Jon Snow II

Benhart, John and Melentia agreed to go to Majula together, it's too dangerous to go apart.

At the moment, the short man was telling his story.

— This is not a country, but a mess. There is no king, everyone has a crazy gleam in their eyes. And there are terrible creatures everywhere. The perfect place to test my sword! Heh-heh-heh ... - stroking his beard, Benhart smiled, — I myself came from a far eastern country to hone my skills. Legend has it that mighty creatures live in these lands. This sword is passed down in my family from generation to generation. — casting a gentle glance at the blade, he said, — Only a real man will be able to wield it. I can fight any enemy–man or beast. No one can handle my sword. Heh-heh-heh…

— Yes, these are ungrateful times... Khe-heh-heh... - the old woman also supported Benhart's monologue from time to time. And she was constantly looking at the sword in the warrior's hands — This old lady has to carry all her things with her. Home... a place forgotten by many. Are you a brave warrior? Do you remember your home?

Violet eyes were distracted from the old woman with a huge load on her back. He didn't even try to understand or ask how she wears this structure.

"Home... is where I was born, grew up and lived… There is a family there, people dear to me"

— Yes, there is. Those lands... I do not know where they are, but I lived in the North, among snow and forest in a castle. – both companions listened attentively to the third, — The castle was called Winterfell, I was the son of the Lord of the castle. I had brothers and sisters. And also a huge direwolf. – the look softened, — The ghost was with me until the very end…

"I've never heard of such a castle or a direwolf… But I believe you, who knows what else there is in the world of the unknown.

Benhart would have continued to fill them with stories about his adventures, if not for the sounds of battle.

Someone unlucky attracted the attention of the soldiers in the area to himself, which, although it was not a difficult task, but it was still easier to pass quietly.

The battle was heating up, apparently the undead were pinning the troublemaker.

When John and Benhart arrived, the warrior was not in the best condition. A fragment of a spear protruded from his left side, a couple of arrows in his torso and many wounds. The equipment was burgundy in color, now it was not possible to find out the real coloring.

John and Benhart were amazed at the endurance and tenacity of this warrior. Despite his injuries, a warrior in a hat and leather armor skillfully struck with a large sword, but there were too many soldiers.

Neither John nor his companion knew how he attracted the hollow soldiers, but they did not hesitate.

Long claw slipped out of his house in order to strike enemies.

The Great Moon Sword cut the soldiers in two.

Blows and swings rained down on the enemies like hail, quickly reducing the numerical superiority. And the undead themselves didn't help each other much.

The warrior noticed them and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. When the last undead fell, he fell too.

— John, a flask of Estus! – not fully understanding what Benhart meant, he took out his own elixir and poured it into the victim's mouth. Internally asking myself, will it help?

After a few minutes of first aid provided and rendered, the warrior woke up.

— * Cough... cough * S-thank you va-a-am... * inhale... exhale * I would have been hacked to death by these poor people if you weren't nearby. Thank you. – getting up, the warrior shifted the weapon to his left hand, to which the short man raised an eyebrow in surprise, — Aslatiel from Myrrh. Aslatiel held out his hand to them.

Benhart, knowing that this gesture is a sign of honesty and openness, extended his hand first, and John a little later immediately after.

— Benhart from Jugo!

— Jon Snow.

Melenthia appeared from behind the trees. When everyone was introduced, Aslatiel asked to go with them. No one was against it.

Aslatiel was a master swordsman, the way he wielded his sword, John had never seen such an art from anyone. Therefore, he thought it was wrong to ask for guidance from such an experienced swordsman.

— Your skills delight me, my friend. Practical and ruthless. – Aslatiel nodded with satisfaction, — May I note that your sword is an unusual weapon. He's seen a lot.

Despite the fact that John did not feel tired and needed sleep and food, he was tired ... emotionally and spiritually.

Their exchange of blows lasted about 20-30 moves and the two warriors could fully appreciate each other.

