In the Shadow of the Frostfang Mountains #2

Kneeling beside the shore of a frozen lake, the young man scooped a handful of icy water and washed his face, the water slipping between his fingers and dripping back into the lake. The water was freezing, and the atmosphere was chilling, yet the young man felt strangely at home in this unforgiving environment.

Even the reflection of his face, which stared back at him on the lake's surface, rippling with the movement of the water, seemed to meld with the surroundings. 

His eyes had an eerie blue glow, like glacial ice illuminated by moonlight, and his skin was pale, almost sickly pale, resembling the stark winter landscape. His long, black hair cascaded down his back. It had a graying shade as it framed his face, adding to his strange appearance. 

In this desolate wilderness beyond the Wall, he seemed to fit perfectly. Yet, despite the strangeness of his existence, he had a certain grace about him as he knelt there, his presence harmonizing with the frozen atmosphere. 

As he turned to face the rider, who was huddled near the fire, his body shaking slightly due to the cold, the uniqueness of his existence was further emphasized. The young man scratched his head and hesitated momentarily before approaching his travel companion.

"So... I still didn't get your name..." He said as he settled near the bonfire, the flames casting flickering shadows on his pale, almost ethereal skin. He frowned slightly, finding the warm presence of the fire discomforting.

The rider turned to him and removed the cloth covering his face and nose, followed by the hood covering his head. His face was pale from the cold, and his long, dark hair framed his weathered features. A thick beard covered his jawline.

"The name's Benjen Stark, lad. First ranger of the Night's Watch," Benjen introduced himself, his voice carrying the weight of his position.

The young man's eyes widened in recognition for a fleeting moment, having watched Game of Thrones and knowing the significance of the name Stark. But he quickly regained his calm demeanor.

"And may I ask what the First Ranger is doing so deep beyond the Wall all on his own...?" He cautiously inquired.

Benjen shrugged, his expression grim. "We received reports of White Walker sightings. The Lord Commander sent me to investigate alongside two veteran rangers..." He paused, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. "They didn't make it," he added with a heavy sigh.

"White Walkers?" The young man inquired, though he was already aware of their existence from his knowledge of Game of Thrones. 

He asked, hoping Benjen might reveal information that could indicate the current timeline or something relating to his surprising circumstances if nothing else.

"Humanoids with eyes as blue as the ice, skins pale as snow, capable of calling forth blizzards and raising the dead to serve them, or so the legend says..." Benjen said, his gaze unwavering as he looked straight into the young man's icy blue eyes.

The young man's already pale face seemed to grow even paler at those words. He couldn't deny the unsettling familiarity of the description. "That... that sounds awfully familiar..." he said, his voice tinged with unease.

Benjen mustered up a weary smile. "You're no White Walker, lad. This, I know for certain, though what you truly are—I don't know," he admitted, shaking his head. "Our meeting can't have been a coincidence—it must be the Old Gods at work," he added, his tone holding a hint of reverence.

"Gods, huh...?" The young man said with a sigh, his breath visible in the frigid air. He had not been a man of faith in his past life, though he had always strived to do good whenever possible. 

However, he was now in a world where dragons, undead, and magic existed, and the gods had a tangible presence. Even he had to admit that his circumstances couldn't have been borne from something that science could explain.

"In any case, we've wasted enough time dallying about..." Benjen said as he covered his face with his scarf, obscuring his features against the biting cold, and stood up. "Castle Black is still a long way away. We need to keep moving," he added, his boots crunching in the snow as he began kicking snow into the dying bonfire.

The young man nodded in agreement, his breath forming frosty clouds in the frigid air. "Alright..." he replied as he followed suit, helping to extinguish the fire.

"Right behind you..." he added, his gaze fixed on Benjen as the First Ranger took the reins of his horse and started walking away, his footsteps producing crisp thuds as he traversed the snowy landscape. 

...

It had been two days of nonstop traveling, and though the journey had taken its toll on Benjen, the young man remained as energetic as ever despite eating and sleeping less than the First Ranger. 

The frigid atmosphere seemed to invigorate him, granting him the strength to continue their trek toward Castle Black without displaying any signs of fatigue.

As the two of them traversed an open snowy expanse, the young man's gaze was captivated by a formidable mountain range in the distance. Its icy peaks rose majestically against the gray sky, a vision of both beauty and danger.

Benjen followed the young man's gaze and quickly issued a solemn warning. "Those are the Frostfang Mountains. Every ranger knows to steer clear of them unless they want to encounter the Thenn..." His voice carried the weight of experience.

The young man's brow furrowed as he found the name, Thenn, ringing a distant bell in his memory. "The Thenn?" he inquired, curiosity tingeing his voice.

Benjen nodded, his gaze never wavering as he continued walking. "A tribe of Wildlings—unlike the other groups, they're disciplined, and they know how to smith bronze," he explained, his words hinting at the Thenn's formidable capabilities. 

"What's more, they've developed a taste for human flesh, so even other Wildlings avoid them unless absolutely necessary..." He added, his tone carrying a note of caution.

"Steer clear of the mountain and the cannibals—got it," the young man said with a nod. Climbing a mountain and encountering a tribe of cannibalistic tribal savages was the last thing he wanted to do. 

"Good lad, now let's keep moving. The Haunted Forest is just ahead," Benjen said, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. "The Wildlings there are on the reasonable side, so we should be able to get some supplies before we completely run out..." he added, his gaze fixed on their path ahead.

The young man couldn't help but smile warily at the name. "It's not really haunted, is it?" he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

"Only by Wildlings, bears, wolves, the usual suspects..." Benjen replied with a chuckle, trying to ease the tension. 

"That's actually reassuring..." the young man admitted with a wry grin as the two continued their journey deeper into the harsh and unforgiving North.

...

After another half day of relentless traveling, the duo found themselves finally within the confines of the Haunted Forest, with Castle Black still a distant goal on the horizon. The sky above was darkening rapidly as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the desolate landscape.

However, Benjen knew better than to traverse the lands beyond the Wall in the dead of night. He halted their progress, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he made a decision. 

"This is as far as we go for the day... the Fist is nearby—we can make camp in its relative safety," he suggested, gesturing toward a rising hill ahead, surrounded by the eerie and dense Haunted Forest.

The hill offered commanding views of the landscape, with the slopes at a perilous angle to the north and west, and only slightly less treacherous to the east. 

A ringwall of chest-high grey stone crowned the top of the steep, stony hill, providing a semblance of protection against potential threats. At the foot of the hill, a small brook trickled by, its waters offering a vital source of fresh water.

The young man nodded in agreement, assenting to Benjen's experience as he knew nothing about the lands beyond the wall. "You're the boss," He said as he started walking in the hill's direction. 

The first ranger merely nodded at him as he started moving without delay, taking hold of his steed's reigns and followed behind the young man.