The Land Beyond Time and Hearth

Jon made his way towards the dining hall of Castle Black. He had his eyes peeled for a glimpse of his uncle, he didn't want to waste time. The dream of Bloodraven and the messages from the actual raven had shaken him up so. He crossed the yard in deep thought, not seeing his uncle anywhere. He found Robb and the others sitting together having their meals. He took a plate of food consisting of bread, burnt sausages and poached eggs and a mug of ale to wash it all down, and went to sit with them.

"Have you seen Uncle Benjen this morning?" Jon asked Robb sitting opposite of him.

"No, I heard he is in a meeting with the Lord Commander. So mayhaps we will get to see him later in the morning." Robb shrugged his shoulder.

Jon nodded and concentrated on his food. He was still thinking about how he should approach his uncle with the proposal for accompanying in a ranging mission beyond the Wall. He was brought back to the world by a sharp kick from Robb to his shin. He looked up at him indignantly.

"What?!"

Robb narrowed his eyes at him, "I was the one who is supposed to ask you that question. Asher has been trying to rouse you but you seemed to be enamoured with your sausage." He gave him a smirk. Asher and Torrhen chuckled.

Jon threw him a dirty look, "You are not as funny as you think, do you know that, Stark?"

"Oh, I am plenty funny to the right audience, Snow, now please answer the question."

"I am sorry, was there a question somewhere between those childish barbs?"

Asher leaned forward on the table, "Now I am also pretty sure that you are up to something, Jon. Come on, out with it." Torrhen too turned towards Jon with a questioning look on his face.

Jon took a look at all their faces and sighed, he pushed his almost finished plate of food away and leaned in closer to the table, beckoning the others to move even closer towards him.

"I am planning on meeting with the Lord Commander later and propose him of a ranging beyond the Wall. I need to convince Uncle Benjen first so that I can come with him to this ranging. Mayhaps we could find this 'King-beyond-the-Wall' and take a measure of the man and the force he has under him." He couldn't tell them of the real reason he wanted to go beyond the Wall after all.

"I knew it!" Robb whispered furiously, "I knew you would do something foolhardy if you come here after what we found at Skagos. That is why I insisted to come along with you. Forget it, Jon, you are not going out there."

Jon ran a hand through his hair in frustration, he should have thought that was exactly what Robb was going to say. He tried for a different approach, he took a gamble with it and decided to give them half-truths.

"You do know I am a warg, right?" Everybody nodded their heads, "What I didn't tell you is that since I came here, or more clearly since I came into contact with the Wall, the magic of it had woken something in me and I am started to have this sort of dreams. Which I am pretty sure is Greenseer dreams. When you came to wake me this morning, Robb, I was having one such dream. It indicated me to go beyond the Wall, and I intend to follow it through."

Jon could see that his friends hadn't believed him. They were still looking at him suspiciously.

"Look, I don't care if you believe me or not. I know I am in the right. If you don't want me to go alone out there, Robb, then, by all means, come with me. Now that I said about it, I think it will be a far better idea for all of us to go. This way, we can convince the Lord Commander that we will not be needing too many resources from the Watch or more men for our trip. We will go with the men we brought along with us. Only Uncle Benjen will come with us as a guide and a representative for the Watch."

Robb looked very seriously at Jon, "Brother, do you know how wroth Father was when he heard about your actions with the Ironborn or the invaders? He almost took it out of my hide because I didn't stop you from doing those foolish things. He specifically told me to drag your arse back home if I feel the situation demands it. And I think this -" he waved his hand to Jon, "truly demands it."

Jon couldn't see any way of making Robb agree with him, he was desperate. "Robb, brother, I know Father worries about us. I know that I have put you through hell when I dove into the sea or charged out to meet the Skagosi. But I need you to understand, please! I cannot properly explain this to you, but I feel that this place that I saw in my dreams, holds the key to my destiny. Would you deny me of it?"

Jon knew he was being unfair to Robb, but he had to go to the hill with the Weirwood tree, by any means possible.

Robb had his head down in deep thought. Jon waited for him to answer with growing anxiety. After a long while, he raised his head and looked for Asher and Torrhen. "What do you lads think about this?"

Asher took a few moments to form his answer, "Jon does pull some insane ideas out of his crazed head, but they are always beneficial in the end. If he feels this strongly to go to the place he dreamt of, I think we should give him a chance. We will be there to watch his back after all."

Torrhen was rubbing his brows, he was well aware of the dangers Jon normally attracted towards himself. "Aye, if we deny him now, he may give us the slip and go out there alone. You all know how wily our Jon is. If we are out there with him, mayhaps we can control this wild beast somewhat." He sent him a smirk.

Robb let out a frustrated sigh, "Very well, we will all go along with this madness." He turned towards Jon and pointed his finger to him, "But, you need to convince Uncle Benjen and the Lord Commander on your own, don't expect any help from me doing that, Snow."

Jon had a face splitting grin on. "Thank you, all of you. You have no idea what this means to me. And don't you worry, Robb, I will take care of everything."

Robb snorted, "That is what I am afraid of."

Jon didn't mind the jab, he had overcome the first obstacle. Next, he needed to convince his uncle, and through him, the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.

*Line Break*

It was easier than he thought to make his uncle understand the urgency of his visiting the hill with the Weirwood tree. He took his Uncle Benjen with him to a discussion with Maester Aemon. There, he told the both of them about his dream and the message that Bloodraven had told him through it. Benjen was sceptical about it all, but Maester Aemon was thoughtful.

"What you have described, Aemon is the true nature of our Uncle Brynden. The man was vilified, made a myth of the blackest nature, but in reality, he was nothing more than a man devoted to his duties to the realm and its people. He and I came to the Wall together, escorted by Ser Duncan. We had spent many nights just talking. In a way, I knew him better than any living soul. Are you certain he truly lives still? He must have become ancient by now, and my telling so should hold some light to the matter."

Jon snorted the way the Maester said the last thing. Indeed, Bloodraven should be a man over hundred years of age by now.

"And this ancient relic of a man sent our nephew here a message in his dreams? Pardon me, but I just don't believe in all this magic." Benjen scoffed.

Maester Aemon turned his sightless eyes towards the ranger, Benjen squirmed in his seat by the intensity in those milky white eyes trained on him.

"Pardon me for asking, Benjen Stark, but doesn't your family boast to have the blood of First Men? Haven't you read about your ancestors who were wargs and have direwolf companions? Greenseeing abilities? Like the blood of First Men, the blood of old Valyria too boasts for the magic it holds. Deanys the Dreamer has documented what she believed to be prophetic dreams, and believing in her powers, the Targaryens managed to escape the Doom that ended the Valyrian Empire. Our ancestors rode actual fire breathing dragons. There are more things between heaven and earth, Master Benjen, that a man's philosophy can't even dream of. Take this young man here, for instance, he is a warg, have a falcon companion and starting to show some Greenseer abilities."