— H-yes... uh-f... I don't understand. There is not even a bit of weakness in the muscles, but…

— Yes ... the curse is a strange phenomenon. What you feel, your shortness of breath is a consequence of mental fatigue. I can admit that I am surprised that your soul is so small and contains so much courage. – at these words, John looked in his direction in shock.

He had noticed before that Aslatiel's aura was much larger and brighter than anyone else's. "Is it possible that the aura is a soul?"

– Do you see souls? – by this time, Benhart and Melentia were listening intently.

—Ha-ha-ha-ha!!! – the man burst out laughing, — All you see are souls! The energy absorbed by you after killing the hollow ones or at their death, whether you are near: souls strive for habitation. To us! hiding the sword behind his back, he continued, "I absorbed souls and gained the ability to see the size of souls, and soon, after long wanderings and battles, their shape and condition.

Aslatiel looked directly at John.

— When I look at a person, I see how a light, a smoldering sphere or a blazing spark glows at his heart. Don't worry, you'll be able to see it too. You should approach that girl... in Majul and she will help you.

John hesitated for a moment and asked, "Are souls hesitating?"

- no. Even at the threshold of death, the soul remains unshaken. Aslatiel's eyes sparkled with interest, but he did not ask questions.

"So what I see is not really a soul, or does everyone see them in their own way?"

Having turned off the temporary camp, the group went on.

Kroana greeted them joyfully by showing them her wares. It is noteworthy that Kroana and Melentia did not enjoy each other's presence.

The group was replenished with a fifth member and they all moved to Majula. The passage was open, almost everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

John was once again amazed at Estus' healing abilities. Is this potion something divine?

- Estus can only be drunk by carriers of the curse – Hollow, it either does not work on the living, or ... the details ... mmm ... are not the most attractive. – Kroana was walking by explaining what estus is.

— In my country, they cook something similar, they call it Solar soup! Heh, heh, heh," Benhart chimed in.

— The flask can be filled at the campfire... Heh-heh… There are legends all over the world... - the decrepit old woman Melentia spoke in her hoarse voice, — As if the soul of the First Keeper of... Flame burns in a flask… But these are just legends...Khe-heh-heh..." her laugh sounded more like a cough.

After letting the others go ahead, John took the belongings that he had left in the trunk last time.

As Kroana said, everything is in place.

With their arrival, Majula became more lively. The dejected Solden looked from his stele with an impenetrable gaze, the merchant from Volgen was only happy, the blacksmith was waiting for the coveted key with undisguised eagerness.

John was the first to visit the blacksmith, giving him the key.

— Here's your key.

— Oh, yes, everything is fine. Now I can get to work. But first I need to get everything in order. Come back later. I am a simple blacksmith and my name is Lenigrast.

— Can I ask you a couple of questions? Do you know what it is? Taking the sparkling metal out of his bag, John handed the piece to the blacksmith.

Lenigrast's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

— Y-yes... it's a Shimmering titanite! the blacksmith exclaimed, which drew attention to them, but he didn't care about anything.

— I found it on the way here. What do you say?

— This is a very valuable metal! – with serious tension, he said, - I can improve anything you want with it, but ... - looking from titanite to John, Lenigrast continued, — It is better to use such a value for the same valuable weapons and armor. – returning the piece to John, he was not a bit greedy.

For Lenigrast, it was valuable and very interesting material, but no more.

Without thinking twice, Snow pulled out his sword and showed it to the blacksmith.

"You mean that sword?"

The blacksmith carefully examined the edge of the blade, moved closer and carefully examined the smoky patterns.

— Amazing… Unbelievably… I don't know how you got this treasure… Take care of it and it will save you. – he paused for a good couple of minutes, — I can't improve this sword – a legendary weapon I want to tell you. But I know that it can be tempered. If you want your enemies to be set on fire, struck by lightning or consumed by darkness, then you should find a blacksmith who owns such an art. I'm just an ordinary blacksmith.

