[Chapter Size: 3900 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Arctic, 300 AC.

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Jon looked at the board, completing the last missing part, placing it at the top, where it pointed to lines and instructions from an ancient civilization long destroyed, the same place from which the map had been taken.

He took a few steps back, observing it as a whole. Jon was in the family vault, in a place even more reinforced than the very sanctuary his family had once used during the war; the vault lay even deeper beneath the sanctuary.

The map showed a secret path leading into Valyria, all the way to the main mountain of Valyria, where the principal families resided, far more powerful than the Targaryens were at that time.

After all, in Valyria, the Targaryens did not hold their position among the greatest houses of the Dragon Empire; they were nobles and among the 40 families of dragonlords, but they were a family of low standing. They only truly rose after the destruction of the empire itself, having survived solely because they had heeded the prophetic dream of Daenys, the Dreamer.

“So this is where I must go one day… There would certainly be no way to find this place without a map, not in the condition Valyria is in today. I will have to see it as well in the green vision,” Jon murmured, thinking aloud. He was alone in the vault.

He did not know what he would find in Valyria, but it was important enough that it would not be easy. Valyria guarded its dangers. There were creatures that had suffered mutations and also that strange roar he had heard when he was leaving, certainly coming from the highest mountains.

Probably, Jon would not be surprised if he found a dragon there trying to kill him. And it was gigantic, its roar even surpassing Vezofēdrur.

In any case, he memorized the map in his mind. The three parts that had taken him several years to gather were complete, but that would have his attention later.

For now, he had to turn his attention to the armors stored there. An armor that was not in his personal arsenal, which he liked to keep in the castle on display, along with his other armors that he had worn and liked, even some he had created but never used, kept in an Armory, an isolated and guarded room.

He picked up the armor itself, wrapped like a pile of Valyrian steel with a rope, and pulled it to place over his shoulders.

He walked past the piles of gold that were in his vault, every kind of treasure made in Arctic, taken from the mines and turned into gold coins, both those of Westeros and those used in Essos, as well as conquered treasures.

His vault held at least 10 million gold coins, not to mention the jewels, artifacts, and Valyrian steel stored there.

They were piles upon piles of gold that would make even the Lannisters feel poor, as he passed through the mountains of gold.

Jon left the vault with the armor on his shoulder and followed outside accompanied by the guards who awaited him at the entrance and closed the vault soon after.

Jon went to a meeting with his ministers; Ducken, Brynden, and Thor were waiting for him for an audience. The day after that was basically taken up by strategic meetings. Jon would depart the following day.

When the military strategy meetings finally ended, Jon called Bran, who was surprised to see the armor displayed on a platform. It was much larger than him, certainly an adult’s armor.

“This will be for you to use. I haven’t had time yet to have a custom armor made, but this one will be used. I will ask Thor’s men to work on it after taking your measurements. It will bear the Stark symbol on the chest and will be for your use when you return to the northern kingdom,” Jon said.

Bran looked surprised and could not help but show an excited gleam at the thought of wearing armor like Jon, the royal guards, his uncle, and Arya.

“Thank you, Jon,” Bran murmured excitedly, though slightly embarrassed.

It was not every day that someone received a Valyrian steel armor. He even thought about refusing, but after seeing how common Valyrian steel was there, being used among the best and those in the highest positions, and seeing his uncle personally receive an armor, Bran did not refuse; he was excited to wear armor like a legendary knight.

After that, Jon went to meet with his family, inviting Bran and all those close to the family to a banquet. In addition to the ladies-in-waiting, friends came as well. Ducken and his three daughters were also among them.

There was joy among the children. Rickon immediately clung to him and did not want to let him go, asking for a Valyrian steel armor when he found out that Bran would receive one in the coming days. He only said that he would receive one sometime in the future, when he could carry one, having to be strong for that.

“I will be very strong!” Rickon shouted, before running off to play with his sons.

Jon’s young boys were quite hurt because of the war. Bran had cried in the last few days, and Jon had to hold him in his arms to calm him for most of the banquet, saying that he would return and would only be away for a few moons.

Lyanna also cried and became irritated easily. None of the children liked the idea that Jon would leave for another war. He had explained several times, even sternly, that it was for their future, for the future of the family. Arctic had enemies that needed to be destroyed, and that was why they would depart.