Jon was listening intently to his Targaryen uncle, a lifetime could be spent listening to the man, for he was equal to none in knowledge and wisdom with any man he had met in his life. He reached out and touched the arm of his agitated maternal uncle.

"Uncle Ben…we are at the Wall. A construct that has been standing tall for nearly eight thousand years. Our world has seen numerous summers in this long a time, yet the Wall made of ice hasn't melted down. What can it be if it is not magic? Uncle Aemon is right, our blood does contain the power, Uncle Ben, for it was Bran the Builder who had built this thing - Brandon Stark!"

Jon could see that Benjen was still reluctant, but also couldn't refute the arguments both Aemons put forward to him. He let out a defeated sigh and nodded.

"Very well, I will speak with the Lord Commander. But I am not making any promises, and I certainly will not be telling him about all this magical business, I'll be laughed right out of his solar." He glared at the duo, daring them to tell him otherwise. Jon gave him a beatific smile.

"Thank you, Uncle Benjen, that is all I ask."

Benjen huffed and got out of the room. Jon was mentally cheering about getting over another obstacle when Maester Aemon cleared his throat to indicate he had something more to say to him.

"While I hope success in your endeavour, Aemon, I also urge you to maintain caution. Magic is not to be taken lightly, it is like a sword without a hilt. It can hurt the wielder the same it does to the one it was wielded for. The Maesters at the Citadel had spent years of their lives to dissuade the notion of magic, for they think it is too unreliable. And whatever Uncle Brynden tells you, think it over, do not decide upon them readily."

Jon nodded his head, "Aye, uncle, I will keep it in my mind."

*Line Break*

Benjen had somehow managed to make the Lord Commander granting them leave for a ranging mission. He was reluctant of sending his former liege lord's sons out there into the dangerous, wildlands beyond the Wall, but since they would be accompanied with a contingent of armed guards, and would be guided by a seasoned ranger like Benjen Stark, who was also their uncle, he finally agreed to let them accompany on this mission.

Their preparations took two days, on the dawn of the third day, they went out by the tunnel under the Wall, towards the lands of proper North, lands of mystery and unknown dangers. Jon had become used to the wonder that was the Wall made of ice, but when he was riding through the tunnel with dripping ice water falling on top of him, he was once again mesmerized by its creation.

When they were out into the sunlight, Gale had made her presence known by shrieking. She was strangely absent during the entirety of their stay at Castle Black. She circled them twice before flying over the path they had decided to follow. Jon had an inclination that Bloodraven was behind Gale's suspicious disappearance and now her acting like a flying herald. He turned towards Benjen who was riding beside him.

"That, Uncle Ben, is Gale. She is my friend, companion, and the spoiled princess thanks largely to Lady Anya, little Alys and Sansa."

Gale, who had turned around for another pass overhead, had swooped down to flew over the men's heads and when she was passing Jon, she whacked him on his head by her wings, eliciting snickers from Robb and the others.

"Alright, alright! You are not a spoiled princess!" Jon shouted after her. He turned to face his uncle as if trying to say – see, what did I tell you. Benjen laughed out loud by the antics of his nephew and his haughty familiar.

"We should follow her Uncle, she is showing us the way." Jon gave Benjen a meaningful stare. Benjen nodded and tried to map out the straightest route towards Craster's Keep in his head.

[CotW]

It took them five days of trekking through the snow to reach Craster's Keep. It was laughable to call the collection of ramshackle huts haphazardly made of wood and stone, a keep. But still, it was a somewhat fortified homestead so far beyond the Wall. Benjen had warned the men of uttering a single word in the presence of Craster or even look towards any women present at the keep.

As they rode through the makeshift gates, a man came out of the main hut. He was old, wearing clothes similar to that of a Black Brother, but fur patches sewn in his clothing helped with spotting the difference. He sneered at Benjen when his eyes fell over him, baring his yellow teeth.

"Benjen Stark. I hadn't wish ta see yer ugly face for a long while. What are ye doing back so soon?"

Jon could see that Benjen's jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. But he maintained the civility of his tone, "Greetings Craster, we are on yet another ranging mission."

Craster peered towards the men, "They don't look like crows ta me."

"Aye, they are not Black Brothers, they are men from Winterfell, guarding the sons of Lord Stark."

"Ah, the sons of yer kneeler brother." He looked for Jon and Robb, "They look mighty pretty, prettier than me wives." He guffawed at his own words.

Benjen stopped Robb's hand from reaching for his sword. Craster looked on amusedly at their reactions.

"Did I offend ye, pretty boy? Ye wanna take out yer sword ta punish me?" Craster again snarled at them like a wild animal, "Learn from yer crow uncle boy, yer on my lands, so yer under my rules." He turned once again towards Benjen, "I take it ye wanna shelter?"

"Aye, and some supplies and information, if you would."

"Fine then, yer can come inside, but warn yer men, crow, I'll take their hands if they touch me pig, I'll gauge their eyes if they look where they're not supposed ta be lookin'." Saying that Craster turned around and went inside his home.

Benjen led the men towards the makeshift shed to tether their horses. He turned to them with a serious look, "Once again, do not say a word to that man and for the sake of Old Gods, do not look at anybody in the eyes."

They were all confused with all these warnings, Asher couldn't help himself from asking, "Why shouldn't we look? And what did he mean by wives?"

Benjen shook his head, "Trust me, Lord Forrester, you don't want to know."

*Line Break*

Ned was happy when he saw Winterfell in the distance. It had been months since he was away from his home. He spurred on his horse a little faster to reach for the welcoming walls of the keep. When he rode through the gates, he saw all of his family stood in the yard to welcome him home. As soon as he got down from his horse, he was attacked by three blurs, Arya, Bran and Rickon slammed into him babbling happily. He got down to his knees and hugged each of his children. He placed a kiss on each of their foreheads and placed little Rickon on his shoulders. Sansa, as always, the perfect little lady, had waited for her father to come forward. She gave him the warmest and sweetest smile and hugged him tightly.

"I have missed you, Father!" Her voice was muffled in the leathers of his armour.

He put Rickon on the ground and bent down to kiss Sansa's forehead, she was becoming a very beautiful woman, he wondered. "I have missed you too, sweetling."

He gave a nod towards Cley Cerwyn, Ladies Jonelle and Wynafryd, and approached his wife. Catelyn Stark stood there resplendent in her mix of Tully and Stark colours and flaming red hair. She bowed to him, "Welcome home, My Lord Husband. Winterfell is yours."

He hugged her and kiss on her cheek, "' Tis good to be home again, My Lady."

She took another glance at the men that came with Ned as if searching for someone. Not finding what she was looking for, a shadow of worry passed over her face, eyes narrowed, she nodded with a sniff and turned around, "I have ordered the servants to draw a bath for you. If you please, you should clean yourself before partaking in meals at the Great Hall, My Lord. Now, you must excuse me for I have my duties to attend to." She marched inside of the keep.

