[Chapter Size: 3500 Words.]

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Thrid Person POV

Westeros, 296 AC.

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While Arctic was in the midst of new steps toward development, the South seemed quite agitated; Westeros was not doing well at all. The events that had until then been discussed by the nobility began to spread among the common folk.

More and more people in Westeros were learning about the events in Oldtown on one hand, and the defeat of the royal fleet and the fall of the king on the other. The terrifying fleet coming from beyond the Wall began to bring fear to the hearts of everyone in the Seven Kingdoms.

“They killed the High Septon!! They are against the Seven!” exclaimed a septa in a small village in the Riverlands.

“They are demons from the North, coming to destroy us!” shouted a sailor after witnessing the Articans in action at a port in one of the Stormlands’ cities.

“I heard our glorious king was beaten up by Ned Stark’s bastard son! Hahahaha,” yelled a drunkard in the middle of the tavern.

“Watch your words, fool, do you want to die hanged?” the tavern keeper warned him.

In many septons nearby, people began to pray, hoping the war would not reach them, especially by a group that had been unbeatable at sea.

“Will our lords do nothing against the savages from the North?!” someone demanded.

“Savages? I’ve heard they live better than most common folk,” a woman said.

“Maybe we should go there… maybe they’ll accept us,” another person spoke, more out of desperation for food than reasoning.

“You’re crazy if you think we can just sail through the rough seas like that…” another farmer mocked.

“Let me tell you a song about the Artican company!” spoke a bard in a town in the Vale of Arryn.

“Hey, I thought he was going to sing a song speaking ill of them, but he’s praising the savages from the North!”

“Call the guards!”

“You’re arrested!”

“Wait, I’m just singing a song!” the bard tried to argue as he was taken to jail.

People speaking ill and some even seeing the Artican group in a good light, although the latter was quite rare, was spoken throughout Westeros in these weeks.

As for the nobility, they were in a different situation; regardless of what they thought, letters circulated among all houses, declaring the Articans as enemies of the Seven Kingdoms until further notice, while a call to arms had begun among all houses.

“We certainly won’t send any soldiers,” Doran commented as he looked at the letter. He might have been offended by Jon’s letter when he refused his offer, but he couldn’t deny it was satisfying to hear that the fat man sitting on the Iron Throne got beaten up badly after a great defeat at sea.

“Are we staying neutral?” his son asked.

“Yes… We should worry about the coast; the Ironmen might become bold since two huge fleets in Westeros were destroyed a few weeks ago,” he said eventually as everyone nodded, his gaze fell on Nyra, who seemed to avert her gaze hiding something, something Doran already knew, but did not interfere due to this being his best card.

At Storm’s End, Renly arrived after returning from Oldtown, slightly shaken by what Jon Arctic, the man who had calmly talked with him a short time ago at Highgarden, had led his men to a massacre and takeover of one of Westeros’ most important cities.

“What should we do, Prince Renly…” a man in the service of House Baratheon asked.

“Do we have a choice? My brother wants a force for the North, so let’s send at least 3,000 men,” he ordered, after all, sending a larger force was suicide with his resources.

This also seemed to happen in other realms, while Jon Arryn sent a letter to his kingdom seeking a troop of this number to go to the Wall to meet with others.

The Tullys did the same, while Hoster Tully issued this order to his vassals.

“Father, let me lead them. I will bring my niece back and end that damned bastard!” Edmund Tully exclaimed.

“Don’t be a fool. Didn’t you hear how they killed hundreds of men on our coast, do you really think you can face them?” the Blackfish, Brynden Tully, said mocking his foolish nephew.

“But…” Edmund tried to argue but was once again interrupted, now by his father.

“You won’t be going north, Edmund, stop this delusion, do you really think we can face them on their land? The king just wants to sacrifice a group of men so he doesn’t appear as weak as he was in the battle when the stag fell,” he said, referring to the battle between Jon Arctic and Robert Baratheon known as the fall of the stag.

Elsewhere… Littlefinger was meeting with a man from Essos. “I want you to send as many mercenaries as possible to infiltrate the kingdom; I want all the information possible!” Baelish murmured, his gaze rising above the houses, after all, he feared being attacked again.

“Alright, with the gold you are paying I can hire some mercenary groups, Lord Baelish, and that scar won’t look good on you…” the man spoke mockingly.

