[Chapter Size: 3400 Words.]

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JEOR MORMONT POV

CASTLE BLACK, 290 AC, a few days later.

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At Castle Black, Lord Commander Jeor Mormont was poring over a pile of paperwork that seemed to never diminish. His office desk was covered with requests and reports, all demanding his immediate attention. With a deep sigh, he contemplated the documents, each representing an almost desperate plea for resources for the Night’s Watch – pleas that were invariably denied by the realms.

The Watch, once a pride of the North, now seemed to be nothing more than a refuge for bandits, murderers, and rapists, all struggling to keep their heads attached to their shoulders. Mormont had always harbored the desire to change the fate of the Night’s Watch, to restore its former glory and honor. It was with this hope that he had joined the ancient order. However, over the past few years, he began to realize that such change might be an unattainable illusion.

Reflecting on his own journey, Mormont recalled the day he left his house and title, leaving his son Jorah to govern in his place. The decision, made with the hope of a better future for the Watch, now seemed laden with an additional weight of sadness and disappointment. In recent moons, news had reached him about the shameful path Jorah had taken, influenced by a woman. The dishonor brought to House Mormont by his heir weighed on his heart, a constant reminder of the difficult choices and sacrifices made throughout his life.

Seated in his austere office, with the dim light of Castle Black illuminating his documents, Jeor Mormont reflected on the many challenges ahead, both personal and for the Night’s Watch. He knew that the path ahead would be tough, but he was determined to face it with the strength and resilience that had always characterized his leadership.

The Night’s Watch, once proud and powerful, now faced dark days. The numbers of its members were rapidly diminishing, and volunteers were becoming increasingly rare. Instead, Castle Black saw the arrival of bandits and outlaws – the only ones willing to join the ranks of the Watch.

Jeor Mormont, the Lord Commander, was deeply concerned about this shift. The need for more recruits was more pressing than ever, especially in light of the unsettling movements of the wildlings beyond the Wall. To further complicate matters, every now and then a lunatic escorted by guards would arrive to join the Night’s Watch. Once, a few months ago, a bandit claimed that a “demon child” had killed all his companions. When Mormont inquired about his crime, he was astounded. He had heard rumors and songs about little Jon of the North, but always thought them to be mere folk tales.

On another occasion, a young man reported that a child had cut off his hand and cursed his family, leading to his father’s beheading a few moons later. This young man did not last long at Castle Black; his arrogance led him to attempt to assassinate some fellow brothers, resulting in his execution by the Lord Commander himself.

Mormont looked at the pile of papers on his desk and sighed, resigned to another day dedicated to writing reports. His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed a commotion outside the window. He stood up and walked over to it. Although he couldn’t see the gate from his position, the hustle and bustle and shouts of the men indicated the arrival of a visitor. The kind of commotion observed suggested something extraordinary, such as the unexpected arrival of a king or a sudden attack on the castle from the south side of the Wall.

Quickly, Mormont donned his coat, preparing to go out and investigate. However, before he could open the door, it abruptly swung open. A breathless member of the Watch entered, bringing news that promised to change the course of the day.

“My lord! A group of giants in armor has appeared at the gate!” exclaimed the black brother, clearly desperate. Jeor Mormont, with a skeptical look, left his office and headed to the gate. Upon arriving, he found a crowd of black brothers and recruits, all displaying fear and curiosity about what lay on the other side of the castle wall. Without hesitation, he made his way through them and climbed to the top of the wall.

Looking over to the other side, Mormont could hardly believe his eyes. Before him stood giants, wolves, bears, and shadow cats, varying from 1.2 to 4 meters in height, all wearing imposing armor. In the center of this extraordinary group, a boy mounted on a black wolf appeared to be the leader, surrounded by a few men on horseback.

After a few seconds of trying to process the scene, the boy stepped forward and spoke with a firm voice.

“My name is JON SNOW, son of Eddard Stark, protector of the north. I would like to speak with the Lord Commander and my uncle Benjen Stark!” Jon Snow’s words echoed in the ensuing silence, leaving Jeor Mormont stunned. This was Lord Stark’s bastard who had vanished moons ago, disappeared during an escort. The Night’s Watch had even sent men to search for him, including Benjen Stark, to assist his brother. Two moons later, Lord Stark had sent a raven, informing that the bastard had been found.