"And you don't know where to find one?" – at this rate, John himself will become Dejected.

— I'm a blacksmith, not a cartographer and not a talker! Maybe there's someone in Haida Tower you're looking for. That tunnel over there leads to the tower.

The Messenger became the second person he visited. As Aslatiel said, she helped John absorb the souls of those he had destroyed.

The sensations were indescribable, as if something inside you was growing, increasing and gaining strength, and with it you yourself were growing.

The sword seemed lighter, the body light, and the movements became fast and precise. Such power can cloud the mind.

"Are the Hollow ones obsessed with this? Or is it a consequence of the curse?"

Now John had a choice: go kill the Pursuer or try to better prepare for a meeting with him.

The first option is a risky and dangerous choice that will cost lives. His or someone else's.

The second option is no less dangerous, since it is unknown what awaits him in the Heida Tower, but it is also a chance to become stronger.

— May I inform you that I am heading to the Darkwood. Here our paths diverge, but we will meet, I am sure. – Aslatiel was saying goodbye, — Where will you turn? Will you ruin the Pursuer or something else?

"How did he know I was going there?"

—Melentia and Benhart told me about it.

It's like you're reading my mind. – the warrior only grunted at this statement, but smiled, — I think I'll take a chance... "Heyd... Tower... Pier... Flame... Sinner..." - foreign words hit the mind, repeating themselves in the same order each time they sounded clearer, — Heyd… I'll go to Haid..." only when he uttered this phrase did the voices recede, and Aslatiel was no longer in sight.

"What kind of voices?! What the hell is going on in my head!" deep breaths and exhalations helped John calm down "The voice makes me go to the Heida Tower... what does the Pier, the Flame and the Sinner mean? The legs themselves led the brother of the Night Watch, the former brother, to Haid.

Hayde is a lighthouse or a city, or maybe that's the name of the country? Very little is known about this place. Once there lived a couple of gods, their names have been erased from history. It is known for certain that it was here that the Azure Way and the First Knightly Order, the Blue Guards, originated.

Since then, many millennia have passed, the continent is now inhabited by people, there are more orders than warriors worthy of joining them. Knowledge and faith go hand in hand and they used to meet here, in this very place. Faith in the gods who gave knowledge to the living is an impossible dream that ran away along the streams of time.

White cladding, sky-blue roofs and artful architecture are a fascinating sight. This view does not worsen even the fact that the city barely stands in the middle of the ocean.

"Time spares no one and nothing"

Walking along a collapsing stone road two meters wide, one and a half meters wide, Snow realized that this place could go under water with him at any moment. Did he make the right decision? Following the voices that came from nowhere is not the smartest thing to do.

Ahead, in a semicircular open space, a five-meter knight clad in dark green armor was waiting for him. He stood motionless, like an animal hiding on the hunt. There was no desire to approach him.

Looking around, John noticed two statues with the head of a falcon or an eagle, apparently some kind of deity, which looked quite heavy. If they're hollow, then his plan has problems.

First, to deprive him of freedom of action – rushing at the knight, John dodged a horizontal blow to the side, and then from a vertical dodge under the giant's foot and delivered a cutting blow to the Achilles tendon.

There was a crash of metal on metal. "Damn it! Is there no one inside them?"

The black-haired man with curls wasn't going to back down, no. Now he decided to test them for the intellectual component. John calculated that when approaching the armor, they accelerate and lose accuracy.

"Come close enough, preferably after a series of blows. Yeah. Now it is possible" When the giant was close enough to the statue, John had to drastically reduce the distance between them. High speed and low accuracy gave the warrior in black a chance to stay alive for now.

The sword plunged into the statue, and John jumped away, cutting it into two halves. However, due to the fact that the weapon has not been cared for for a long time, it has become corroded and slowly crumbled, and now it has broken into pieces.

