Chapter 64: The Dream

The moon and stars reflected upside down on the mirror-like sea surface, the gentle rocking of the boat like a cradle.

The soothing rhythm lulled everyone aboard into a deep sleep.

Suddenly, Samwell felt a strange call from the sky above.

In the pitch-black night, something seemed to beckon his spirit upwards.

He began to run, first at a leisurely pace, then faster and faster, his strides becoming longer. The cool sea breeze whistled past his ears, whispering faintly.

But no matter how hard he ran, the sky remained distant, impossible to reach.

Samwell halted abruptly, glancing down—

Below, he could see the vast sea reflecting the entire starry sky, and on it, a tiny ship resembling an ant.

I'm flying!

Samwell realized this all at once.

He dived sharply, skimming just above the water's surface.

Abrupt mountain ridges suddenly rose into view, with red rocks like blood-stained claws. His heart raced uncontrollably at the sight.

Swoosh!

He dove into a dense forest.

A myriad of scents washed over him: a squirrel hiding in a tree hollow, a snake coiled beneath a bush, a deer in a nearby cave, startled to attention. He felt a primal urge to hunt.

Samwell resisted, pushing forward.

The forest and hills stretched endlessly into the distance, fading into the farthest reaches of sight and smell.

The new sensations entranced him, utterly unique and mesmerizing.

The wind picked up, the trees thinned.

Suddenly, a towering weirwood appeared before him.

Its verdant leaves shaded everything, casting an almost foreboding gloom.

Then, the enormous, ancient face carved into the weirwood opened its eyes—

Boom!

Samwell awoke with a start, as if struck by lightning, jolting upright in bed.

Huff—huff—

He panted heavily, realizing he was drenched in a cold sweat.

The dream… felt unbelievably real.

Samwell tried to calm himself but found he was wide awake now.

Rising to drink some water, he then opened the cabin door and walked onto the deck.

The night was deep, only the soft sound of waves breaking against the hull reached his ears.

He strolled along the deck, replaying the dream in his mind.

As he rounded a corner, he noticed someone standing by the railing—

It was Natalie.

The young girl leaned over the edge, gazing up at the crescent moon, the starlight outlining her delicate features.

"Can't sleep?" Samwell asked as he approached.

Natalie looked over, saw him, and immediately turned her head away with a small huff.

"Oh? Still upset about yesterday?"

She huffed again, clearly not intending to acknowledge the annoying man beside her.

"Do you know why I didn't bring you to visit House Dayne's castle?"

This time, she didn't respond, but he could sense her curiosity.

She wanted to know the reason but was too proud to ask.

"It's because you're too beautiful." Samwell said, smiling.

He knew a thing or two about placating women.

Sure enough, Natalie froze, quickly sneaking a glance at him before turning away.

"Liar."

"As a knight, I don't lie." Samwell said with a straight face, despite the blatant lie.

A faint blush crept over Natalie's cheeks, and she turned to him, shyly asking,

"But why can't I enter the castle if I'm too beautiful?"

"Why do you and your mother always wear veils?"

"To hide from the stares of men…" she trailed off, realizing his point, then pouted, "But I could have worn my veil to follow you."

"That would be rude." Samwell shook his head. "Besides, what right do you have to wear a veil in front of the lords of House Dayne? Do you think you're a princess?"

Looking hurt, Natalie lowered her head but knew he had a point, so she said nothing more.

Yet, strangely, a sweetness arose within her.

He's worried House Dayne would take me away… could it be…

No!

He's a nobleman, and I'm a wildling; we could never be together!

Well… maybe… I heard there was once a noble who loved a wildling woman…

Natalie's heart swirled with a mix of joy, shyness, and worry.

Unaware of the little drama he had unwittingly sparked in her mind, Samwell continued gazing toward the shore.

"By the way, have you or anyone from your Crow's tribe ever been over there?" He gestured toward the shoreline.

"Hmm?" Lost in her imaginings, Natalie took a moment to react.

"Aren't you followers of the Old Gods? Do you know of a forest in that direction with a giant weirwood tree? One with a carved face? Did your tribe make it?"

Natalie looked out in the direction he pointed and, after a long pause, shook her head,

"I don't recall us going there or seeing any weirwoods. But other tribes besides ours worship the Old Gods in the Red Mountains. It could have been another group that carved the face."

Samwell looked disappointed.

"Why do you ask?" Natalie was curious.

Taking a deep breath, he replied,

"I just had a dream… I could fly in it, and I saw a weirwood."

Upon hearing this, Natalie's expression turned slightly odd.

Noticing, Samwell asked,

"What is it?"

"When I was young, I had similar dreams."

"And then?"

"Well…" Natalie suddenly stopped, leaving the thought unfinished.

But Samwell had an inkling.

In A Song of Ice and Fire, Bran Stark had experienced similar dreams in which he transformed into a direwolf.

Skinchanger!

The ability to send one's consciousness into an animal—that's the gift of a skinchanger.

Samwell finally understood.

Had I entered a bird's consciousness in that dream?

But why did he suddenly have this ability?

As far as he knew, only descendants of the First Men had this skill, and they were almost always followers of the Old Gods.

Then he recalled the ghostgrass he had been eating over the past few weeks. His spirit attribute had risen to 1.75.

Could that be it?

It seemed his theory was right; the spirit attribute was indeed tied to supernatural abilities.

Although he couldn't yet control animals at will, with continued growth in his spirit attribute, he might eventually master it.

Also, he noted Natalie's reluctance when she had trailed off.

He suspected that this young girl beside him might be a skinchanger too.

He turned to her, catching her gaze.

Their eyes met, and he saw a flicker of nervousness in her violet ones.

"I… I'm tired. I'm going to bed now. Goodnight."

She barely finished her words before fleeing.

(End of Chapter)