Baelish’s face bore a large wound, with Jon’s bird attacking him while he hid; luckily, he had a dagger and managed to kill the bird before dying himself, but it left a significant mark, branding him forever.

His hatred for the Starks was already great, whether for Brandon Stark, the one who marked him in his youth, Eddard Stark who married Catelyn Tully, or Jon Arctic, a new level of hatred was reached while he thought of nothing but revenge, filled with a feeling of regret, knowing that his discovered actions were also reasons for his attempted assassination, while he developed such a trauma that he was constantly looking at the sky, watching for any attack that would come for him.

In the north, the atmosphere was also not very good. “Ned! My father will send 3,000 men to the north after your criminal bastard! Are you just going to stand there?!” she demanded of her husband in the solar.

“We will not send any of our men beyond the Wall, Catelyn. It’s suicide to think they can fight Jon after everything that’s happened, especially in his territory!” Ned exclaimed, he was not at all eager to sacrifice 3,000 Northerners as the king was asking and the other realms were doing exactly that.

“You will be the only one not sending troops, you’re trying to protect him, aren’t you, even disobeying your king!” she exclaimed.

“Don’t forget Arya is with Jon, if Jon is in danger, Arya is in danger too!” Ned shouted furiously. “Now leave me alone, I have to pass the king’s orders to the Night’s Watch.” He said in the end as his wife stormed out of his solar furiously.

Ned watched her slam the door while his gaze fell to the window, sighing over the confusion Jon had thrown the kingdom into, although part of him believed that his nephew would not have done what he did in Oldtown without a good reason. Although the north nodded to the king’s order, everyone knew it was certain death to send people beyond the Wall, they had strange feelings about Jon, one that the boy had kidnapped Arya Stark, but the stories that came from the south regarding the girl and how she had become a smart warrior, had captivated everyone except his wife, who was against it regardless of how Arya had changed.

While Ned pondered the realm and Catelyn went to the sept to pray in an attempt to calm her fury, Sansa was talking with her friends, stunned by the events.

“Sansa… your bastard brother attacked the king!” one of her friends in Winterfell murmured in horror.

“So he really became a king…” Jenny Poole murmured at that.

“Jon is known as the king beyond the Wall, a wild type… he will never be a true king,” Sansa said firmly.

“But he defeated the king…” Jenny continued.

“It’s because the king is very old now. My father always said how he fought at the battle of the Trident and defeated Rhaegar Targaryen. Maybe it’s time for him to pass the crown to the prince… and I will be the queen…” she spoke in a dreamy tone while her friends looked on with a bit of envy.

“The bastard has become a criminal,” Theon said with a malicious tone.

“Don’t talk like that about Jon!!” Bran exclaimed, advancing with his wooden sword on Theon, who, even with a dislocated arm, could still easily handle a much younger boy.

Bran fell to the ground in the next moment, “Come on, young Stark… can’t I speak of that bastard anymore?” he said mockingly.

“Jon is not a criminal!” Bran exclaimed angrily.

“Stop it!” Robb’s voice was heard as he approached, while Theon raised an eyebrow at him.

“What now, you’re defending him? You of all people?” Theon asked.

“I’m not defending him, but I don’t like you hitting my brother to relieve your frustrations,” Robb said sternly.

“Tsk. Doesn’t seem like a few years ago you made a brother be expelled from Winterfell along with your mother,” Theon taunted angrily at Robb.

Robb trembled a bit, before continuing. “He is not my brother, and you can leave us, I will take over training with Bran,” Robb said.

“Jon is our brother!” Bran exclaimed as Theon left in a bad mood and Robb looked at his brother sternly.

“He is not, and I don’t want you talking about a criminal anymore,” Robb said seriously while Bran had to swallow his frustrations before fighting; at least with Robb, it was easier for the boy.

As Theon went to a brothel in the town to try to relieve his frustrations, on an island, there was a huge castle with a vast hall with the symbol of the Kraken, in the chair there, known as the salt chair and used to be used by the ancient kings of the ironborns, Balon Greyjoy was listening to reports from the continent.

“Hahahahahahaha!” He laughed, satisfied. “It seems those whores from the continent are in a pretty bad situation… maybe this is our time to act…” Balon murmured in front of his men, brother, and daughter.

“Shall we attack them?” Victarion Greyjoy, his brother, asked.