Ned stood there bewildered by the frosty behaviour of his wife, what had he done now?

Cat had avoided him for the rest of the day, she performed each of her duties as the benevolent Lady of the House but gave him a cold shoulder. Even during the meals, she kept herself busy by discussing lessons of the children with Lady Ella, Ned tried to answer their children's thousands of questions all at once and kept wondering what he did so heinous now for his wife to behave in such a way.

As the night deepened, they had retired for the day. Ned was waiting for his wife to come into their bedroom, too long he had been away from her. Catelyn stormed into the room and shut the doors with a slam.

"Cat!" He spread his arms for an embrace, but Catelyn pushed him away. She was fuming mad.

"Where are the boys, Ned? Where have you left them?"

Ned sighed and sat down on the bed. She was worried about her son and nephew's absence, he finally understood. He tried to explain to her about the aftermath of their war and how Jon had insisted to visit the Wall to warn the Watch and also pay a visit to Benjen. Robb, being a dutiful brother and heir to the North, accompanied him to lend even more weight to his words, as well as keeping an eye on the untameable White Wolf. Catelyn was pacing around the room throughout Ned's explanations, muttering under her breath about irresponsible boys and how she would wring their ears and knock their heads together once she got hold of them. Ned got up and went to her. He wrapped his arms around her and nudged her neck.

"Now, how about I show you how much I have missed my wife?"

Catelyn moaned against his chest, still, she pushed back against him and gave him a mock glare, "Don't think you are out of the woods yet, husband. If I hear that they got into some danger because you didn't stop them beforehand, you would be sleeping with the horses for the foreseeable future."

Ned chuckled and lowered his head to capture her lips with his own.

[CotW]

Ned immersed himself into the drudgery of life at Winterfell. He preferred the peace to the excitement and violence of battles, thank you very much. Each morning, he would get up from the warm embrace of his beautiful wife. He would then go to the Godswood to pray to the Gods. Sometimes, he would observe how his girls were advancing with their training. He was still amazed at the closeness Sansa and Arya showed nowadays. The sisterly spats were always there, but they had started to appreciate the other, Arya even dragged Sansa to some of her mischiefs, much to Cat's consternation. After breaking his fast, he would go to his solar to take care of the parchment, a lord's work never ends – he thought sometimes. In the afternoons, he would observe how Bran was progressing with his training before sitting down at the Great Hall to hold court and hear the pleas and complaints of his people. Maester Luwin and Cat would be there to provide their help. Then a peaceful supper with family and retiring for the day. The Quiet Wolf loved the quietness of his home life.

It had been a couple of weeks since he had returned home. He was sitting at the solar answering to the missives from his lords. Many of them had started to make subtle plays for betrothals of Robb, Sansa and Jon. The lords were very impressed by Jon's prowess on the battlefield and his ability to lead men. He even heard rumours about how Jon was the son of Brandon instead of his get because he was as fierce as Brandon was. The Honourable Ned Stark didn't want to sully his dead brother's name and claimed the boy to be his own. Ned thought what they would think if they somehow came to know about Jon's parentage. He was checking the ledgers for the expenditures of the month when Maester Luwin knocked on the doors of his solar.

"Pardon me, My Lord, but there was a raven from the Wall for you."

Ned took the rolled-up parchment from the Maester's hand and broke the seal. He sat down heavily on his chair after he had read the note. Robb and Jon went beyond the wall with Benjen. What the fuck was going in the heads of those two? How could Benjen allow them to step a foot beyond the Wall? Hadn't Robb insisted that he would keep a watch on his brother, then why would he go along with this instead of dragging him back home as he ordered him to do? He was massaging his temple; he could feel a headache had started to settle in. Those two boys would be in a world of pain when they return. Suddenly, he sat straight in his chair, what was he to tell his wife? A chill ran down his spine.

*Line Break*

They had been on their way again, trekking through the snow. They had left Craster's Keep behind a week ago. Benjen had a hard time keeping everyone calm. The men he had not worried about since the Stark men would listen to the orders given by a Stark, even a Stark wearing the blacks. It was his nephews that he didn't allow to leave his sides for the duration of their stay at Craster's. He told them to keep their heads down when the daughter-wives of the repulsive man offered them food. Craster had trained his beady, little eyes on them, making comments to provoke any reaction out of them. When they left the homestead at the dawn of the next day, both Robb and Jon had exploded in righteous anger. They were intelligent, they had understood what Craster meant by his wives by observing the similarities between the poor women and girls that who they were. When they explained it to the others that Craster forced his daughters to marry him and then beget more children by them, all of them had wanted to go back and raze his home to the ground while stringing the vile man on a Weirwood tree and offering his entrails to the Old Gods like in the old times. Benjen had a new appreciation for his brother Ned because of his ability to calm down an enraged mass and make his voice heard. He told them about how Craster's was a resting point for the rangers beyond the wall. They went there to restock their supplies and to get information about wildling tribes. The Watch knew about his practices and his link with the tribes, still, they tended to overlook it all for the sake of the argument 'lesser of two evils' and had an unspoken deal with the man. He could see that the young men were not mollified, but they didn't raise any other objections afterwards.

Benjen was riding at the head of the party, flanked by his nephews and their friends. The arduous, long journey wasn't seemed to be that much of a hardship because of the bantering duo that was Jon and Asher. Their constant bickering was a regular source of entertainment for the men.

After riding quietly for a while, Asher let out a long and drawn-out sigh, "Who would have thought that making friends with Jon will cost me my balls. They are already frozen and about to fall off."

Jon replied from the other side with a smirk, "Do you even have balls? I thought otherwise."

Asher hunched forward to peer around the others to Jon, "How would you know? Did you grope me? Have you taken advantage of me while I was asleep?"

Jon snorted, "Is that you admitting in a roundabout way that you truly have a cunt?"

Robb didn't pay mind to those inane bantering, he nudged Benjen and asked, "Where are we now, Uncle Ben?"

Benjen looked around him and pointed far to the left, "You see that hill over there beyond the trees, that looks like as if a fist was rising out of the ground? That is the Fist of the First Men. I think we have reached the place where we are supposed to come." He looked towards Jon.

Jon had heard his uncle's words, he had turned serious in an instant. He kept turning his head in every direction as if to find a specific spot. "Keep your eyes peeled for a wooded hill, there would be a Weirwood tree at the summit. You can't miss it."

Torrhen pointed out to their right, "You mean the tree Gale is sitting upon?"

Jon turned to look and saw that Gale was indeed sitting on a branch of the Weirwood tree atop the hill, looking down at them imperiously. He gave out an ear-to-ear smile, "Aye, Torrhen, that is exactly it."