Large fragments knocked down the inhuman armor and tore the threads of the soul spell as a result, John defeated the huge knight due to ingenuity, luck and observation. There were two staircases from here, up and down, and down to the fire.

Now a bonfire is certainly preferable. When John returned to the armor, he took a closer look at it. When something familiar flashed among the stone and twisted metal.

The human figure was lying in John's left hand. While the fire was not far away, he decided to return. Aslatiel, like Melentia, taught him a useful trick. The bonfire is not just a place where the Hollow attracts, here you can not only replenish the flask with estus, but also store things.

"Aslatiel said that it is worth keeping only valuable things here. And Human figures among them... Bring your hand with the object to the flame and I will think about protection, secret, safe..."

Suddenly, the human figure disintegrated into dust, and then into small flames and merged with the flames of the fire. John stared into the fire for a long time. Repeating the process only in the opposite direction, Snow was convinced of the truthfulness of the assurances of the sword master Aslatiel.

Above was the same knight, with only one difference – the mace was fast asleep in his steel palms. John's brain tensed again. Either lead the enemy to the statue, or throw him off, or dismember him.

The choice is obvious.

The plan went like clockwork. A sharp approach, evasion, a cut of the foot and ... the knee of the old knight crashed right into John's chest, throwing him a couple of meters. The back, protected by the cuirass from hitting the wall, was not injured. It's a pity that the wall fell into the water after that.

I squeezed my chest and immediately a feeling of discomfort came, fortunately the armor held back the blow, even if it bent. Right now he was not up to the surprises of his vitality. The flask with estus quickly put him in order, fortunately he managed to cut off part of his leg, and the enemy could not finish him off quickly.

John made a mistake and... "It won't happen again!"

Dodging a powerful blow, the metal knight remained open. Valyrian steel passed through metal as if through air. Depriving the tin of the right hand. Anticipating that the attack would come from the freed left, Snow immediately rolled behind his back and blew off his head.

The torso fell with a crash, and a Human figure rolled out of the head. Picking it up, he moved on. In a large semicircular room or tower, three knights were waiting for him at once. The one in the middle moved towards him immediately, the others were waiting. The left one blocked the passage to the cathedral, and the right one to the lighthouse.

Sighing, Snow hurried to finish with the old knight as soon as possible. Before his partners change their minds. This battle was a mixture of the first and the second. The mace is stuck in a column that has not collapsed. And he couldn't help but take such a chance. But this time he immediately cut off his head, and the knight fell. The human figure was instantly in the bag.

The other two, as if on cue, went to him. The one protecting the passage to the cathedral was closer, but Snow led him towards the place where there was an open cliff. The two metal knights still couldn't hit him. While he danced among their huge figures.

When they got too close to the cliff, John made a decisive move. Bypassing one, he slashed at the leg of the far one and with all his strength pushed the knight onto the other. The grinding and squeaking of the armor did not last long. A splash of water announced the successful completion of the plan.

"To the left or to the right? Hmm... going to the left always leads to problems..."

This city was too empty for John's taste. There is no one but these knights.

Heida's Fire Tower or lighthouse had its own aura, which surprised him. After all, the cans did not have an aura before, even a faint echo. And here the orange-red haze spread like tentacles across the sky.

In front of the entrance to the first floor, or at least to the first floor at the moment, there was another old knight. At a height of 5 meters, all dressed in dark green armor and with a giant mace. But the most interesting thing was the haze that sluggishly seeped through the seams and joints in the armor.

John subconsciously felt the danger from this warrior, and when he saw him, he began to approach him. The oddities did not end there, because when the knight approached, he did not attack, but spoke in a metallic distorted voice.

— Your way... what is your way… The Order, name yourself ... - John stood silently uncomprehendingly, looking into the empty black cutouts under his eyes.

— I am not a member of any order ... - this answer satisfied the old knight.

— Go…

John walked into the lighthouse without turning around.

