Chapter 2

*The North. Year 293 A.C.*

He looked at the dead men around him, then at his blood-stained hands.

"Your blood craves more blood," a voice echoed in his head. "You can't avoid it, yours is the fury."

A hand rested on his shoulder. He turned his head and met Howland's gaze.

"Are you alright, boy?" Howland asked gently.

"I… lost control again," Jon responded, his voice trembling. "But they… they tried to…"

Howland's expression hardened.

"They got what they deserved, boy. Don't blame yourself for this," Howland said firmly. "Come, let's go back to the stronghold."

Jon obediently followed, always looking at the ground.

"The Freys have always had animosity towards us, the people of the Neck. They've tried to claim these lands since ancient times, but they've never succeeded," Howland recounted calmly. "This incident, though bolder than others, is not unusual."

Jon remained silent, marching while closely followed by the sworn guards of House Reed.

"Meera, is she… is she alright?" Jon asked.

Howland glanced at him, without stopping.

"Yes, a bit shaken still, but fine. All thanks to you, boy. House Reed owes you a debt."

The images of the events that led him there made him clench his fists, the fury returning to him.

"Please don't do this!"

The weasel-faced man sneered.

"I've never been with a frog from what you call home, let's see if you can warm my cock with your cunt, little frog."

The men with him laughed heartily.

Jon watched with furious eyes as the men of the Neck lay dead on the ground, and Meera, with fearful eyes and tears running down her cheeks, at the mercy of those weasel men.

A roar of anger escaped his throat.

He came out of his memories when Howland started speaking, they were in the courtyard of the lord of Greywater, several hours had passed since that incident.

"Your powers are growing tremendously, more than I initially imagined," Lord Reed said. "Your strength now surpasses that of an adult man, even more, and that strength will only increase."

Jon said nothing and allowed him to continue speaking.

"I'm not a martial man, my skills lie in other areas, I can't do much in that regard. In the last few moons, I've taught you the ways of the magic of the First Men. You're a natural Warg, the most powerful I've seen in my life. I've tried to help you control your powers, but I'm afraid there's not much more I can do."

"What does that mean for me?" Jon asked in a barely audible murmur.

"I've taught you the principles of Warging, its dangers. You absorb information very quickly, Jon. In a couple of years, you'll surely be more skilled than I am," Lord Reed explained calmly. Then, with seriousness, he continued, "In a few moons from now, I'll send you to Bear Island. There, Lady Mormont can teach you to fight better than I can, and you'll also gain real battle experience, I'm sure of it. Jon, your abilities will only continue to grow, you need to learn to use them, you need to hone your fight, channel your fury in battle."

Jon clenched his hands in the fabric of his pants.

"I… I'm scared, my lord. Every time I train… every time I get angry…"

His hands began to tremble.

"Jon, look at me," Lord Reed ordered. Jon reluctantly did so. "You've only lost control to protect the people you care about, you've never hurt anyone who didn't deserve it."

Jon flinched.

"But what if I…"

"That's why I'm sending you to the Mormonts, there are no tougher people than them. There you'll learn to channel your fury. Tell me, do you want to protect the people important to you? Winter is coming, Jon. A winter like hasn't been seen in a long time, we must be ready, you must be ready. Otherwise, we're doomed."

Jon shivered, remembering his dreams, those blue eyes, that infernal cold, the death and slaughter.

"Very well, Lord Reed. I'll do as you say."

Howland smiled sadly.

"I'm sorry to put this burden on your shoulders, Jon."

Jon smiled bitterly.

"You didn't make me be born, Lord Reed."

With that, Jon Snow left the Solar.

Howland sighed sadly, hearing the caw of a raven. He looked towards the only window in the Solar, there on the sill perched a raven that looked at him with its completely white eyes.

"Are we really doing the right thing?" he asked the raven.

"Death, death, death!" 

The raven sang over and over.

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Jon found himself sitting in his room on his bed, lost in his thoughts.

"They're sending me away again," he thought bitterly.

Lord Reed tried to teach him control, showed him the ability that lay dormant in his blood, at first he thought the man was crazy when he told him he had Warg abilities.

Jon didn't believe him, it was just stories, myths from the North, but the man made him swallow his words when he demonstrated, bonding himself to a raven.

"Ravens are the easiest creatures to control, but be careful, it's just as easy to lose yourself in them,"

Lord Reed had warned him. Jon heeded his words, of course, and days later, he managed to bond with a raven, there he lost all trace of doubt in Lord Reed's claims.

He thought about the dreams he had started having since he arrived at this place. Just thinking about them made him shiver.

A couple of knocks on his door brought him out of his musings. Sighing, he wondered who it could be. He got up from the bed and went to open the door. He was a little surprised when he opened it and there stood Lord Reed's daughter.

Meera looked at him. She was a slender girl, with brown hair and green eyes. She was shorter than Jon, although they were both the same age. Her forest-green eyes looked at him. She looked nervous, Jon noticed.

"Meera," he exhaled. "What's wrong? Are you alright?" Jon asked, concerned.

Meera blushed. Jon blinked in confusion. Meera never blushed.

"I… I wanted… I wanted to thank you for saving me this morning," she said in a trembling voice.

"There's no need to thank me," Jon immediately responded. But he was taken by surprise when Meera suddenly hugged him.

Though surprised, Jon returned the hug. A warm feeling surged in him, an urge to protect the girl he was hugging was born from his being.

Howland observed from a distance, the two children embraced. He felt a heaviness in his heart with the implication of what he was witnessing, the magic sang, and Howland knew at that moment that there was nothing more he could do.

"I only hope you have a better fate than your predecessors, Jon," he murmured inaudibly.

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