“It’s still early… we haven’t recovered from the war… but let’s prepare… soon we will launch an attack that will devastate the entire continent and they will recognize us as sovereigns,” Balon said.

“Should we pull Theon from the Starks first?” Asha asked.

“Theon? That thing was raised by wolves, he’s not a Kraken,” Balon growled, not caring about his son.

“I foresee a victory over Westeros, the Kraken will place its tentacles over the great houses…” Aeron, another brother of Balon and a priest of the drowned god, exclaimed while the majority nodded to him believing in his words.

“Let’s prepare, in a few years, Westeros will feel the Kraken!” Balon exclaimed.

“So my father decided to send 3,000 men to the Wall…” Tyrion was drinking wine in front of Kevan’s solar in Lannisport while he nodded.

“That will be interesting, how many men will freeze their balls off until they meet this mysterious… Arctic?” He made this question as a joke.

“I don’t know.. but just let’s call these men…” Kevan just shrugged and obeyed his brother’s order to summon 3,000 men to die.

“Grandma…” In Highgarden, Willas approached Olenna calmly.

“Tell me, my grandson.” She gave him a small smile.

“Is this right… becoming enemies with Arctic is the best path?” He asked cautiously.

“Hm? Where did that come from…” Olenna looked at her grandson. “You have to look at the situation on a larger scale, don’t be as foolish as your father.” She started, but Willas was not convinced.

“But you saw how they destroyed the fleets…” He said, but Olenna interrupted him.

“What do you think will happen if we do nothing? They launched an attack in Oldtown, your mother’s home, desecrated the Citadel which has a history of thousands of years without anyone coming close to what Jon Arctic did, if we don’t attack them, our own vassals will attack us… they demand an answer, my grandson and we will give them exactly that,” Olenna spoke.

“…” Willas said nothing, just kept thinking about Olenna’s words, he agreed with her and had already had that reasoning… but he also did not want to see giants marching towards Highgarden in the future, Jon Arctic was dangerous and he did not want to infuriate him to the point of him starting a war with Westeros.

“You can leave me alone now… this old woman needs to get some air…” Olenna murmured while Willas nodded leaving his grandmother alone with her thoughts.

Olenna was pondering the problems while her son was organizing a company of 5,000 men, a number greater than other kingdoms to show off, which Olenna thought was foolish, after all, they were 5,000 dead men.

“You certainly know how to bring trouble, even though I think you didn’t act without reason, now we are enemies and I have to think of a way to use your Targaryen bastardy against Arctic… although he has already gone to war with Westeros… and speaking to the king would make the North ally with Arctic or even become a realm, which is horrible and the worst scenario possible… so I will have to hide this information for now, son of Rhaegar…” she murmured in the end.

“Visenya Targaryen… that is the name Prince Rhaegar chose for his son, while his pregnant wife insists the baby will be a boy and she is torn between Daeron, Jaehaerys, or Aegon…” Jon’s words left his mouth with the wind, as he read the book atop the Grand Weirwood, the sun began to rise that day casting the first rays between the mountains while Arctic began to be illuminated.

“They often had brief disagreements over this, Rhaegar and Lyanna usually don’t stay mad at each other for long, like newlyweds, they seem to love each other. I’ve been here more than a moon now, watching Lyanna Targaryen’s pregnancy, she looks like she will have a healthy baby… so I might return to King’s Landing soon, hoping to crown Rhaegar as King the next time I meet him… the madness of his father is going beyond limits and thanks to his stupidity, a rebellion has begun while many kingdoms are gathering armies, Rhaegar will spend more time with his wife before he goes to King’s Landing to start handling the war with his allies…” Jon continued reading the book, there were more parts… but the story between Rhaegar and Lyanna probably ended there and Jon looked lost in it…

He closed the book and looked… he reached this part after reading the entire book looking for why it bothered him so much… this was proof that Lyanna and Rhaegar were married, not that the Prince Targaryen kidnapped and raped her as was told… they loved each other and she married him after the high septa of the time, who must have died in the sack of King’s Landing, annulled Rhaegar’s marriage to Elia.