A large warrior in red armor appeared before his eyes. There were two short horns on the helmet. Cuirass and bracers had golden lines as an ornament, greaves merged in black and red, forming a flame. In his hands he held a halberd and a large teardrop-shaped shield.

John and the red-armored warrior froze.

A whistling sound filled the room and the violet eyes reflected the blade approaching his head. Snow only manages to deflect his head, but does not take into account the size of the halberd, and it plunges into his shoulder, chaining him to the wall. Everything happened in an instant.

John almost dropped his sword from his hand, slammed it backhand on the shaft. The sound of steel on steel slightly shocked him. And yet the blade of the halberd left his body.

"Dragon Rider... slave of the king... kill..." the voices layered on top of each other returned, but did not hurt, and the warrior agreed with them.

The Dragon Rider retreated a little. And this is just to deliver another crushing blow, and not for John to recover.

"He needs distance to make such strikes. John, not paying attention to the wound, carefully watched every movement of the rider, waiting for the moment to counterattack.

From the moment John got here, he tried to constantly improve. In the forgotten fort, in the forest, and even now.

But the rider did not attack, he seemed to be beckoning Snow to approach. There was no other way out.

Cautiously, but John stepped onto the makeshift circle and only now realized that beyond it, from the edge to the wall, there was an abyss, and from below there was a column of sea water. John shifted his gaze to his opponent and once again looked him up and down.

A thick layer of armor in almost all areas. The weapon is sharp and durable, a large shield that cannot be penetrated. Powerful, fast and protected – the perfect soldier, the most terrible opponent.

And Jon Snow had to pass it.

Step forward… The battle has begun…

The dragon rider, while poking him, only checked him, and then turned into sweeping blows, sometimes even circular ones. Snow had to jump, jump, roll like a circus animal. The opponent enjoyed it. Here he was caught.

Having repelled another poke, John abruptly went for a rapprochement.

Step.

The halberd was already returning horizontally, cutting John.

Step.

The dark-haired warrior shifted towards the oncoming weapon.

Step.

The dragon rider put up a shield in front of him, covering his entire body, except for the edge of the helmet, one eye watched what was happening.

Step. Blow.

* Tong!*

The long claw pro slid over the convex surface. The tip came closer to the eye.

Step.

John accelerated and intensified his punch. The blade pierced the mesh under the visor of the helmet, piercing into the eyeball and piercing the brain with a thud pierced the skull. I didn't have enough strength to do the same with the back wall of the helmet.

As expected, the armor was made of extremely durable metal.

— * Exhale * ... - The Dragon rider fell flat, after a couple of moments his body dissolved into a clot of ash and flew away to no one knows where. There was a soul in that place, enveloped in a white flame. It slowly reached out to him. John accepted it.

Taking out a flask of estus, which was almost over, John staggered and drank the rest. A warm sensation filled his body. The wounds had healed, and the blood was slowly disappearing.

It was now that the realization came that he was not yet ready to meet someone serious. The pursuer must be on a completely different level than this opponent. At least, according to rumors.

An external staircase led to the second floor to an open space where a bonfire was located. Facing the sun, a woman was praying on her knees. Ignoring her, Snow sat down by the fire and picked up a Human figure.

Placing the object in both hands, John concentrated, closed his eyes and tried to listen. Melentia had taught him that.

The sounds of the surf of the sea, the cries of seagulls and fire flashes on the lighthouse. It is unclear how, but it was replaced by the stern and cold voice of his father. Lord Eddard Stark.

"It can be used to reverse the devastation. If you look closely at the figure, it takes the form of a person"

A cold sweat broke out on John. The figurine fell out of his hands and came into contact with the fire, but did not burn. The fire had no effect on her.

John stared intently and unblinkingly at the Human figure, not looking away even when the woman got up and approached him.

"You're not from around here, are you?" My name is Lysia. – she began in a calm, devout voice.

— And?! Mmm ... yes, yes ... - John carefully took the figurine and hid it, — What do you say your name is?

