[Chapter Size: 3200 Words.]

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Third Person POV

North, 281 AC.

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The hot desert wind battered against the mountain, seeming to carry all the air around that place, which was not a lie, and heated the mountain like nothing else there. The wind roared, making a natural sound, and the higher up the peak, the more chaotic it became. The only thing that could overshadow the sound of the wind was the beating of wings in the sky. Both the blue eagle and the red one flew over an area of the mountain, appearing to observe something, and the sound escaping their beaks was the only symphony in the sky at that moment.

In front of the eagles stood the Mother of Mountains, and on one of the peaks, a hand emerged, gripping a surface, forcing itself up and supporting its owner in that place. A man, covered to protect himself from the climate and standing tall, finally climbed up and stood after scaling 200 meters without rest. He had been ascending an area with no support, where he finally seemed to let out a small sigh.

The King of Artica wore a leather armor since he had begun his ascent, as the Valyrian metal one would be far too complicated for him there, along with reinforced clothing to shield himself from the sun.

His eyes were the only part of his body left uncovered, as he needed to see while climbing the mountain for hours under the scorching heat, even that morning.

No one else was coming up the same path he had climbed. He alone ascended since he had started—after all, this was a test for him, and he had the best capability among his men.

His gaze turned back, and he sighed, adjusting his keffiyeh. His eyes inevitably fell, curious, to the foot of the mountain, where he could see Vaes Dothrak more than a kilometer away, marking half of his journey. After all, that mountain was at least 2,000 meters high.

Soon, he looked up again. The eagles that had been accompanying him for hours continued to circle overhead, checking the best path for him to follow. Thus, he could not complain about the route he was taking, but it was still a challenge.

“I guess I should keep going…” he murmured.

He opened one of his flasks, took a sip of water, and resumed climbing, ascending over the unsupported boulders once more, advancing hundreds of meters.

Meanwhile, outside the mountain or even the city, the Articans were still dealing with the aftermath of the battle, walking across the battlefield where the fight had taken place. Two days had already passed since the battle.

The bodies of the massacred Dothraki were being piled up and cremated in the middle of the desert from time to time by the Articans and other Dothraki.

The Articans were organizing the camp. They had lost a few thousand men, but at the same time, they had achieved a victory considered a massacre. Among the Dothraki themselves and those who once looked at them with disdain, only fear and respect remained.

In the end, everyone gathered around Jon when the battle ended. Khal Drogo lay on the ground, and most of his army did too. Of the 120,000 men who fought for Drogo, only 30,000 had survived—an unbelievable number for the Dothraki.

The Articans, on the other hand, lost 25,000 men, most of them allied Dothraki.

Jon had some trouble dealing with the Dothraki seeking his leadership, but he avoided all of it by refusing to lead. The most persistent were the Dosh Khaleen themselves, whom he, with some effort, managed to stop from pushing him to become a Dothraki.

In the main tent of the Artican king and queen, a woman entered, breaking the silence.

“My queen.”

Seryna was sitting, reading a book. Her gaze lifted to her visitor—an Artican who served both as a lady-in-waiting and as a warrior and protector. She had accompanied Seryna throughout the entire journey, assisting her and fighting alongside her, despite the queen already having her royal guards.

“Luna,” Seryna greeted the woman.

“Sorry to disturb you, but how are you?” the woman asked.

“Very well. You don’t need to worry so much. Otherwise, I’ll start thinking you care more about the baby than his own father does,” Seryna replied.

After all, that woman always took any opportunity to ask about her pregnancy. It had been one moon and a week since she had conceived, expecting her second child with Jon.

“I apologize, my queen. I can’t help but ask. After all, your well-being is my priority. You must understand that,” she said with a small smile.

Seryna set the book aside and shared the same curve of the lips.

“Then, what brings you here?” the queen asked.

“There is a group of women from the Dosh Khaleen coming to the camp. I thought you should know,” she commented.

“Let me guess… They want me to become a Khaleesi so that Jon becomes a Khal. A bit strange, don’t you think?” Seryna murmured.

After all, Jon had been quite firm in refusing to join the Dothraki culture. Many seemed disappointed with his response. Even those who had been defeated wanted to see him as the great Khal of their culture—or, as they called it, the Great Stallion. But he refused, saying that his life was not there, that he served other gods, and that he would not ride horses because of it.

As soon as Jon began his journey to the mountain, the widows of the Khals tried to convince Seryna to speak with him. They claimed that, in the desert, she would have great power.

But Seryna knew exactly the power she already had in Artica. She was the first queen and ruled the kingdom in her husband’s absence during his long journey to the other side of the planet. Obviously, she had more power than she could gain anywhere else in the world. However, she had never sought power or status; she had never thought about it, even when receiving it.

Her life had always revolved around Jon. It might seem a bit trivial on her part, but her desire had always been to be by her husband’s side—to raise their children with him. Before everything became what it was today, she had already been with Jon.

Even being a giant of two and a half meters when he was just an eight-nameday-old child, she had made her decision. Like any giant of her race, when a giant chose a companion, it was for life. And she had chosen that human she found south of the Wall.