This war would be different from the last, different from fighting monsters while remaining with the family; Jon would have to travel thousands of miles in a war on distant lands. His children did not want their father to go away.

But that did not prevent comments that amused Jon at the banquet. Jaehaerys said that he should wait a little longer, until he grew big enough to fight alongside his father, while Loki wanted to accompany him immediately.

Jon had fun with that, but he had to make it very clear that this would be a battle he would fight and win alone. His children would hear his stories and songs and, when they grew up, they would have a future with fewer wars and more stability left to them.

Jon also held his youngest close as well, his great joy that night. Little Ned was very tired, and Val ended up giving him more attention. Jon only held the baby for a few moments before returning him to his mother, who took him to the nursery.

He spent time with little Visenya, Aegon, Aemon, Daemon, and Laena and the others, though he did not fail to give special attention to the two girls, who delighted in his arms. Jon was already beginning to think he was more prone to fathering sons — there were seven boys and only three girls.

His daughters babbled happily, trying to form words but failing miserably. After some time, he returned them to their mothers.

His wives were discussing something among themselves. Jon knew that, since it was his last night there, they would be debating how they would spend that night. The husband’s last night before war was certainly something they all wanted to make the most of.

Even Val, who had given birth only a few days ago but had already recovered from the pregnancy, wanted her husband.

They did not even ask Jon, which was a relief, as he did not want to choose one and leave the others aside; they simply discussed it among themselves. He decided to let them resolve it on their own, seeing how committed they were. So he went to drink with his friends and relatives. He would leave the kingdom with his dragon and meet the army already prepared in the West.

He did not mind drinking that night. After all, he had means to detoxify himself or even eliminate any hangover the next morning. He just wanted to enjoy it. He would not see his family for the next few moons, perhaps even for a year. He did not know what would happen in the south, and wars were always volatile.

When he went to the bedroom, after speaking with Seryna, who approached him saying that the person chosen to spend the night with him had already been decided and that she herself would go personally as a surprise, Jon raised an eyebrow, but he did not spy on his wives or what that surprise would be.

He went to the bedroom, took a bath in his tub already prepared for him, and the moment the door opened, it was not just one woman who entered.

Seryna, Ygritte, Rhaenys, Daenerys, Hiyori, and Val entered the room.

Jon raised an eyebrow at the six women coming in wearing new dresses.

“For that, I was not expecting…” he merely murmured, and he heard Daenerys laugh.

“Well, we are going to have a shared night. We are already used to sleeping in pairs with you, so I think today we can make an exception tonight,” she said.

Jon sat on the bed and looked at his wives, forming a smile. “Very well.” He did not back down from the challenge.

The night was long and lively for the King of Arctic, and he awoke over the body of one of his beauties, whom he called wife, with the bed surrounded by naked bodies.

He had barely slept that night; perhaps he had managed an hour of sleep. The children were all in other rooms. Val had left Ned with Della, sleeping beside her son, in her and Mance’s chamber in the castle. Even the other children, upon hearing that all the queens would sleep in the king’s room, had wanted to join, which drew laughter from the women the night before. They said they could not, as those were matters for adults, for the mommies and daddy.

The next morning, he enjoyed a little more time with his children, repeating some stories about his travels. He spent a while with them that morning, almost turning it into a full day of storytelling.

At the end of it, he met with Marwyn and Aemon, while they were in an enormous ravenry that Arctic possessed. Jon looked at Marwyn, who stood beside Maester Aemon.

“Is everything ready, then?”

“Yes. We took more than two years to prepare everything. All the ravens are ready to go to each requested house.”

“Excellent. Then prepare to open all the doors. Our years of work will finally be carried out,” Jon said, satisfied.

All the ravens carried extensive messages about the maesters throughout the West, revealing the true state of the Order of Maesters, how it was filled with greed and how the lords were made fools of, being controlled by them through whispers in their ears, with the maesters omitting and providing false information for the sake of the Order.

For each lord, there was also specific information about how each maester had acted within his house, directing decisions and influencing paths. They had gathered many documents of orders for plunder from the vault of the Citadel and from the Order of Maesters itself, with the Grand Maesters being the main ones responsible, wanting to control the Seven Kingdoms from behind the scenes.

Most of them were already dead, cut down by the Darksister Jon had used at the time and by Seryna’s hammer, as they had slaughtered them mercilessly years earlier. But now they would no longer be seen as victims.