Jon felt dizzy, the trunk where he was sitting disappeared as he tried to understand what was happening there… A baby that would be born from Lyanna Stark… One that she insisted was a boy, his connection with the Targaryens… like Aemon, Brynden, and even Nyra Sand… his sister…

Jon quickly connected the dots and although he had suspicions before, he somewhat avoided this path, after all, he didn’t want to understand that his life was another lie before he became…

A warm and cold feeling came from his past, he was lost and angry, angry at everything at that moment, while he crushed the book in his hands… His father… no, his uncle… had lied to him his entire life and made him live a crappy life until his 8 namedays… just thinking about it, Jon was enraged, he wasn’t a bastard as he thought… he was a Targaryen…

Jon was so enraged that his eyes shone with intense light, and Eragon sitting nearby quickly sensed his father’s unrestrained fury, he raised his head roaring loudly.

ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR 

All of Arctic heard his roar that morning as everyone starting their day on the streets of Arctic immediately looked toward the great tree, where Jon and Eragon were.

“Why is he enraged?!” Arya shouted from the royal castle not understanding while Seryna and Ygritte looked out the window immediately with concern.

However, it was not limited to just Eragon, as several roars started throughout the kingdom, beginning with Ghost who went out to the castle courtyard, raising his head and howling loudly, drawing everyone’s attention there, his partner did the same, while she was still lying in bed about to give birth, another howl came from 3 other wolves that Jon brought to the castle, even Arya’s two wolves also howled, and the whole city was like that.

The people of Arctic didn’t understand what was happening as howls from wolves and growls from other animals began to be heard throughout Arctic, and even beyond, while in the forests the animals were all agitated with many running out growling.

This began to instill fear among the citizens, even though no one was being attacked, it wasn’t normal behavior and even the Wargs’ animals were affected, unable to contain their beasts.

Jon was still enraged and didn’t even understand what was happening around him, thinking only of going to Winterfell at this moment to confront his uncle. He didn’t notice when Eragon seemed to shine at that moment, as a cold wind began to swirl around Jon and his dragon.

It started with a cold wind, turning the very air into snow particles, and this continued exploding as people saw a frosty explosion burst from that place by the Grand Weirwood. This formed a snowstorm as a White Walker would create while it circled Jon and Eragon showing their teeth while growling and still shining.

“What is happening there?!”

“Where did this come from?!”

“What is happening with the Grand Weirwood?!”

“Someone call the children of the forest?!”

These exclamations began throughout Arctic as the animals continued growling, with even people who had not left their homes going to see, their eyes shining with fear as the snow circulated that part of the great tree, while it began to fall over the city with flakes.

Jon was in the middle of that storm, but he didn’t seem to care or even know what was happening there, as his gaze continued on the book in front of him… even covered in snow, he continued consumed by anger.

“Who are you?” An ancient and powerful voice, one he hadn’t heard for years, resonated in his mind, as if it had come from the tree he was on.

“Who am I…?” Jon murmured hearing this.

“Are you a Snow, a Stark, a Targaryen… or…?” The voice continued as Jon finally began to reason again.

“I am…” He didn’t take long to find an answer, after all, if he had an existential crisis, all he had to do was look forward to find his answer. However, his vision was obscured by the snowstorm, as he finally realized what was happening… while Eragon continued to emit a glow behind him generating the snowstorm. “I am Jon Arctic.” Jon said firmly as the wind with snow continued blowing his hair and clothes while snow accumulated around him.

The storm finally began to calm down at this moment after his words, while Eragon returned to normal at this moment and Arctic finally was seen, as everyone could see the snow particles beginning to disappear too, with the animals also stopping making sounds throughout the region, while looking cautiously and confused about what happened.

“Jon Arctic… this is me now…” Jon murmured looking at the city he built, although he was surprised by what just happened and angry about what he discovered.

He stood up at that moment and Eragon understanding what his father wanted, lowered his neck while Jon mounted him, he then jumped from the Grand Weirwood.

ROOOOOOOAAAAARRRRRR Eragon gave a roar before opening his wings right after passing close to the city while many were frightened by the strange behavior of the dragon with Jon on top.

“Jon…?” Seryna murmured from the castle looking at Jon beginning to take attitude.

“Where is he going… what was all this?!” Ygritte exclaimed stunned.

Seryna just looked worried unable to answer Ygritte’s questions, while watching Jon heading in a direction out of Arctic.

Eragon’s wings continued to beat as he gained a bit more altitude… Jon knew very well who he was at this moment, but that didn’t stop him from feeling anger, anger for everything they lied about and he was heading south with Eragon, toward the Wall and beyond.

Raccoon here: Did you find Eragon’s abilities too exaggerated?

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