[Chapter Size: 3400 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Arctic, 298 AC.

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Jon headed north on Ghost, while darkness was already the only thing visible on the horizon. The great tree glowed, managing to illuminate Arctica for one more day of darkness.

He left Ghost near the main area, while the army was still organizing itself around the place. The king made his way to the main hall after checking on the dragons, which, besides Vezofēdrur, also included Eragon and all the other dragons that had landed in the north after finding nothing in the sky for a while.

Jon found Arya and Val waiting for him at the entrance of the place; Val had rested yesterday. Arya, however, had taken her night shift but still wanted to keep fighting today.

“You managed to catch the Lannister?” Arya asked immediately.

“Yes. She went to the castle with Seryna. Anyway, how are things?” Jon said, passing by them and heading to the main table, where Ducken was analyzing things along with Benjen and other men. Lancelot approached alongside Jon, following him the entire time as always.

“Any movement from the enemy?” Jon asked, while Ducken shook his head.

“No. Nothing yet. They haven’t moved from their position.” The general reported.

“I see. But even so, divide our forces into 25% on each side with 50% in the north.” Jon said, passing over the map. “We have eighty thousand men fighting today. We’ll place twenty thousand on each flank, since it’s very likely they’re using the strategy of attacking from the sides as well, as they’ve been doing these past few weeks.” Jon said in a serious tone.

“That is already being arranged, my king.” Ducken said.

“Good. Uncle, I want you to help Arya. She will take command of the west side and will take the Unsullied.” Jon said to Benjen, while Arya raised an eyebrow from where she stood, surprised that Jon had given her the order to command thousands of men for the first time.

“Jon?” she asked cautiously, and Jon opened a smile for his cousin.

“It’s time to test your leadership skills.” Jon said, while she still couldn’t help feeling a bit shaken.

Jon could have placed anyone else in command, but he wanted to put Arya there to see how she would handle it, since over the past two months she had only been following orders. He could have even put his uncle in charge, but his uncle didn’t have the training Arya had under troop command; he had only trained to be a stealth ranger, not to command armies.

“All right.” Arya murmured softly, but gaining a bit of confidence.

“I will stay with you.” Val didn’t wait a second to announce that, not wanting Jon to send her somewhere else.

“Right. You will stay with me.” Jon said, and returned to some Arcticans who handled the war logistics. “How are the equipment maintenance and supplies?” Jon asked, while a man picked up and handed him a scroll.

“This just arrived from yesterday. All items have been restocked in the warehouses, and the damaged equipment has also received maintenance.” The man said, showing the list to Jon while he studied it quickly.

“That symbol belongs to Willian.” Ducken couldn’t help but notice the symbol of the old blacksmith friend, whom they had met in the north before Jon crossed the Wall for the first time, and who worked in one of the sectors, having his own private workshop. He had his personal symbol, and it seemed that the day before he had taken over the maintenance of the equipment damaged in the battles.

Jon felt a silence as he read the list. He cast a quick glance at it and stored it away. He just wanted to stay alert to everything; if he needed any information, he would have it kept in his mind.

“Anyway, I’ll leave one of the royal guards to lead the army on the other side, the east.” Jon said, while people began discussing strategy. He would stay with Val, Lancelot, and Ducken in the center, and the day passed with the absence of the sun.

There was no movement from the undead for the rest of the day, even with the men maintaining battle positions the entire time. By late afternoon, after more than nine hours in total darkness, the Arcticans began switching shifts with the other troops, while more than seventy thousand men coming from shelters and homes began replacing those who had been holding position throughout the day.

Jon was near his dragons, sitting on a rock with his sword buried in the ground, while a crystal at his waist illuminated the area. Lancelot and other royal guards were at a short distance, but left him alone, since he wanted it that way, liking to think a bit during these moments.