Jon observed each of the white ravens he had chosen for this task. There were at least two thousand of them. They would carry information to the great houses, the lesser ones, and even to other organizations.

“Good. Let us begin.”

With a simple command, Jon watched his men open all the cages and made all the ravens begin to fly. There was a huge window at the top of the place left open, and the sky of Arctic filled with two thousand cawing ravens, departing for the West, where they would join the fleet and continue south.

They would fly to the requested houses, but they would make stops to rest on the ships before advancing to their destinations.

Jon left the place after that. He returned to the castle, already finding everyone waiting for him. He merely said that he would prepare himself and would soon return to say his farewells.

Most of the things had already been taken to the West along with the cargo, but he still wanted to bring some personal items, including his own white and blue armor, symbolizing the kingdom, while also bearing the sigils of House Stark and House Targaryen upon it. He would be going to avenge the Starks and Targaryens, as well as fighting on behalf of the realm beyond the Wall.

Jon would go with Arya atop Eragon to the West. He spent a few moments with his family, speaking with them before heading to the area where they awaited him. He mounted his classic horse, Panis, and rode with a small procession through the kingdom toward its outskirts, with Eragon waiting for him, no longer able to enter the city due to his size.

The people of Arctic gathered around their king. Everyone already knew the details after the Senate meeting, where the king had personally spoken with the representatives, who later relayed the information to the people.

The people shouted wishes of good luck, spoke of ending the southerners, or asked him to protect their husbands and sons who would also take part in the war. Jon gave a slight wave to them all.

Finally, they left the city. He was surrounded by his children and wives for their farewells when he dismounted. He said goodbye to each one until he turned and went to Eragon, with Arya already waiting for him.

Jon climbed onto the dragon, and Arya came right behind, settling herself in front of Jon after he secured his and his cousin’s baggage, along with their other belongings, to the dragon’s saddle.

With just a mental command, Eragon moved and surged into the sky, leaving the kingdom behind.

A few dozen minutes later, flying over the mountains and leaving the kingdom behind, they encountered a massive cloud of white ravens heading in the same direction as them. However, Eragon was much faster. It would probably take the ravens a day or two to arrive, while the dragon would take only a few hours.

They continued their journey as they passed the Fist of the First Men.

“Are you nervous?” Jon asked as they flew smoothly through the sky. He felt Arya shifting slightly in front of him as they spoke.

“A little,” she admitted. “We are returning not only to the North, but to Westeros. To where those people treated us arrogantly on our first journey.”

Arya remembered her trip very well when she was eleven years old, more than five years ago.

“It was not that bad,” Jon said. “Despite some offenses, we were still treated well in the general context.”

“Jon, they only saw an opportunity to make money from you. They always looked at you as if you were a lucky man who somehow created something beyond the Wall,” Arya retorted. “Lord Hightower’s trap was only a consequence of what they already wanted to do. They only held the rest back because of the restrictions you imposed on the goods. I am sure some still hold open disrespect against you. They saw us as savages trying to be civilized.”

“Since when have you been giving me lessons?” Jon remarked, laughing.

Arya merely shrugged.

“But I know very well all of that.”

“I know you know. You are just pretending to be naïve. But tell me, Jon, what do you plan to do with the people who once treated you like a nobody or an inferior, in secret, even though you had strength, resources, and a powerful army? Even if they did not say it to your face…” Arya said.

She was nervous, but not out of fear. It was anticipation. She already foresaw meeting many of those people again.

“I will deal with them as it should be done, Arya. I am no longer the same boy as before. The name and the money must carry some weight, but the name they will truly fear will be that of an entire kingdom defeating every lord. They may have known me as Jon Snow, now as Aegon Targaryen, but it will be the name Jon Arctic that will make them kneel and tremble,” Jon replied firmly.

“I will be at your side, fighting against all of them, Jon,” Arya declared.

Jon nodded and remained silent. The journey continued for some time until the coast finally appeared on the horizon, about two hours after they had left Arctic.

The coast was filled with ships and with a small yet considerable town they had planned to raise there. There were more than three hundred ships built over the course of about two moons, with more than ten thousand dwarves working frantically, while Jon passed by from time to time to supervise.

Eragon landed outside the town, and Lancelot, Barristan Selmy, and other royal guards came to receive them.