They spurred their horses and went up the hill with a few difficulties. Soon they had reached the tree and got down from their rides. Jon went up to the tree and touched its trunk with his eyes closed.

Benjen watched for a few minutes as his nephew seemed to be praying to the tree. He called out, "Jon?"

Jon turned around and said, "We are here, Uncle Benjen. Tell the men to make camp here, I will see you all in a while. I am going to find a cave."

Robb jumped up and blocked his path, "Oh no, you don't. You are not going anywhere alone. We are coming with you."

Jon stared hard at him, "Robb, this is not some merry trip that we are all going together. I am here for a specific reason."

Robb returned his stare with equal force, "Exactly, brother. This is not a merry trip. We don't know if there are any hidden dangers in this cave of yours. We will be watching your back. If you want, the men will remain here, but we are coming with you." He pointed at himself and at Asher and Torrhen, both of whom adjusted their gears with resolute looks about them.

"Not only them, nephew, I will also be coming with you. I am answerable to your parents after all." Benjen interjected.

Jon let out a frustrated sigh, "Fine, you all can come with me!"

"We were not asking for your permission, Snow." Robb said with a smirk, "Now, let's find your cave."

They were searching for a while when Jon spotted the entrance to the cave, it was hidden behind shrubbery, if he didn't know of its existence, he would have overlooked it. He called for the others. Each of them lit a torch and went into the dark cave. Jon was at the front, sword at the ready in his right hand, and a torch held above head in his left. They carefully advanced farther in a single file, Jon was followed by Robb, Asher and Torrhen, with Benjen bringing the rear and watching their backs. They didn't know how many turns they took. The tunnel seemed to be a never-ending one, hewn out of soil and rocks. White roots of the tree above were dangling from the ceiling, surprisingly, the musty scent that was expected in such a deep tunnelling cave was absent. Instead, they could smell the scents of flower, grass and something that reminded them of rain. After walking for a long time, they finally reached an area large enough to be called a hall. Numerous tunnels other than the one they have been following had honeycombed the area. They stepped into the hall and were looking around to the network of tunnels with wonder in their eyes.

"Now, which way are we supposed to go? Or is this it?" Robb asked Jon.

He too was looking around for any sign for him to indicate that he had reached his destination. "I don't know. All I have been told was to come to the hill and find this c…" his words died in his mouth, a sound of shuffling feet came from ahead of them. They all stood shoulder to shoulder and raised their swords, only to be shocked by the appearance of a being not taller than of a child. They had green-tinted, rough-looking skin like the berk of a tree, large doe-like green eyes, green hair on their head. The being raised their arms in the air as a sign of submission, they had four fingers in each hand, and said in a very childlike voice-

"Kalm, kinder ór menn. Ungrrinn khampion var köllumk. Eru þú hann?" (Peace, children of men. The young champion was called. Are you him?)

They looked at each other's shocked faces, Jon took a step forward, "Já, Ek em ungrinn khampion. Ek var köllumk hí með minn fǫðurbróðir." (Aye, I am the young champion. I was called here by my uncle.)

The being nodded their head, they waved their hand for them to follow, "Komþár, hrafnrinn er waiting fyrir þú" (Come then, the raven is waiting for you.)

The being gone within a blink of an eye. The five of them stood rooted to their spots.

"That was a fucking Child of the Forest!" Robb yelled out.

"Aye, and they wanted us to follow them." Jon said solemnly.

"How the fuck are you so calm, Jon? We just saw a myth come to life!" Robb had started to panic. If they were not in that situation, they would have found that funny.

"Simmer down, brother. No need to get your blood up yet. And I am calm because I don't think this is the end of surprises that await us down here. I promise I will also lose my mind along with you when we get out of here."

"That was Old Tongue, Jon, I understood only a few words of it, not all. Where did you learn it?" Benjen asked.

"Old Nan taught me. She used to sing to me about the Children of the Forest, tell stories from the Northern folklore. I asked her to teach me the tongue of the North."

"Why didn't she taught me?" Robb was indignant.

"She tried to, but by then Greyjoy had arrived at Winterfell." Jon gave him a pointed look. Robb had the decency to look ashamed. He knew how he acted along with the Squid-ward.

"Aren't we supposed to follow the Child?" Asher said in a trembling voice.

"Aye, but how are we to follow? They vanished too fast for us to catch up."

As if summoned by the sound of their name, the mythical being once again appeared out of the darkness in front of them.

"Koma, koma, hrafnrinn villir til meet." (Come, come, the raven wants to meet.)

"Apologr, en megþúr líðminnir fastr? vér erum eigi sem fastr sem þú eru." (Sorry, but can you go a little slower? We are not as fast as you are.)

The Child smiled at them, they nodded and waved their hand for them to follow, and turned around to walk slowly farther into the cave.

Jon said, "Come on then, let us continue."

The Child kept looking back at them over their shoulder and gave them a wide smile each time. They acted like they were very glad to have guests at their home. They led Jon and the others to another larger cavern. It was darker than the rest of the tunnel they had travelled. Even the torches in their hand couldn't chase away all the darkness of the cave. The Child clapped their hands once and motioned their hands in an outwards swipe as if spreading the energy from their hands. Shockingly, torches came to life all along the walls of the cave. The sudden brightness made the five avert their eyes.

"Heil hrafn, khampionrinn er hí til sjá þú." (Greetings, Raven. The Champion is here to see you.)

A raspy voice sounded from the centre of the cave, "Ek thank þú, logr. Let mik sjá minn kind." (I thank you, River, let me see my family.)

With their eyes adjust in the light, the five were looking about the cave. They stifled their gasps when their eyes found the speaker. Right at the middle of the cave, there were roots of the Weirwood tree that formed a throne-like seat. Sat on that throne was a very old man. The roots have half entwined him within themselves, one such root even went inside of his empty left eye socket. They were shocked by the grisly sight, wondering if they should help the old man. Jon took a step towards the man. Robb tried to grab his shoulder but he shook him off. On his way to the throne, Jon turned to the child and bowed his head.

"Þú hafminnr thanks, gamall einn." (You have my thanks, ancient one.)

The Child gave him a big smile and waved him on. Jon went nearer to the throne and greeted the old man.

"You don't look so good, Uncle."

Bloodraven gave the same bark like laughter as from the dream. "How true, nephew. Thank you for visiting me."

"You didn't leave me much choice, did you, Uncle? You have no idea how much grovelling I had to do for them to let me come this far beyond the Wall."

"Yes, you are truly blessed to have such loyal family and friends." Bloodraven turned his eye towards Jon's companions, "They don't appear to be very happy being here."

Jon turned around to see that Benjen, Robb, Asher and Torrhen were gripping their blades tightly and looking about the throne of roots as if contemplating the easiest way to rescue the old man and Jon from the cave.

"Be at ease, lads. No need to worry. Uncle Ben, everything is alright." Jon tried to reassure them.