Jon ate military rations and drank water from a canteen after drinking energy potions; it was then that he sensed someone approaching after passing through the royal guards. His eyes turned to his cousin, wearing her armor, while her helmet was also at her waist, hanging from the hook Jon used to use.

“You look tired.” Jon said, still drinking water, as she stopped in front of him. Thankfully, Eragon was the dragon closest to them; if Vezofēdrur were that dragon, it would certainly be a problem for anyone trying to approach Jon, as that dragon would immediately try to chase Arya away for attempting to get near them on her own.

“If you think I’m going to leave my post, you’re wrong.” Arya said firmly, while Jon raised an eyebrow. “You know we can put someone else in your place, Arya. You don’t need to spend this night fighting.”

“Just like you, Jon. You were at your post all day and, even so, you’re here today, fighting one more day and taking potions, from what I see.” She said stubbornly, looking at the empty potion vials at his feet.

Jon had to take a bit of energy booster, obviously, since his body might not endure until feeling the real adrenaline in the middle of battle. But nothing had happened all day long; it would have to be tonight.

“I’m sure something is going to happen. A big attack will come before dawn, so I can’t leave this post.” Jon said, and Arya scoffed.

“Exactly why I’m not leaving my post either, Jon. I need to maintain the command you gave me, I want to prove it to myself! And Val also said she would stay.” She said, and Jon, despite raising an eyebrow, said nothing. It seemed neither of them would listen to the other, since they were just as stubborn as he was.

“Just take the energy boosters. I don’t want to imagine you collapsing in the middle of the battle.” Arya smiled upon hearing that from him, while she approached and sat beside him, their armors practically touching — an intimate gesture.

“Why did you choose me as commander?” She murmured, pouting.

“You trained years ago for this. And it seems you did very well commanding three hundred Unsullied. You’ve been brave against the dead these last two moons…” Jon said.

“But you put me in command of twenty thousand men, that’s nowhere near the experience I have!” She said, a little worried.

“You won’t be alone, and you know our legion system. It’s organized enough that even you will have an easy time commanding them. You don’t need to go around shouting like I do. Nobody else does that.” Jon said.

“Well, nobody else has magic, right? Like you.” She huffed, and Jon shrugged.

“Just stay alive, Arya. Don’t go into the fight—stay in command.” Jon said in a serious tone, and Arya could swear he was putting her in command precisely so she wouldn’t be on the front lines of the war…

“All right.” Was all she said, despite her doubts, as she grabbed a bag with a strap over her shoulder and opened it, taking out a few vials. She drank them one after another, remaining silent as both of them watched the troops prepare for the next shift.

Arya drank three potions and grimaced. “You should improve the taste of this.” She said, while Jon opened his canteen and offered it to her.

“This should help.” Was all he said, and she took it from his hand, drinking to wash the bad taste from her mouth.

“And I wonder how father is doing in the south.” She said. In fact, they hadn’t received any more news. Actually, if Lord Stark had sent a letter — which most likely had happened — any raven coming from the south had been shot down by the zombie birds still flying around the region.

“I wish I knew as well, Arya.” Jon said with a sigh. “Joy told me that while the sun is lasting only three hours here, it’s the same in the south. And it seems to be decreasing more and more. The maesters say it’s a unique event in the world, something that hasn’t happened in thousands of years, which coincidentally matches the ancient records of the Long Night, when it happened. But no one believes it. They don’t even believe we are fighting the dead — even with us staying isolated from the rest of the world, many think we are preparing something big.” Jon said, and couldn’t help but laugh.

“If I remember those records, soon the sun won’t rise at all.” She said, frowning, and Jon nodded with a somber look toward the darkness and the storm still outside Arctica — a storm that never dissipated — and the main White Walkers were inside that vortex.

Not even the dragons, who attempted an operation with Jon to unleash flames, managed it. He was nearly struck by an ice spear that flew from the vortex directly toward them.

So they were throwing barrels of wildfire onto the ice, which burned and caused explosions, with about forty percent of them successfully detonating. Even so, they were never able to actually eliminate those behind the army of the dead, since the storm never ended.