Jon removed the bags fastened to Eragon’s saddle as he approached his men alongside Arya.

“Take the things to the ship. We will prepare to leave in two days,” Jon ordered.

The guards took the armor and the bags Jon had brought, while he walked with Lancelot, who gave him a detailed report about the place together with the dwarf leader of the town and supervisor of the naval constructions. They had arrived there a week earlier and were preparing to receive the king and depart with three hundred ships and more than twenty thousand men. It was not as long a voyage as others they had made before, so they were able to accommodate more soldiers on the vessels.

Of those twenty thousand soldiers, among them, there were two thousand giants and more than five thousand knights, all armed with Valyrian steel and special steel forged in Arctic.

“We will stay two days here. I want to inspect everything and also wait a little for the birds. We will not need them catching up to us in the middle of the sea,” Jon told them.

Thus a day passed. Jon gave a speech to the town, thanking them for their services in the naval construction and declaring that the town would not be dismantled but transformed into a new port. There was already a route to it, even if long, from Arctic to that coast, and it would be used in the future.

That was the third point where a city would be created north of the Wall. Arctic had been the first. There were plans for Hardhome to become a massive port, intermediating goods before they went to the kingdom, and there, in the West, the third strategic point would arise.

In any case, Jon personally helped his men with the final preparations for the ships.

He and Arya slept in a two-story house in the town. The next morning, they were together at the table, filled with fresh fruit and fish caught at sea before dawn.

“We will prepare to depart tomorrow at last,” Jon said, as Lancelot began issuing orders.

The town sprang into motion. The men who had built the ships would return to Arctic, while some would remain to keep the town functioning and in constant communication with the capital through the ravens.

The city became frenetic. The armies marched toward the ships, one after another, while the vessels moved in and out of the harbor. The space at the docks was limited, but the work was organized and swift. By nightfall, the ships were already loaded with the army of twenty thousand men who would depart for the south.

All the ships were loaded with weapons, wildfire, and supplies for a long war.

Jon went with Arya to the flagship, built to serve as the admiral of the fleet, the one that would command all the others. Jon could have departed, but he waited until the following day, asking everyone to rest on the ships while they awaited the ravens’ arrival.

“Is everyone ready?” Jon asked Lancelot.

As he spoke, he visualized each of the ships through the small birds circling the sky. Among them were Phoenix and Bleufire, Jon’s classic eagles, and also the son of Caraxes. They were his favorite eyes in the sky when he departed for battles or wars. These birds would accompany him to the south and once again follow him into war, as they had during the sack of Oldtown, the naval battle in the south, the fight in Yi-Ti, and the war against the Khals in the Dothraki desert.

A sound came from beside him, and Jon did not fail to look at a third eagle standing on the deck, this one very different from the other two.

“It seems that at last we will be fighting together, Caraxes,” Jon murmured, looking at the eagle attentively. The eagle was the size of a horse and wore a saddle. It was strong enough to carry Jon.

He would take it mainly to the south, since he would act alone on certain occasions, and having an eagle able to carry him through the skies, without drawing as much attention as a dragon, would be perfect for certain plans.

“Now let us go,” Jon ordered. The ship’s captain nodded and began shouting orders to the men.

Jon went to the edge of the deck. Eragon stared at him from the shore the entire time. He had already bid the dragon farewell, yet even so Eragon had remained there all night, visibly indignant at not accompanying him. Jon needed him to stay in the North, at least until the conquest of King’s Landing.

He heard his men at work, beginning to move the ships. Arya approached, but Jon kept his gaze fixed on the shore.

“It is time. We depart for the south. After all, we have seven kingdoms to conquer.” With those words from the king, the ships began to gain speed, slowly advancing southward. The city cried out in farewell, while the vessels grew more and more distant, until, in less than an hour, they disappeared beyond the horizon.

The white ravens passed through the western town the next day, pressing onward to the sea with the aim of reaching the fleet, which was already sailing between the line of the Wall and the south.

At the same time, Jon had a vast group of birds already within the ships, ready to be released. He would spread an extensive web of espionage, maintaining a bond with thousands of eagles.

Westeros would have the eyes of its enemy upon it before it even realized. The conquest was already beginning at that very moment.

And Jon possessed the greatest weapon anyone could have in a war: real-time information.

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