"I am sure they will be fine, nephew. But I am afraid that the time is rather short and you need to proceed."

Jon nodded, "Tell me, Uncle, what I must do."

"You need to meet the beings far older and wiser than us, nephew. I can guide you some of the ways, but you must complete the journey on your own." Bloodraven motioned with his hand, "Leggjpaster, inn leaf." (Bring the paste, Leaf.)

Jon hadn't noticed that more Children had filled into the cave and standing close to the walls. One of them came forward carrying a small pot in their hands. It was full of red looking paste.

"What is it, Uncle?" Jon sniffed at it, it was giving a strange intoxicating smell.

"A paste made from Weirwood leaves, seeds and sap. They will help you to truly open your eyes."

"Jon, no!" Robb shouted from behind. Jon turned to see Robb and the others were trying to reach him, but some of the Children were standing in their way with spears raised.

"Worry not, brother. I am not in any kind of danger here, trust me."

Bloodraven gave him a crooked smile, "Indeed, nephew, but first, you need to come out from behind the shell you have been hiding into and embrace your true self. If you do not appear to be true to yourself, you cannot interpret the truth of the world. You must proclaim your birthright before you venture on."

Jon looked incredulously at Bloodraven, he couldn't be serious, could he? Did he need to speak out loud about his true name and parentage? But the old man didn't appear to be anything but serious, he was looking expectantly towards him. Jon turned around to look at his companions, they were looking at him with wide eyes, restrained somewhat by the Children, no wonder thinking what they were talking about. His eyes fell on to his Uncle Benjen, he too was looking at everything with wide eyes. For so long he had been a ranger for the Watch, yet he never encountered something like this in his entire life. Jon looked into his eyes as if trying to ask his permission silently. Benjen lowered his head for a few moments, then he looked back at Jon and nodded his head. Jon let out a deep, resigned sigh. This was it, now even his friends would come to know about his secret. He took another glance at them and turned towards Bloodraven once more, his back straight. He cleared his throat and began to speak in a loud voice –

"My true name is Aemon Targaryen! I am the trueborn son of Prince Rhaeger and Princess Lyanna Targaryen of House Stark! I am their Song of Ice and Fire! I am the blood of both the wolf and the dragon!"

Bloodraven had a soft smile on his face, he indicated for him to eat the paste. Jon scooped a handful to his mouth and gulped it down. When the bittersweet paste touched his tongue, he started to feel lightheaded. He finished eating and looked at Bloodraven askance.

"Come closer to the roots and grab hold on to them, Aemon."

Jon nodded and went forward to grip onto the thickest root Bloodraven had indicated, the moment he came into contact with the root, his world exploded in a bright white flash of light. He had lost all of his outward senses.

[CotW]

"JON!" Robb shouted out his name as he saw him collapsing beside the throne of roots. He tried to move forward but he couldn't. Looking down, he found that thick strands of roots had grown out of the ground and snared their feet to their places. He glared at the Children, they didn't appear to be much concerned.

"Release us!" Robb snarled.

"Peace, young Robb Stark. We do not mean you any harm." The old man said.

"Who the fuck are you? What have you done to my brother?" Or is it cousin – a thought arose at the back of his mind.

"Please excuse my nephew for not introducing us properly. As you have witnessed, he had things of much more import in his mind." The old man made a gesture towards Jon, "My name was once Brynden Rivers, I was also known by the name of Lord Bloodraven. Former Hand of two Kings, former Lord Commander of the Watch, and currently an observer of all that was, will be and could have been."

He watched as they were struggling to get free from their binds. "If you are released, do you give your word that you will not attack us?"

"That is yet to be seen, old man, release us now." Robb growled.

"Your word, young Stark, else enjoy being stuck where you stand."

"You have our words." Benjen spoke out. Robb turned his head to look at him, Benjen gave him a reassuring nod. Robb looked back at the man called Bloodraven.

"Aye, you have our words."

"Very well, Rain, let þau líða."

A Child said something in a high pitched voice and made gestures with their hands. The roots slackened and released them from their binds. They rushed towards Jon.

"Do not move him or make him release his grip from the root."

"What happened to him?" Robb was almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Worry not, he is fine. He is just going on a trip to meet some people."

"Who? And how is he lying down here unconscious helps in anything?" Benjen had sat down beside Jon and gently put his head on his lap.

"That is a mystery even to me, Benjen Stark. For I am not but a guide for our young nephew. I can only show him the way, but cannot go along with him. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go and make sure Aemon finds his way. Perhaps you can tell the lads about our nephew in the meantime?" Bloodraven sat back in his seat and the colour of his working eye turned from purple to white. Some of the Children came forward and stood before the throne. As if they were guarding the old man while he appeared to be gone in some sort of trance.

"What in the name of seven hells is going on, Uncle Ben?" Robb was still scared out of his wits.

"Calm down, nephew, Maester Aemon had warned me that something like this might happen when he learned that Jon was coming here to meet with Bloodraven." Benjen tried to ease their minds.

Robb put a hand on Jon's forehead. "I am so very confused about everything…what he said…about who he was…is it all true?" Robb looked at his uncle, begging him to deny it all.

Asher cleared his throat, "Torrhen and I shall wait outside of this room, this is between you two."

Benjen stopped them, "No, please stay, Asher, Torrhen. You are his friends. He would want you to know. But you must promise me that whatever is discussed here, will not leave this cave. You must not tell any of these to another soul unless Jon himself gives permission. It is indeed a matter of life and death and possible war."

They all agreed to abide by his request. Benjen leaned on the roots behind him, "Mind you, I have not had any idea about these myself. I came to know only when Jon spoke to me of finding the truth about his mother…"

*Line Break*

Once again, Jon found himself waking up in a strange place. But this one was nothing like the previous place he had woken up to. Where ever he looked, he could only see whiteness. No sky, no trees, not even grounds. Only seemingly endless whiteness surrounded him. He took a few steps, he couldn't even see footprints of his own on what he thought was the ground. He would have lost his mind, if not the scenery started to change in front of his eyes.

Smoke began to pour out from somewhere. He tried to look for the source, but his attention was diverted when the thick smokes started to take shapes. He saw a big direwolf prowling around what Jon assumed was its home. It had six pups waddling around its legs. A gust of wind blew through them and the pups all scattered. One of them, the white one, started to travel further alone, away from its pack. The adult wolf took two of the pups along with it and started to go another way. The rest of the three remained where they were. One of them seemed to have had hurt its legs, it couldn't get up on its own. The adult wolf found itself to be ambushed by what seemed to be lions made out of shadows. It tried to protect the pups, but the lions jumped on him altogether and tore it to the shreds. One of the pups, a brown coloured one, ran and hid. But the other pup, the one with the red coloured fur, wasn't that lucky. The lions grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and carried it with them. The brown pup hid further in the shadows and disappeared from the sights of those figures. The red pup was left at the mercies of the lions, they would chase it, bit it, turned it into their playthings till the pup became lifeless and just laid there as if breathing out its last.

