a bitter war that has no glimpse of the future. When my harmonies become discordant, I see myself as a dead man behind the walls of "Castle Black," where I discovered the tragedies that shaped my life.

The truth is, I never achieved anything, never grasped anything, never alerted anyone to the danger behind the wall. I simply followed a path set for me since childhood, and it infuriates me. I was not a bastard; I was Jon Targaryen, the heir to the throne, I am saying this not to pursue the rule of the Seven Kingdoms, but to at least be worthy enough to choose a path for myself, rather than surrender like a loser with the swords of others piercing my heart, from whom I accepted as a brother and ally.

I love my uncle very much; I love the Stark family and miss Arya's mischiefs, but my uncle also unjustly took away my right to choose. When I was killed, I came to this conclusion that I was lost in this deceptive dream that only my death could awaken me.

Now that others have found a better place for regret, I must find a way to free myself from this torment. I thought I would see a pristine place after death, not a dark place where I feel adrift.

I don't know how much time has passed, but with the passage of time, I felt that I was getting closer to something until I saw a light. I was drawn towards it, as if being washed away, and it was painful. When the pain subsided, my wounds started to heal. I knew I emerged from the darkness, but I didn't know what I would see, and it took time for my eyes to adjust to the light.

And I must say, it can easily be described as a mad adventure. I can't believe it; I went back to the moment I was born, and my mother held my hand. I feel something familiar, as if I am looking above things and feeling everything at once.

I see my mother, Lyanna Stark, embracing me, and I feel the tenderness and love she transfers to me. I wish I could tell her that I am her son in the future, that I am Jon Snow, the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. But I can't. I am just a soul, trapped in the past, a mere observer of my own life. The language is confined in a cage made of a child's body.

I look at my father, Eddard Stark, and my heart fills with love and pride, even though I am not truly his child. I wanted to thank him for everything he does for me, for keeping me safe and giving me a family I love. But when I thought about my future, I tightened my resolve to make a change this time and not be a loser, to be a free man, to embark on adventures, play with love, and unite the Seven Kingdoms against the Night King...

Next to my father, I see another man whose face is unclear, but it seems like he is close to my family, looking at me and my mother with eyes full of sorrow and love. Perhaps he is my father... No, my father must have been killed by Robert by now. It doesn't matter; I will find out who he is over time...

I don't know what my mother said to my father and that man, but in the last moment, I saw ease in her eyes, and in her last gaze at me, I saw regret and sorrow.

No... No... This shouldn't happen... I just saw you, my mother... I felt the first touch of motherly love... When I realized that

my mother was dying, it felt like my whole world was falling apart. Seeing her in that state, with all her weakness and wounds, was truly painful. My heart ached, and it seemed like darkness was engulfing the world around me. I wanted to help, but I couldn't. I felt so helpless, unable to be by her side and comfort her. I felt so powerless, unable to do anything to save her. The beautiful face of my mother was the last thing I saw...