“I am the Lord Commander,” Mormont finally responded, still trying to assimilate the situation. “You may meet with me, provided you leave these…” he hesitated, not knowing how to describe Jon’s unusual group. “…companions outside the castle wall,” he concluded.

Jon Snow nodded and, accompanied by two people, walked towards the gate. All of them wore unique armor, made of a greenish metal Mormont had never seen before. The armors were so impressive they would certainly evoke envy across the continent.

However, when Jon Snow passed through the gate, one of the black brothers reacted unexpectedly, freaking out at the presence of the young man and his group.

“It’s HIM, THE DEMON BOY WHO KILLED ALL MY COMPANIONS, HE’S GOING TO KILL US ALL!” the man shouted, casting a look of terror towards Jon Snow. His words caused an immediate uproar among the black brothers and recruits of Castle Black.

“Someone lock that madman in a room, please!” ordered Jeor Mormont, with an unquestionable tone of authority. Quickly, the brothers of the Night’s Watch grabbed the still trembling man and dragged him to the cells.

Meanwhile, the curious and cautious gazes of the people of Castle Black turned towards Jon Snow. To them, he seemed to be anything but an ordinary boy. Accompanied by adults and imposing animals, as well as 4-meter tall men, Jon was surrounded by figures that seemed straight out of ancient legends.

Jeor Mormont, maintaining visible caution, led Jon Snow to his solar, accompanied by guards. Sitting before the young man, he got straight to the point.

“So, Jon Snow, I remember your father asking to leave you here for a year with a raven and you disappeared shortly after. Are you here for that?” The Lord Commander wanted to conclude the meeting as quickly as possible. If necessary, he already planned to send a letter to Lord Stark, explaining that he could not keep Jon and his colossal group at the Wall.

“I am not here to stay for a year, my lord. I came to see my uncle and ask for passage to the other side of the wall,” replied Jon, his calm contrasting with the tension in the room.

Jeor Mormont raised an eyebrow, surprised. “You want me to send you to the other side of the wall? May I ask why?” The incredulity in his voice was evident. Even the guards present in the solar seemed uncomfortable with the young man’s suggestion.

**THIRD-PERSON POV**

**CASTLE BLACK, 290 AC, Same Moment.**

Jon Snow sighed, knowing that the truth was his only viable option; any other excuse would only generate more questions and suspicions.

“I am here at the request of the Old Gods, my lord. There are things I need to do, and first, I must go to the Weirwood tree on the other side of the wall to know my next step after contacting them there,” revealed Jon, his voice laden with seriousness.

These words left Lord Commander Jeor Mormont speechless. The mention of the Old Gods and the Weirwood tree brought a completely new dimension to the conversation. Mormont pondered the implications of this. On one hand, allowing Jon to cross the wall might be the most peaceful and direct option, avoiding potential conflicts within Castle Black with those monsters. On the other hand, Jon was the son of the Lord of the North, and sending a child beyond the Wall was a decision full of risks and consequences, even if the boy was a bastard.

“Do you want me to send a child beyond the wall? Does your father know about this?” Jeor asked, his expression revealing his internal conflict.

“Yes, my lord, I was with my father a few weeks ago and told him about my plan. He would prefer that I didn’t do such a thing,” Jon replied, maintaining his firm determination.

Jeor Mormont looked at Jon for a long moment, evaluating the situation. The decision wasn’t simple, and he knew that any choice he made would have repercussions. However, there was something in Jon’s determination and the mention of the Old Gods that made him hesitate to simply refuse the request.

“With those giants by your side, I doubt you will die to anything beyond the wall. But I want you to write a statement to your father and leave a copy here, to absolve us of responsibility. We have few men and cannot afford to escort you at this time. As for your uncle, he left on a scouting mission and we don’t know when he will return, but it certainly won’t be within two weeks,” Jeor Mormont explained, looking directly at Jon.

Jon nodded, understanding the Lord Commander’s instructions. With the meeting concluded, Mormont allowed Jon to spend a night at the castle. After instructing his group outside the walls to set up camp, the first thing Jon decided to do was look for the library, since the only thing he kept away from his group was his thirst for knowledge. He headed to the Maester’s quarters, knocking on the door while William and Ducken went to set up a camp for the rest of the group.