The other pups, the ones who were left behind, were being looked after by the biggest one, the grey coloured pup took care of the lame pup and the wild black pup. But when the adult wolf was being hunted down, it howled to the sky and ran forward to its parent, leaving the smaller pups behind. Thick tendrils of smoke, which seemed like tentacles of some sort, tried to grab for them. But the pups evaded all and escaped in opposite direction. The lame pup seemed to be carried in the arms of a giant. The grey pup got itself surrounded by men wielding sharp blades. They attacked it without mercy and severed its head. The small black pup hid in a hole and didn't come out. The lame pup started to convulse in the giant's hands and had shed its furs, it had sprouted black wings and turned into a giant raven.

The red pup was dragged all over the place, finally, it was brought to where it once left from, a smokey shape had taken a blade and sheared the furs off of it, leaving it once again beaten and bloody.

The white pup had carried on alone all through this, it had hunted and roamed on its own. It had grown to be even bigger than its parent. But it was set upon by a murder of crows. Their endless numbers had pecked and scratched it with their sharp beaks and talons till the white wolf lay there bleeding to death. Once the crows left the dead wolf, it had caught fire. Out of the flames, it came as it had been, fierce and strong. The red wolf had found its way to the white wolf by then, the white one licked the wounds of the red one and tried to nurse it back to health. Together, they ran to save the black wolf who had been caught by some figures, they tried to reach for their packmate, but the black wolf was not so lucky to avoid the blades. The duo tore through the figures and started to prowl their place of origin. The brown wolf had found its way to them by then, bearing numerous cuts and scratches all over its body. The lame wolf turned raven flew overhead and started to caw with ominous effect. Cold and ice started to form around them, they were boxed in and were about to die when a dragon flew in and breathed fire on the chunks of ice to melt them, rescuing the wolves. When all was settled again, the dragon seemed to have lost its mind and started burning everything in its vicinity. The white wolf sprouted leathery, dragon-like wings from its back and flew up to confront the dragon. It tore through the dragon's throat with its powerful jaw. The raven was sitting high above by then where the lions once roamed. The red wolf sat tall at their birthplace, the brown one once again slunk into the shadows, and the white wolf, it had lost its wings in the fight with the dragon, was once again drove away by shadowy figures to prowl alone.

Jon was overwhelmed by what he saw. He was sure that the white wolf was him. But the others, could they be the other Starks? His Uncle Ned, dead. the grey pup, clearly Robb, also dead. The red wolf, Sansa, tortured almost to death. Arya, the brown wolf, lost in the world. Baby Rickon, dead. And Bran, the sweet summer child, turned into something he was not. He didn't know when he got down to his knees. The immense weight of sadness was unbearable for him.

"Excuse my tardiness, nephew, your cousin and friends were in quite a hostile mood." Bloodraven arrived out of nowhere. He saw that Jon was kneeling on the ground with tears streaming down his cheeks. He could see the remnants of the scenes that Jon had seen. He placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Get yourself up, Aemon, don't let these break you so."

"What were these things, Uncle Brynden, were they the destiny that you spoke of? Is this what written for all our fates?"

Bloodraven helped Jon up on his feet, "What you saw in those visions, were things that could be. Some of them may come true, some may not. For your mere presence here has altered the path of fate's wheel."

Jon wiped the tears away, "I swear to you here and now uncle, I will not let my family suffer these fates. I will protect them, my uncles, cousins, every one of them."

Bloodraven peered down at him. "What about your other family, Aemon? Will you let one part of your family to ruins to save the other part? You are as much a dragon as you are a wolf, don't you remember?"

Jon was lost for words. He remembered seeing the white wolf attacking a dragon. Who could that be? Viserys? Daenerys? Could he truly let the dragons suffer just to save the wolves?

He lowered his gaze towards the ground, "I don't know, Uncle. What should I do?" He pleaded to Bloodraven.

He put a hand on his shoulder, "Do your duty, Aemon. Do your duty to your family, to your land, and its people. That is what I dedicated my entire life to, and that is all I can say to you."

Jon just wanted to seat at a corner with his head down. He was feeling as if all of his strength had left his body. Bloodraven pulled him by his shoulder and they began to walk. Jon didn't even take notice when a path formed upon the unending white ground. He just kept his head down and walked wherever Bloodraven led him.

"This is as far as I can go with you, Aemon. The rest of the path you have to travel on your own."

Jon looked up to see that they had reached the gates to some city. Huge walls made of white marble stood proud, probably protecting it from all sides. Guards wearing armours patrolling on top of them. They were standing in front of a huge gate made of wood and iron. The enormous thing must take at least a dozen men to push and pull it.

"What is this place?" Jon never heard or read of the existence of such a city, not even in Essos.

"I can't tell you that, nephew, because I don't know the answer myself. All I was told was to lead you here."

"You were told? By whom?"

"You will find out, Aemon. Just go inside of this city." Bloodraven bent down to put his head closer to Jon's, he put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Do not fret over what you saw back there. The future is not written in stone…yet. You have the power to change it. You are the Chosen One, Aemon. You are blessed to bring about changes all around you."

"Am I worthy enough to carry such a burden?" Jon chocked down a sob, the images of the massacre still hung heavy on his soul.

"How will you know if you don't make an effort?" Bloodraven gave him a soft smile and another squeeze of the shoulder. Then he turned around to leave. But instead of walking away, his figure slowly faded from view.

Jon took a deep breath and turned towards the gate. Now, how could he make his presence known? Should he yell or knock on the doors? He raised a hand to touch it, and to his shock, the gates opened on their own.

*Line Break*

Aurick had gone out to hunt for food. Their clan had camped not so far away from the Children's tree. He was sitting on top of a tree and watching over his traps when he heard sounds of men and horses. He almost fell from his perch in shock when quite a big group of men came riding for the Children's tree. They made camp underneath it and some of them went searching around the hilltop. He quietly got down from his tree and ran for his camp as silently as he could. If those men came to know about his presence, he would not live to see the next morning. He needed to tell Tormund about these men. They didn't look like the fucking crows, but they were led by one and they were armed to the teeth. If the lords from the south were sending men north of the Wall, then his clan leader must know about them.

What seemed to him like after hours of running, he burst through the camp boundaries and collapsed in front of the leader's tent in exhaustion. A woman who was sitting nearby working on a rabbit pelt, stoop up and came to him.

"What happen'd ta ye?"

Aurick was out of his breath, he just lay down there panting hard, "Call…Tormund…men…with swords…crow…" The woman looked alarmed by what she heard. She hurried inside the tent to inform their leader.