Of course, the Old Gods had made this relationship easier. They had blessed her, allowing her body to shrink to the size of a normal human. A divine gift that made her union with Jon possible.

“Certainly, my queen,” Luna replied in the end, and soon they were interrupted.

“My queen!”

Suddenly, a voice came from the entrance of the tent. It was one of the royal guards requesting permission to speak.

“What is it?” Seryna asked as she rose from the bed, setting the book aside.

“Some Dothraki women are here to speak with you,” he informed her from the entrance of the tent.

Seryna nodded.

“Speaking of them… Let’s see what they want,” she murmured, stepping toward the exit.

She was already dressed appropriately, as she had not changed since returning from Vaes Dothrak after saying goodbye to Jon that morning. Now, he had received authorization from the Dosh Khaleen and the elder to finally begin climbing the mountain.

All the Articans wanted to protest the idea of the king climbing alone, and even Seryna had offered to go, but Jon refused, saying he had to do it himself.

Seryna found a group of women outside. No one less than the elder led the group.

Once again, they tried to convince her to become a Khaleesi and stay in the desert while Jon led his Khalasar. Seryna, however, had no trouble rejecting the relentless proposal. The conversation had already reached a point where even her guards wanted to act to expel them.

“My answer has not changed. I think we no longer need to insist on this. My husband will return soon, and he will be irritated to know that you tried to convince me behind his back,” Seryna declared firmly.

At her side, Ghost observed the Dosh Khaleen with an intense gaze. Seryna knew very well that Jon was already on the mountain and was probably aware of everything through the eyes of the great wolf.

In the end, the women merely sighed and left the place.

Seryna then approached the giant wolf, which was lying on the sand.

“How are you now, Jon? Could you give me some sign?” she asked, touching beneath the wolf’s enormous snout, looking into his red eyes, waiting for a response.

The giant wolf let out a low sound and pointed his snout toward the mountain before giving a small bark.

Seryna looked at the massive structure before her and saw a reflection near the top of the mountain. Jon was signaling with a metal object he had taken with him. The sun reflected off the metal, allowing her to see the small glint—he was almost at the summit.

“Come back soon… I’ll be waiting for you,” Seryna murmured before returning to her tent, where she would rest while awaiting her husband’s return.

Hours passed, and Jon finally reached the highest point of the place.

Upon arrival, he found the entrance to a cave. The mouth of the cave was filled with eagle nests, with surprisingly large eggs.

“Well, I’ll go alone from here on,” Jon said to his two eagles, Phaenix and Bleufire. They continued circling the area, and upon hearing him, they flew up to the peak of the mountain, as if waiting for him.

According to the Dosh Khaleen, no one had entered that place for over eight hundred years. But there were ancient records of a cave that connected directly to the top of the mountain. Jon was certain this was the passage.

He extended one hand and, with ease, conjured a ball of flames to illuminate the way. Then, he moved forward.

It wasn’t long before he heard the sound of dripping water. As he advanced, he realized the path was opening into something larger—it appeared to be a grotto with a massive crystalline lake.

Jon couldn’t help but admire the place. He watched as a droplet of water fell from the cave ceiling and hit the surface of the lake, creating tiny ripples.

The most impressive thing was that the water did not seem to drain down to the base of the mountain. The lake’s walls were impenetrable, and its only source of replenishment was the rain, which fell directly into it.

“It hasn’t rained here for three moons… and yet, the water is still accumulated,” Jon murmured, fascinated.

The place seemed like a true relic. Despite its breathtaking beauty, Jon pressed forward.

At last, he began to see a light in the distance.

The cave path started sloping upward, indicating that he was nearing his destination.

Then, the light grew stronger before him.

And soon after, the exit appeared.

His eagles immediately let out a sound upon seeing their master emerge into the small area. Vegetation filled the entire peak in a way Jon had not expected when he arrived in Vaes Dothrak.

After all, this was a desert region, and he had been quite surprised when he initially saw it through his eagles’ eyes. Now, seeing it in person, the surprise was even greater.

“Well… If I’m not mistaken, it should be around here,” Jon murmured.

That kind of vegetation shouldn’t exist in this place, yet, for some reason, it was here.

He began exploring the area and soon found something interesting. In the middle of the place, there was a tree, and beneath its roots, a chest was trapped, as if cradled by maternal arms holding a newborn child.

It would be impossible to remove it without a weapon, as the Dosh Khaleen had only allowed him to embark on this journey without carrying any arms.

“Let’s see what we can do here…”

Jon sighed and quickly placed his hand on the chest. His eyes gleamed with an even deeper green, blended with the natural gray of his irises.

At that moment, the roots began to move. Slowly, they started withdrawing, releasing the chest from their protective grasp.

Jon watched with satisfaction. There was no lock preventing him from opening it—after all, the clasp had long since rotted away. However, the chest’s wood was still surprisingly firm, likely having preserved its contents for thousands of years.

As soon as he opened it, he found exactly what he was looking for.

Inside, there was only one item: a Valyrian steel tube containing some kind of paper or parchment.