“If you want to know the latest news from the south…” Jon broke the silence again to speak about the south. “Tywin Lannister’s brother is heading to Winterfell, and everyone in Westeros is gathering in King’s Landing…” Jon explained.

They talked a bit more, theorizing about what the south would do after what had happened in Winterfell. Arya kept drinking with Jon while they talked, until both had to return to their posts. Jon stood up.

Arya went to Nymeria, mounted the wolf, and headed west, while Jon went north with Lancelot and Ducken, taking the same position as earlier. Ducken and Lancelot also went to rest, taking energy potions.

They stayed for a few more hours and, coincidentally, when midnight came, after six hours standing in the same position, with everyone maintaining profound silence and the dragons circling and occasionally flying over the area, they soon began to notice something within the storm’s fog.

“Prepare everyone for orders. They’re starting to move.” Jon said after seeing through the dragons’ eyes, who roared in the sky with the announcement. They could see, in a superficial way, what happened inside the storm, and when there was major movement, they could feel it.

“Everyone, prepare yourselves!” Ducken shouted, as trumpets began echoing through the place. Soon the sound of drums followed, beginning with the same rhythm they kept on the first day of war. Quickly, everyone lined up while waiting for the enemy.

It didn’t take long for small shapes to begin flying over the storm, while the movement of the undead with their growls began to emerge. They could see the storm even growing around the wall as the dead started running toward the sides, trying to catch them by the flanks. They already had twenty thousand men positioned on each flank and more than thirty thousand at the center.

Due to the reduced number of birds — which had decreased since the first day and in the following days as the dragons hunted through the skies of Arctica — there was no longer a need to keep so many soldiers in the city to protect the skies.

All three lines waited. Arya swallowed hard on her side, while she stood with her uncle Benjen, more royal guards, and other commanders to assist her. Jon had already passed on the type of information they needed to keep track of. The giants would be placed in front, in the hordes of animals, while the men and women of Arctica would fight the creatures. Arrows began to rain down, and regardless of whether it was a man or an undead animal, at first they would all be massacred by the dragonglass arrowheads.

The walls of Arctica were over twenty-five meters tall and very thick. There had been a crack here and there due to the first impact from the wildfire explosion, but they were quickly repaired with clay and cement produced in the kingdom in the days that followed.

Even so, although the wall was so tall, at that very moment they could feel several creatures slamming against it, as they began piling over one another, their growls echoing. Jon unsheathed his sword and raised it.

“Throw the wildfire!” He said, while the sealed barrels of wildfire with lit fuses were fired by catapults, launched by giants who quickly armed the structures and hurled them above the wall, into the fog, where moments later they exploded.

All three sides were launching barrels at a distance slightly away from the wall, but also positioned so that it wouldn’t damage it or ignite it — it would be shooting themselves in the foot to destroy their own defense. Even so, they managed to eliminate part of the dead farther from the wall.

Especially in the north, as more and more barrels were launched and explosions erupted, accompanied by cries and roars of creatures consumed by the green flames.

Even so, the roars continued, and soon, atop the wall, the first creatures began to appear, descending.

“This…” Jon murmured, seeing the black legs — which meant only one type of creature they would use that night. Ice spiders.

“Shield formation for the giants!” Jon exclaimed, as the group of giants quickly stepped forward, raising their shields and placing them in front, creating a massive barrier. They grabbed their spears and positioned them in the gaps between each shield. The shields were not only made to fit perfectly together, forming a solid wall, but also had a small hole — half in one shield, half in the other — so they could place their spears through and pierce the enemies, either by thrusting forward or keeping them as spikes. There was also the rectangular slit in the middle of the eldenmetal shield so the giants could see through them.

Jon was on top of Ghost, having a better view due to his height, while he watched several enormous spiders, as huge as horses, start to entangle with one another and fall like a cascade from the wall before getting up and rushing directly toward the first group.