Tormund, the giant of a man with wild red hair and beard, came rushing out of the tent, hefting his heavy axe over his shoulder. He grabbed Aurick by his leather and yanked him off the ground to make him stand.

"What are ye talkin' about crows?" He growled at him.

"I was out huntin' when I heard voices. Saw buncha men ridin' horses. They came fer the Children's tree."

Tormund yelled for his men to get ready and go hunting for some crows when Mara, the spearwife who came bearing news from Mance Rayder with her band, stopped him.

"Hear him out fully before ye rush off with yer cocks hangin' about." She turned towards Aurick, "How many crows did ye see?"

"They ain't no crow. They be Southorn men. From beyond the Wall. An' a crow leadin' them."

The leaders exchanged looks, men from south of the wall coming this far north?

"How many did ye see?"

"' Bout fifty of 'em. They'll carried steel swords and armour."

Mara dragged Tormund to a side, they needed to go about this with calmer heads.

"What ye on, woman?" Tormund yelled indignantly.

"Use yer head, ye fuckin' auroch. Ye heard that they ain't no crow. What do the lords of south be wantin' out here? We canna be attackin' 'em. They'll kill us all."

Tormund mulled these things in his mind, "What we ter do then?"

"We go an' keep watch. Mance woulda wanna know fer sure."

Tormund called for his most able hunters and trackers, they got ready to go out and keep watch at these lords' men.

*Line Break*

Jon was walking on a paved path of such quality that he wouldn't even dream of it. The houses on both sides of the path were so grand and luxurious, that they would put shame to the keeps of the wealthiest of lords. Beautiful people were roaming about the city, Jon had heard that those of Valyrian looks have otherworldly beauty. But the men and women he was seeing around him, possessed more ethereal beauty than of the Valyrians. He constantly craned his neck this way and that, trying to absorb it all. He didn't know where he was supposed to go. But an urge from deep inside of his being pushed him to follow a certain path. He gave in to that feeling of his and continued, looking about the happy faces of pretty people.

Jon found himself standing before a palatial manse. He wondered if the gates would open on their own as the city gates did. He approached the doors and heard a gong of a bell loud enough to reverberate to his bones. Once again, the doors opened on their own. Jon went inside after sending a prayer to the Old Gods.

He was lost for words, standing before him a woman, he hadn't seen anybody in his life who could match her beauty. She was wearing a flowing dress made of some gossamer material, showing off her womanly curves, her long black hair was braided with what Jon thought chains of gold beads. She gave him a beautiful smile, and spoke in a lilting voice –

"Welcome, Champion."

Jon shook himself off the stupor he was feeling and bowed low to the lady.

"Pardon me, My Lady, but I was directed here…"

"Yes, Champion, I know why you are here. For it was I who asked your ancestor to guide you here."

"Forgive me for asking, but who are you, My Lady?"

"I was once known as Minerva, and for who I am, I am one of those who you call the Old Gods."

Jon felt as if the ground shifted under his feet. He was standing before a Goddess? He crashed down on his knees, bowed from the waist down, his head almost touching the feet of the Goddess.

"Please get up, Champion. You don't need to bow to me."

Reluctantly, Jon got up to his feet, he was wondering what he should be saying but nothing came to his mind. What does one speak of in front of a higher being?

"Come, take a walk with me, Champion."

"Pardon me, My Lady, are you truly one of the Old Gods?"

"Yes, Champion. We were here in this world long before any other beings. We were referred to as the Ancient Ones. We have been long gone from this world, my child. What you see before you, the city, the people, even I – all are a faint echo of our essence. We have created you, humans, after images of our own. Some of us, like Vulcan, who liked to tinker, managed to create the beings you know as the Children of the Forest. We created you and placed you in the world as you know. Why you may ask. For beings such as us, we needed to find something to take our minds off the tedium of our lives. Humans were like small children, running about and getting into troubles and fights. We created calamities, disasters, just to see what they would do. The early humans began to worship us, they gave us names of their own choosing. People of old Valyria called us Arrax for Jupiter, Aegarax for Vulcan, Balerion for Pluto, Tyraxes for myself, Minerva, so on and so forth. The Andals dreamt of us as the Seven – Jupiter as Father, Juno for Mother, Diana as the Maiden, Mars as Warrior, Vulcan as Smith, Pluto as the Stranger and finally, Vesta and I together embodied the Crone. The Children were such simple creatures, they just carved out faces in trees and collectively began to worship us simply as Gods. When the First Men came to the continent now known as the Westeros, they took up the religious beliefs of the Children. The Rhoynish, they too made versions of us for their own purposes. Even now, many of the Gods you may hear about, are only different names given to us by that specific cult. Thus, Vulcan became R'hllor, Pluto, the Many-Faced One."

Jon felt as if his brain was leaking out of his ears. He couldn't even imagine that the Old Gods and the New Gods to be as one. If he said something like that to any Northerner or a Septon or Septa, they will beat him to death with a stick. He couldn't help but let out a snort imagining such a scene. The Goddess looked at him, an eyebrow raised in amusement. Jon blushed and mumbled an apology. Minerva continued with her speech.

"What we didn't realize while pouring into our creations that we had given them a little more than we planned. Some of our powers, our magica if you please, were transferred into them. The Children received the most since they were special creations of Vulcan, the eccentric tinkerer. Among the humans, the Valyrians got the powers of seers, fire wielder, blood magic, beast mastery and the likes. They had learned to tame the dragons, bestial beings of pure magic. They had created an entire empire with the help of their dragon companions and their magica. The Children had gotten the powers to commune with nature and all its denizens. The Weirwood trees, these plants work as the pure focus of the innate magic that had been infused into the lands. The Children learned to use these trees to commune with us or to glimpse images of what was, what could have been and what must be. When they started to mix blood with the First Men, the already magical blood became much more potent. A prime example of this fact is the Stark family. For thousands of years, they were the Kings of Winter, powerful leaders who often were seen with direwolf familiars. Wargs, skinchangers – all of them. Even some Greenseer powers of the Children found their way through these bloodlines. The Rhoynish got their water magics. But the Andals feared these powers, and so tried to suppress them. Slowly, their blood had forgotten that they too once held such powers."

They had reached a balcony overlooking the city. The sheer beauty of it made Jon hoping that he was there in real, not just glimpsing an echo of a long-forgotten memory. The Goddess had a sad look upon her face as she was looking out to her people.