The door was opened by a very old man, whom Jon quickly realized was blind. The man trembled slightly, but his voice was kind. “How may I assist you?” asked Maester Aemon.

“The Lord Commander told me I would find the castle’s library here, Maester,” Jon replied, noticing Maester Aemon’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“I do not know you, but considering the sound comes from a much lower height than mine and with such a youthful voice, I can only deduce that you are a child, right?” said Aemon, clearly surprised to find such a young new recruit.

“Yes, Maester, I am 9 namedays old, but I’m not here to join the Night’s Watch. I’m only staying one night at the castle and heading north tomorrow. The Lord Commander has granted me passage beyond the Wall,” Jon explained, his seriousness contrasting with his age.

Aemon, hearing this, furrowed his brow, intrigued. “And why would the Lord Commander let you pass beyond the Wall?” he asked, his curiosity evident.

Jon, with a childishly mischievous smile, replied, “I could tell you, Maester, but you have to show me the library for that!” And with a laugh, he expressed his youthful joy.

Aemon couldn’t help but smile at the energy of the child before him and invited him in. Jon was eager to explore the books in the library.

Two hours later, after a fascinating discussion, Aemon commented, “Fascinating, you say the son of the Protector of the North found giants and terrible wolves that should only be legends!” His voice had a dreamy tone. “If this old man could see, he would certainly be very happy seeing such legendary creatures…” said the Maester, with a touch of melancholy in his voice.

“Maester, did you know I can feel life and connect with animals?” Jon revealed, and continued, “And you know what’s strange, Maester? I feel a small connection with you since the moment I saw you, and so far that’s only happened with my father… Lord Stark.” Jon spoke, thoughtful, his hand on his chin.

Aemon remained silent, allowing the boy to finish. There was an air of reflection in the room, as the Maester pondered Jon’s words, realizing there was something extraordinary about the young man before him.

“I don’t know how to explain it, it hasn’t happened with anyone else I’ve met, but not just with you. I also feel a dormant life in this room, Maester. It wants to wake up, but it needs external help!” Jon spoke, conveying a mystery that seemed to transcend him. Aemon, hearing these words, seemed momentarily unbalanced, struck by an unexpected emotion.

“You told me you are Eddard Stark’s bastard, brought here after the war, and are 9 years old, right? Can you tell me what you look like?” Aemon stuttered, an evident unease in his words. Jon found this behavior and the words of the kind Maester strange, and replied, “Yes, Maester… They say I am a spitting image of my father, black hair, grey eyes, and a long face. Now, my eyes have green circles, but that only started over eight moons ago.”

“Little Jon, may I touch your face?” asked Maester Aemon, extending his trembling hand towards the boy’s face. Jon allowed the action, watching curiously. Aemon gently ran his hand over Jon’s face, and an expression of shock and emotion took over him, tears starting to stream down his face.

Jon, confused by the Maester’s reaction, asked cautiously, “Maester, are you alright? What was that?”

“I think it’s just fate, child, just fate!” Aemon replied cheerfully. And then, with a change in tone, he added, “Please, call me Uncle Aemon from now on. I want to tell you a secret.” Jon accepted the old lord’s behavior. Aemon had always been kind to him, and as Jon was a child, he considered the change normal.

“Of course, Uncle Aemon!” Jon said, with a cheerful smile. As a bastard, he had few opportunities to call someone father, uncle, or brother, and didn’t want to miss this rare chance now.

“Go to the bed and drag it away. The floor underneath the bed is removable. You can open it as soon as you move the bed. Take the box inside and bring it here,” instructed Aemon. Jon did exactly as he was told, removing the bed to reveal a small hidden compartment. He took the box and placed it in front of Aemon.

“Young Jon, do you know what this is?” asked Aemon, curious.

“I don’t know, Uncle Aemon, but the life I felt earlier is in there,” Jon replied, his face lit up with anticipation. He was excited, although he didn’t know what kind of life could be inside the box.

“HAHAHA! Maybe there is still hope,” Aemon murmured, more to himself than to Jon. “You know, young Jon, inside this box is the last memory of my family. It always made me sad to think about this box, as it reminded me that I am one of the last members of my lineage, and I am getting older and older. And today, a 9-year-old boy has given me hope. You have made me feel happier now than in the last decades. HEHEHE.” Aemon started to laugh softly, leaving Jon wondering about what he was talking about.