“Hold the formation!” Jon shouted, looking at Ducken, who immediately understood and raised his Valyrian steel sword.

“Archers!” Ducken shouted, as more than five thousand archers grabbed dragonglass-tipped arrows, readying themselves as more and more giant spiders began to fall.

“Fire!” Ducken yelled immediately.

The volley of arrows shot into the sky before beginning to rain down directly onto the enemy, piercing them a moment later. The spiders’ screams roared as they died — an extremely irritating noise, but something they had already gotten used to after two moons of war.

The spiders began falling one after another as more tumbled down. Some managed to get past the arrow range and advanced straight toward the shield wall, hurling themselves at the shields. But the giants quickly moved their spears, aiming through the eye-level hole in the shield to see, striking the spiders and dropping them dead one after another.

Jon could see that, in the other areas, the same thing had begun. Through the dragons in the sky, he could see his royal guard commander on the east side doing well, while Arya on the west side was also doing just fine holding the formation and firing arrows.

Soon, it wasn’t just giant spiders managing to jump the wall — wights of giants, bears, huge wolves, and men were also piling up one after another. At a certain point, a massive mound began forming right on top of the wall, projecting its shadow within the storm.

The White Walkers also had the strategy of stacking the undead on top of one another to simply hurl them forward in mass over the wall, creating an avalanche of bodies that crushed even those still getting up after reaching the other side.

“Fire!!” Ducken shouted as another volley of arrows was launched like a whirlwind, with a thunder-like sound, falling right along the side of the wall and hitting most of the creatures.

“Keep going! Hold your position!” Jon yelled, with the sound of the drums echoing behind them.

This was the kind of war they were already used to facing. And new piles of bodies began to form, with another wave of undead coming, but still manageable.

The dragons also appeared at that moment, descending from the sky as they unleashed flames over the storm. New mountains of undead began forming, each one larger than the last. They were trying to launch a group large enough to get past the arrows, since they were no longer as effective — even with five thousand archers on each side exterminating everything, for a single touch of dragonglass made the bodies unravel.

Jon continued watching, satisfied, until he saw one of the dragons breathing fire on the west side, before an ice spear flew from within the fog, heading directly toward him. Jon quickly entered the dragon’s mind and tried to make it spin, but it was already too late to dodge entirely.

At least only the wing was hit, the spear piercing through it as that gray-colored dragon roared in pain, losing altitude and beginning to fall. Even falling inside the walls, it was still far too close to the battle lines.

“This is bad… Ducken, keep the men in position. I need to help that dragon before the others reach him! Lancelot, I’m leaving you in charge of giving me cover!” Jon said, since the undead were quite close to the dragon and would reach it soon.

“With me!” Jon shouted, as Ghost quickly charged through the soldiers along the path the formations had opened for him to run between the troops when necessary. Others followed behind, shouting orders, but Ghost was much faster than any other land animal of his size.

He headed straight for the dragon, whose wing was damaged, before Ghost leaped over it and Jon jumped from the wolf, landing on the ground.

“Come on! Try to get out of here!” He shouted to the dragon, issuing a mental order.

The dragon tried to rise. The spear had pierced through its wing and fallen a few meters ahead, but even so, the skin had been torn and blood poured out, hitting one of the main veins in the wing. Still, the dragon began to struggle to move.

Jon saw at least five hundred undead running toward them after they left arrow range. He put his helmet on and unsheathed Blackfyre.

Ghost growled at his side as Jon prepared to face the swarm of undead.

They were just about to reach him when, at the last moment, a cavalry group surged forward, dragonglass spears in hand, striking the dead before they could reach their king.

The place descended into complete chaos as Ghost and Jon advanced, cutting through the first undead in the midst of the confusion, with more than two thousand mounted Arcticans coming to assist the king and protect the dragon, while the other dragons arrived to spit fire at the enemy as well.

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