The Watchman #1

Beyond the Wall, the land was shrouded in an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional gust of frigid wind. The desolation stretched as far as the eye could see, a barren landscape of snow and ice. 

Here, far from the kingdoms of Westeros, a mysterious ritual had taken place, altering the course of destiny.

Amidst the swirling snowflakes, a figure lay motionless, buried beneath a thick layer of ice and snow. A sense of otherworldly power emanated from this figure, hidden beneath the frozen cocoon. In an instant, the ice shattered, and the figure emerged, gasping for breath.

He was no ordinary being.

As the figure's consciousness slowly returned, he became aware of their new existence. His eyes, now icy blue, scanned the desolate landscape, taking in the endless expanse of snow that stretched as far as the eye could see to the north.

The memory of the ritual, fragmented and enigmatic, danced at the edge of his mind, a puzzle waiting to be unraveled. "The... the hell is going on here...?" He muttered, looking down at his hands, which were too pale, a contrast to the healthy tan he was used to seeing. 

The young man stood up, his body both familiar and foreign. He was human in form, but the chill of the ice ran through their veins. "Is this a dream...?" He muttered, trying and failing to process the situation. 

"I really ought to stop drinking too much beofre bed..." He muttered , looking down at his body and realizing he was clad in a strangely familiar black armor. As he began to move, he realized he had never felt so good in his entire life. 

He was as healthy as they came, having maintained his shape, but somehow he felt even better now, as if his body was overflowing with power. However, he didn't get to overthink his situation, nor appreciate the sensation of power for long as a loud roar echoed in the distance. 

Alarmed, he turned to investigate, his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes widened at the sight of a bear, its fur matted with snow, angrily charging toward him.

Panicking, he tried to back away, but his feet betrayed him, and he tripped, landing flat on his back. "Shit!" He exclaimed, raising his hand out of reflex to defend himself as the bear lunged at him. 

Fear coursed through him as he braced for the inevitable pain that would hopefully jolt him awake from this nightmare.

But the pain never came.

Instead, he felt a cold sensation in his outstretched hand, and a warm liquid slowly dripping on his face. His eyes snapped open, and he realized that his hand, now surrounded by a shimmering field of ice, had intercepted the bear's attack. 

The creature's jaws were mere inches from his face, teeth locked in a futile attempt to pierce the icy barrier.

He held his breath, muscles strained as he fought to maintain the frozen shield. The bear's roars turned to frustrated growls, and its thrashing became weaker with each passing moment. 

In that frozen tableau of desperation, he understood that something extraordinary had happened to him, something far beyond the realm of dreams.

Though the icy barrier gave him some reprieve, the young man still had no idea how to deal with the raging bear desperately trying to penetrate his defenses. The bear, clearly starved and driven by primal instinct, clawed and gnashed at the shimmering field of ice, its breath forming frosty clouds in the cold air.

But the sounds of clapping hoofs announced the arrival of his savior. Riding atop a black steed, a man clad in black armor and fur came galloping from the distance. Without hesitation, the man swung his blade, a gleaming steel arc through the air, and sent the bear's head flying.

The young man sighed in relief as the bear's lifeless body crumpled to the ground. "Thank god. Man, if it weren't for you..." he began to say, attempting to get up, only to pause as he realized the tip of the rider's blade was pointed at his neck. His eyes widened, and he froze in place.

"You're not like any wildling I know of... and that magic..." The rider's voice was cold, wary. He watched the icy barrier, which had once protected the young man, turn to blue particles and dissipate into the frigid air. "Who are you...?" He asked, his grip on the sword unwavering.

The young man couldn't help but frown. "Wildling...?" he muttered, the word ringing a bell within his head. Puzzled, he stared at the rider, taking in his black armor and steed, and the icy surroundings. 

A ridiculous notion started forming in his head. "You... you wouldn't happen to be with the Night's Watch, would you...?" he asked, not quite believing such words could come out of his mouth.

The rider couldn't help but give him a puzzled look in return. "Of course, I'm with the Night's Watch. Who else would be roaming these godforsaken lands...?" he declared, his voice tinged with frustration. 

"Now tell me who you are before I lose my patience!" He added, pushing the tip of his blade closer to the young man's neck.

The young man couldn't believe what he just heard, but with the threat of the sharp sword so close to his neck, he had no choice but to swallow his confusion for now. "Eh, sure I'm...." he said, his voice trailing off as an expression of bewilderment appeared on his face. 

His brows furrowed, and he blinked in consternation. "My name is..." he went on, an awkward expression taking over his features as he realized he couldn't remember his own name.

The rider couldn't help but frown impatiently. "Out with it," he said, his tone growing more curt by the moment. His grip on the blade remained unwavering, a constant reminder of the perilous situation.

The young man couldn't help but chuckle nervously. "I can't seem to remember my name for some reason..." he said as he scratched his head in puzzlement. He felt an odd mix of frustration and embarrassment at his own memory lapse.

"Then tell me, what are you doing here? And what was that magic?" The rider asked, his gaze narrowing as he studied the bewildered young man.

The young man shook his head. 

"I really have no idea. My first memory in this world is emerging from within the ice and snow over there... then the bear came and you showed up next..." He said, gesturing toward the cocoon of ice behind him. The recollection of his strange awakening still sent shivers down his spine.

The rider stared at him for a moment, his expression a blend of suspicion and curiosity. He sighed, his grip on the sword's hilt loosening slightly. "Strangely enough... I don't detect lies in your words," he admitted, though his blade remained aimed at the young man.

The young man smiled sheepishly and gestured at the rider's blade. "Then maybe you'd be so generous as to stop pointing this thing at me... it's making me antsy..." he said, his tone light-hearted despite the dire circumstances.

The rider's response was immediate and unwavering. "No," he replied in a deadpan tone, his eyes never leaving the young man's face. "In fact, I ought to kill you. There's foul sorcery at play here, and nothing good comes from such things," he added, his voice a stark reminder of the harsh reality of the world beyond the Wall.

The young man inwardly panicked, his heart pounding like a drum, but he exerted every ounce of his willpower to remain outwardly calm. He met the rider's gaze, unwavering, as if his very life depended on it.

"You could do that... but you'll be staining your hands with the blood of an innocent..." He said, raising his hands in surrender. The palms of his hands were smooth, as unblemished as a newborn's, and he held them out for the rider to see. 

"I'm as baffled by the situation as you are... All I know is that I'm here and that I have an extraordinary power, which I can't even control..." he added, displaying his hands with a sense of vulnerability. "Just look at me. I don't even know where I am and where I came from." He implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

The rider's brow furrowed as he scrutinized the young man's hands. The smoothness of his skin did indeed seem at odds with the notion of a malevolent sorcerer or a hardened killer.

"And the strange barrier? That's no ordinary magic..." he pointed out, his skepticism still evident.

The young man shrugged, his shoulders carrying the weight of his own confusion and uncertainty. "As I've said, I don't understand it myself. All I know is that it kept me alive long enough for you to come along and save the day..." he explained, his voice tinged with sincerity.

The rider finally relented, lowering his sword slightly. "I still detect no liers in your words, but your story is too convenient..." He said, his tone hesitant.

"I'm only asking you to trust me for now," the young man replied, slowly rising to his feet. "If you think I'm a threat, it won't be too late to cut me down later. Just... just let me figure this out before you make a decision..."

The rider gave the young man a reluctant nod, sheathing his blade. "Very well. For now, I won't kill you..." he conceded. "But you'll come with me to Castle Black, and you'll be under constant watch until we understand what's happening..."

...

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