"You must be wondering why I am telling you all these. The reason for it is, we cannot help you, our children anymore. All we can do is watch you struggle from the great beyond, and it pains us. I hope you remembered when I said that we created you, humans, in our images. Like you humans, we too had our vices. We had denied it, overlooked it. But in the end, we had all faded away with time by our decadence. Only a faint echo of us remained behind, we use it to commune with the Children, the only ones who can still wield our magica, we try to guide them, help mankind in any way possible through them. But they too, are not infallible. Our powers are limited. We can hear you when you pray to us through the trees, but we are not able to help you, except in direst situations. That is where you come in, Champion. The world we had created, with the humans in it, started to degrade from what it once was. The greed, violence of those who inhabit it, had caused its corruption. Some of us had predicted that something like this would happen, and our children would require saving from follies of their own making. Juno, the Royal Mother, had commissioned a special magical artefact, I designed it myself and Vulcan made it. That is the artefact you now wear on your hands. The Bracers were designed to appear before a worthy warrior who would become our Champion whenever the world needs one. Over the ages, scores of our children had taken up the mantle of the Champion. The Last Hero from your lore, or the Azor Ahai, Yin Tar, Neferion, Hyrkoon the Hero, Eldric Shadowchaser - in other beliefs, had been one such Champion also. Now, the Bracers had chosen you, for another disaster will soon come upon mankind, and you will be needed to protect them all." Minerva turned to look at Jon expectantly.

Jon had never felt so humbled in his life. He had been given the tools that once used by heroes of old. Great men and women had been here where he was.

"What disaster are you talking about, My Lady? And how can I, a mere boy be the saviour of all? The Bracers must have chosen wrong this time."

Minerva smiled softly at him, "You doubt in your blood, Champion. Fear not, for your blood is not ordinary. Bloods of the First Men and Children along with the blood of Old Valyria are flowing in your veins. They hold unimaginable powers. Just look at your ancestor, Brynden Rivers. Never had there been such a powerful Greenseer or warg before him. And your blood is not only the blood of First Men, but the blood of Winter Kings, you are the true Song of Ice and Fire. I will help you to awaken the rest of your powers when you return to your reality.

And as for the approaching danger, you must be aware of the myth that is the Night King. He is real, Champion. Your ancestor had once driven him away, and he had been slumbering since his defeat, accumulating his powers. How he came to be, you will learn in time. But know this, the Night King, his White Walkers and the army of their undead minion will begin their march soon. You have at the very least, a decade to prepare yourselves. You need to become a leader of men, Champion, you need to see them through the coming of another Long Night."

Jon was feeling faint, the weight of the world was placed on his shoulders. He opened his mouth to ask the Goddess how he was to accomplish the tasks set for him, but he found that he couldn't make any sound. The Goddess approached him and enveloped him in an embrace.

"I understand this is too much to ask of you, Champion. But you need not worry. We, that is, the Bracers will make sure that you are ready when the time comes. They are designed to work that way. You must have realized the difference between the workings of them – when you acquired them and now. You noticed how they behave differently to you now?" Jon nodded his head. "That is how they were made. Each man or woman is different, hence, the Bracers change with the needs of each Champion. Some of the things they gave you at first will not work anymore, because you do not need them. Some new things will make themselves known as you mature with your powers."

Minerva pulled away from him and started to lead him inside once again. "Come, there is one last thing you need to know before you must return."

The Goddess had led him into a room. There were candles strewn about all over the place. Each of the candles was lit, but they didn't have flames. Instead, they were showing moving images of multiple people. Some Valyrian dragon lords flying on their dragons. Some men or women fighting against their enemies. Everywhere Jon looked, he saw a different man or woman in those images.

"These, Champion, are your forebears and the Champions that came before you. You will learn from their lives. Sometime in the future, you will start to have dreams of them, you will live their lives as they did in those dreams. Any experience you have gained in those dreams will bleed through to your being. You will assimilate all of their learnings as you grow to your title of Champion.

You must return now, Champion. Remember, do not doubt in your blood, and prepare yourselves. Oh, and before you leave, I said that I will awake your powers."

Minerva smiled and raised her right hand, the point of her index finger was shining like a star. She touched the centre of Jon's forehead with her finger. Pain flared everywhere inside of his body…

*Line Break*

Robb sat vigil beside his unconscious brother (cousin?). He still couldn't believe what his uncle had told them. The history they had grown up hearing were all lies. His father had lied to all. The true heir to the throne was raised as a bastard, ignored by all. He had acted out against him influenced by Theon's words. Shame coursed through his body when he remembered those moments, he wondered what would happen once Jon wakes up. As if triggered by his thoughts, Jon started to move about.

"Jon!" Robb yelled out, "Uncle Benjen, I think Jon is about to wake up."

Benjen, who had been talking with Bloodraven, rushed to Jon's other side. Asher and Torrhen were sleeping to the side, they woke up and stood over their prone friend, wondering what were they to do. Jon let out a strangled yelp and sat bolt upright. Robb and Benjen flinched back from him. His eyes had turned completely red, his skin had turned white as bone. He yanked at his cloak, armour and upper body clothes and divested them off him. The numerous scars that he collected – the claw marks from the bear on his chest, the scars from the Ironborn and Skagosi fights, all appeared angry red. Robb tried to hold down his thrashing brother, but the heat emanating from him made him withdraw his hands quickly. His skin was hot enough to form blisters in his fingers even through the gloves. Smoke started to rise from him. Jon tried to get up on his feet but he stumbled and crashed down on one knee. He raised his head upwards and yelled as if he was being tortured, tears of blood flowing down from his eyes.

"What is happening to him? You told us that he would be alright?" Benjen yelled at Bloodraven.

"I was told that he would not be harmed. Do you think me callous enough to endanger the last hope for my family?" Bloodraven snarled back.

With another loud yell, Jon punched the grown with his right fist. As if by the contact, he suddenly burst into flames. Everybody around him let out yelps of shock. Even the Children, who were observing from the sides, rushed forward to have a better look. Slowly, Jon got up to his feet, this time, he didn't stumble. Red and black coloured flames were running all over his body, pulsing with every breath he took. His eyes were shut and his hand fisted as if trying to control the fire, and to his disbelief, Robb saw that the flames were indeed being controlled by Jon. Slowly, they seemed to be submerged within his skin. When the fire completely died down, Jon once again stumbled and crashed down on the ground. Robb rushed to help him. His skin was back to normal, not blistering his fingers when he touched him, he was shivering from the cold. Robb snatched the discarded cloak from the floor and wrapped it tightly around Jon. His brother opened his eyes slowly as if it was an arduous task to just do that. He smiled tiredly at him.

"Jon, are you alright?"

"Aye, brother, I am feeling fine, just tired…"

Robb stopped himself from flinching when Jon called him brother. He noticed there was something different about Jon. He looked closely and let out a gasp.

"Jon, your eyes…"

"What about them?" His brows furrowed.

"They changed their colour…they are purple now…"

Jon was taken aback by that. He saw his uncle and friends were all watching him with surprised looks on their faces. Bloodraven was sitting on the edge of his seat, looking down at him with eager anticipation. The Children that thronged around them, were muttering among themselves, repeating only a single phrase - ljós leggja (Light Bringer).

"What happened to you, Jon?"

Jon looked up and peered seriously into Robb's eyes, "I met a Goddess!"