“What happened to your family, Uncle?” Jon asked innocently.

“Sad things, little Jon, sad things. But my name is Aemon Targaryen.” The revelation left Jon in shock. A member of the legendary dragon family was there, in front of him. “Then what was in the box could only be one thing,” Jon thought.

“A dragon egg…” murmured Jon to himself, and Aemon smiled at the boy’s conclusion.

“Yes, young Jon, a dragon egg. When I was your age, I dreamed of raising my own dragon. And when I received this egg from my family, I could never part with it. But now I am 90 years old, Jon. Soon this old man will die, but you, child, I believe you will hatch the egg!” Aemon said, his voice filled with hope.

“But Uncle, isn’t this too valuable to give to a child you met today?” Jon questioned, hesitant to accept the egg. He was moved by the Maester’s words, but after all, he was just a bastard from the North, receiving a dragon egg that even the crown prince did not possess.

“I understand your doubts, Jon, but rest assured that I am not making a mistake. I want you to hatch the egg and bring dragons back to the world. And if I have the opportunity to see it, please bring it here to the castle on your next visit,” Aemon spoke, as if he were in a happy dream.

Jon opened the box and took out a white stone. Upon touching it, he felt the pulsating life inside it and the warmth emanating from the rock. It was a magical and surreal moment, a bastard from the North holding a Targaryen legacy, a dragon egg that promised to forever change his destiny.

“It’s warm, uncle! I can feel it just by touching! Uncle, I will hatch this dragon, I will bring them back to the world!” Jon exclaimed, his voice overflowing with joy and determination. Having giant wolves and other animals was one thing, but having a living dragon? Jon had long dreamed of one. Aemon, moved, let more tears fall again from his eyes.

“Of course it’s warm, boy… And I am sure that you will bring dragons back,” Aemon said, sharing the boy’s happiness.

“Uncle, you are happy, but I can see that age is weighing on you. I don’t think you will be able to hatch this egg anytime soon. That’s why I want to give you something. You might not believe it, but I have some knowledge given by the Gods and understand alchemy!” Jon revealed.

“Alchemy?! That is extraordinary for a child of 9 namedays, Jon!” Aemon expressed his genuine admiration.

“It’s hard to believe, uncle, but if you can believe in a 9-nameday-old boy, I have a rejuvenation potion. I made it with medicinal herbs that I cultivated myself. I will leave this bottle here with you. As you are very old, the amount in the pot might be harmful, so put in 100 ml and mix it with 400 ml of water. Do this once a day, for a week.” Jon explained that he would deliver the potion as soon as Ducken returned and would ask him to retrieve it from the wagon.

Jon and Aemon spent more hours talking, and Jon took the opportunity to take several books about the North and the Wall. He spent the entire night reading these books after taking an energy potion he had prepared himself, allowing him to stay awake all night, since his time at Castle Black would soon end the next day.

The next day, Jon talked with Aemon, who seemed much more energetic, surprising everyone in the castle. The old Maester was so cheerful that he almost seemed ready to jump, sing, and dance, leaving everyone around him astonished. It seemed that he had taken the first dose of the potion Jon had instructed him to take. Jon wanted to do more for the Maester, especially for his blind eyes, but knew he did not yet have the power or knowledge for such. However, he harbored the hope that, when he returned, he might one day be able to restore sight to the old Maester.

Finally, Jon’s group passed through the gates of Castle Black. All the men of the Night’s Watch were armed, ready for any conflict, while the castle trembled slightly under the steps of the giants and animals. Jon noticed the hatred of some watchers, some for his father being the Protector of the North, others simply for who he was. But the boy ignored everything and continued his stay peacefully under the protection of Jeor Mormont.

As they crossed to the north of the Wall, the armored giants had some difficulty passing through the tunnel due to their sizes. Once they stepped into the northernmost part of the continent, everyone who had never been there before was surprised by the change in the air. Jon looked at the snow-covered horizon and sighed, then began walking with the group.

“I hope my father does not get too angry when he finds out I crossed the wall alone, but it’s necessary, and I have the most powerful escort on the continent, so I’ll be fine!” Jon thought, looking at the sky. “My real adventure begins now!”

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