— Lysia. The woman replied patiently.

— And what are you doing here, Lysia? It doesn't seem so crowded here for a preacher.

— You have a sharp eye. I am here to carry the art of miracles – the teachings that I follow. I thought this cathedral would be crowded with people, but there's not a soul here. Nothing is happening here, so I'll have to move on soon. Lysia paused. An unspoken question hung between them.

John wasn't going to answer. He wasn't going to do anything right now. His thoughts were focused only on his father's voice.

— Then goodbye. I've cleared the way to Majula, you can go.

Even if she wasn't satisfied with this conversation, Lysia carefully hid it.

Soon John was left alone and he could finally repeat the process. The figure in his hands... the sound of the sea... and the stern cold voice of his father.

"It can be used to reverse the devastation. If you look closely at the figure, it takes the form of a person"

Thinking, Snow sat by the fire for a long time. It wasn't Eddard talking to him, not the Lord Keeper of the North, no. Parodied something, repeated his voice…

Shaking his head, and at the same time the thoughts in it, he stood up. Now I had to keep going. Snow felt that if he stopped for a long time, it wouldn't end well.

"Should I go to the cathedral? Or into that passage over there?... No, we need to go back to Majula and find out about the voice and the unusual soul of this rider"

Did the Dragon Rider really fly a dragon?

He did not ask this question even in his mind.

The return to Majula was motivated by several things: a number of questions from Melentia, collecting information about Heide, repairing his armor and some purchase.

— Oh, it's you again. Come on... everything is cheap for you here. Khe-heh-heh... - the haggard old woman leaned against the wall while her pile of things stood nearby. On a small scarlet handkerchief were the few things she could and traded.

— What are these stones? – John realized some time ago that it's worth buying something first and only then asking questions.

— A-a-a... your eye is not bad... the stones, as the legends say, are from the kidneys of the god of life himself. Swallowing one of these and your life force ... to return to you ... not immediately…

John bought a couple of these stones just in case. It was still necessary to test their effectiveness.

— You taught me to read the history of subjects, remember? – the decrepit head turned to him, — I ... heard a voice. The voice of his father…

The look of the old woman, previously full of mischief and mischief, along with a certain fatigue was replaced ... Snow could not tell what he had become.

I remember... the voices of my babies… They were screaming about magic urns… Don't be fooled! Time, history, the past speaks to you… but not alive! "if Melenthia wanted to scare him, she succeeded.

"What do you know about Heide?" John moved on to another question.

— Khe-heh-heh… That fire tower?... Hmm... hmm... I remember being told as a child that there is a place ... surrounded by a silvery surface, in the rays of the setting sun there is a stone earth... and the gods rule that place... Well, what are you... I'm just an old half-witted huckster... Khe-heh-heh…

"There was a Dragon Rider there…

Melenthia picked up the beads, slowly transferring them from palm to palm.

"...The horsemen who served King Wendrik faithfully and helped him found Dranglik… Perhaps that's enough for today… Go... get souls, yes more…

The second stop was the blacksmith. Lenigrast was already forging something when Snow came in. The question of who he makes weapons to was left behind.

Snow had been here no more than two days and did not dare to judge. This world is too unpredictable and powerful.

Things that are normal for the inhabitants of these lands are unheard of for the Westerosi. Magic, miracles, enchanted weapons, armor that could only be worn by a Mountain or someone of similar build.

John himself felt that he had become much stronger, faster and more resilient. Thoughts that he could become an invincible warrior were abruptly thrown back. It was only necessary to recall the recent battle. His opponent made a mistake, he relaxed so much that he allowed himself to be killed. Dragon Rider, rationally, was better than Snow.

In everything.

Starting from equipment, ending with skills.

This world literally lived in battle. And John may never know how right he is. Because this continent, and the other continent, were constantly struggling in agony, but they could not stop it, they could only postpone what was destined for an unknown amount of time.

How long could it last?