Jon carefully removed the object, realizing that it was the only item inside the chest. He then opened the tube and checked its contents. He was not disappointed.

“Here it is… The part of the map I needed to find.”

Nodding to himself, Jon placed the parchment back inside the metal tube and secured it to his belt.

He then walked to one of the edges of the vegetation, looking down toward the city.

“If I had brought Caraxes… it would have been much easier to get down from here…” Jon murmured.

Immediately, his eagles protested, letting out cries in the air. They clearly didn’t like the comment. It was as if they were saying that if Jon had not limited their size—since they could be as large as their parents—he could have relied on them there.

“Oh, don’t complain. You’re much more beautiful and useful this way,” Jon laughed as he started making his way back to the cave.

The descent was a bit more difficult since Jon had to be careful with every step on the treacherous terrain.

After three hours of climbing down, he finally emerged at one of the mountain’s edges.

The Dothraki guards were surprised to see him appear. Jon pulled off his keffiyeh as he approached them. The sun was no longer as strong, as it was nearing late afternoon.

It didn’t take long for the Artican royal guards to enter the city and approach quickly, as the skinchangers in the Artican army had already begun announcing the king’s return.

“You have finally returned… It seems you found what you were looking for,” the elder murmured, also approaching due to the commotion that had begun and observing carefully the object Jon hadn’t carried before climbing the mountain.

“You could say that. Either way, I believe our business here is finished,” he said, and the woman simply nodded.

“You’re leaving already, then?” she asked.

“Yes. There’s nothing more for me here. I have four pregnant wives and children waiting for me in my lands. I won’t stay longer than necessary,” Jon replied.

The woman said nothing more. She merely agreed with a slight nod, knowing that Jon had already made his decision.

Jon returned to the camp, his expression calm but with something on his mind.

“Well, we’ll have a great feast and spend some of the resources we’ve saved over the past moons. So, prepare for a grand celebration among our people and those who fought for us.”

In the end, his men began organizing the festivities.

Despite the large gathering and the thousands of warriors holding a grand celebration, Jon didn’t stay long. He allowed his men to enjoy themselves, but he himself returned to his tent, staying with his wife and cherishing the time he had been absent for almost two years. While in Artica, Jon had to divide his attention among four other women—if not his children—so Seryna felt blessed to have her husband entirely to herself there.

“I heard that several Khalasares are coming from the desert to meet you. Some have even asked to join you,” Seryna commented.

“We’re leaving tomorrow. I won’t get involved in this problem. I want you to be safe in Artica, and I also want to see how everyone is doing,” Jon replied, and his wife nodded.

“You brought most of the Artican army here precisely to strengthen them for something greater, didn’t you?” she murmured, lying beside him in bed, resting her head on his chest.

“Yes… we will honor those who fell during these almost two moons fighting alongside us, but I am preparing for the real war, and soon it will be knocking on Artica’s gates…” Jon murmured as Seryna nodded.

“Artica will survive anything, Jon,” Seryna said.

“There’s no doubt about that,” Jon replied.

The following morning, the Articans quickly began dismantling the camp.

There was nothing left for them in the Dothraki desert.

The Khalasares that had not participated in the war, or had been rejected by the Dothraki leaders, simply watched as Jon and his army began their departure, taking with them the Dothraki who had allied with him and chosen to follow him to his lands after proving their worth.

In the end, Jon saw no issue in taking those who had sworn loyalty to Artica. There were about 15,000 Dothraki and over 10,000 former slaves, who would now become part of the Artican population and army, helping to replenish the losses suffered in battle. After all, of the 45,000 warriors Jon had brought into this war, 5,000 had been lost.

And so, they began their march north once more, vanishing into the desert horizon.

“Did we do the right thing?” one of the Dosh Khaleen murmured at the end, watching them disappear beyond the horizon.

None of the other women knew exactly what to think of it.

“The prophecy did not lie,” the elder said in a solemn tone.

“The white wolf came to the desert.

He defeated the greatest Khalasares and then departed.

But one day, he will return.

When the desert turns to frozen white sand.

When the sun is no longer seen in the sky.

And when the night lasts for an entire era of darkness…

He will return here.

All that remains is to see if this prophecy will truly come to pass. And if it does… I hope he will save us from the end of the world of men,” the elder murmured.

The other elders nodded as they listened.

Beyond Jon himself, Artica would clearly be a name heard throughout the Dothraki desert from this moment on.

Stories of his army would begin spreading across all of Essos.

Everyone would speak of the terrible army that marched upon the lands of the Dothraki and brutally decimated their greatest warriors.

The memories of the ground shaking under the steps of the giants would never be forgotten.

And their leader…

The man who rode a colossal white wolf, raising his sword, while all enemies trembled before him.

And one day, according to the legends…

He will return.

Either as the one who will lead all the Dothraki.

Or as the one who will guide the world of men to its final destiny.

————-Nexts Chapters —————-

Chapter 249 – Discussion at Mance’s camp.

Chapter 254 – An Offer to the Free Folk 01.

Chapter 264 – What does Westeros know about Arctic?

Chapter 273 – Ártica Isolates Itself and Prepares for War!

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