[Chapter Size: 3600 Words.]
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Third Person POV
North, 298 AC.
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A new moon had passed since the last attack, and while the battles did not cease and the white walkers seemed determined to destroy Arctic, the clash continued.
They did not leave the place at any moment, always keeping the main force within the storm north of Arctic, with the storm and the mist still trying to pass through the kingdom's invisible barrier, but without success.
This desire to destroy Arctic was so great that it even intrigued King Jon Arctic himself, since he expected that, with each lost battle and with fewer and fewer men in the army of the dead, the white walkers would return to trying other types of approaches, or even ignore Arctic and fall to the south. But they did not do that, remaining there for the last three moons, attacking constantly 'day' and night.
While this happened, Jon wanted news from the south and began sending ravens, since there had been no further response from Winterfell. The last things Jon knew were that Tywin's brother, Kevan, had arrived in Winterfell, that part of the south was gathering in King's Landing — at least the Lannisters, the Tyrells, and many of the great lords of Storm's End — seeming to form a huge alliance. Something like that, perhaps, against Arctic. Jon did not know, but they would certainly make their political moves.
He did not doubt that, now that Sansa Stark was unavailable, they could no longer try to marry her to Joffrey. Margaery Tyrell would probably be much more available. An alliance with the Tyrells would grant a much greater strength to the Crown, given that the Starks were now possible enemies to the north, allies of Arctic.
At the same time, the Vale and the Riverlands also seemed to be sending men to the Crownlands, like the men of the Vale, while the Martells sent Princess Arianne. But, at the same time, they behaved strangely — they said that Oberyn had traveled to Essos urgently.
Jon obtained all this information from Joy Hill herself, who ended up opening up and telling what she heard inside Casterly Rock as she became accustomed to her new life here in this war-torn kingdom, mainly because her aunt Genna spent all her time gossiping, as she was the only adult Lannister close to Tywin and his brother inside the castle. Sometimes Joy caught her grumbling alone in some isolated area.
The ravens Jon sent were all shot down by the dead. He did not understand why he could not communicate with the south, or even receive a message, which must have been killed before reaching Arctic. His uncle in Winterfell clearly should be sending ravens, quite worried about the war they were waging.
Seeing the sun rise and fall on the horizon in just a few hours, running in real time before their eyes, darkness prolonged far beyond what a night should have… this should be some kind of sign for the southerners about what was happening in the world, in the North...
No one had heard news of Arctic since then.
At that moment, the entire world seemed to wonder what was happening, while the event of the day running faster was alarming.
Hearing nothing about Arctic in the last three moons raised many questions — and not only in Westeros, but also across Essos, where merchants who had contact with arctican products were frustrated, openly questioning whether Arctic had cut all contact on purpose.
They no longer received anything, and even when the kingdom had closed itself off long ago, a small group still remained in Winterfell, from where news crossed the sea, since it was all just confusion and many took it as entertainment. However, after Winterfell, the most talked-about kingdom in the world simply went silent.
Some even said that Arctic had been destroyed overnight.
At the same time, the rumor spread, told by the Arcticans themselves, that Arctic was at war against the army of the dead, and the days without ships bearing Arctican banners only fed more questions about this.
Could it really be true? Was a war happening in the far North at that very moment? Against… monsters, the dead? Most wondered that, while in Volantis the red priests firmly claimed that Arctic fought against Death, the White Walkers, and that the Long Night had arrived — ancient legends that had returned, and the kingdom beyond the Wall had been prepared for this war, and the people of Volantis, along with the slave bay and even the region of Yi-Ti, believed in it.
The kingdom fighting to save the rest of the world, they said.
A moon earlier, Lord Stark had asked the Night's Watch to send men to the kingdom and check what was happening after they could no longer maintain contact. Many other southern nobles also demanded answers through letters to the king, trying to understand the situation. The king's new Hand wanted to study what he called "the enemy of the king of Westeros" and also pressured the Watch in the king's name.
However, each man sent… never returned. The only information came from the wildlings themselves, all camped much farther south, claiming that the dead took everything in the north and that those who tried to reach Arctic would never arrive at the kingdom or return alive from that journey.
No one could get close to the kingdom, and darkness was a huge problem — only three hours of sunlight per day. Any attempt by the Night's Watch was being frustrated, and Arctic remained isolated.
Among this, there were bolder people, some curious lords of Essos who could not contain their restlessness, and a small fleet of 30 ships was sent to the North, coming from Essos, sailing between the northern kingdom and Skagos and even passing in front of the Night's Watch, who sighted ships from Tyrosh, Myr, and even Lys, which had united to discover what was happening in the north, like the old Triarchy. They hired a large number of mercenaries to advance to the north of the Wall.
The cold had increased since the beginning of the war against the dead, and more stones and sheets of ice appeared in the sea, with the coast collapsing in some parts from time to time.
The men from Essos certainly faced difficulties, never having dealt with a sea full of ice shards while they had to stay close to the coast to find Arctic.
They had been frustrated since the moment they crossed the north of the Wall, and they could not help but worry whenever a ship struck an ice shard, damaging itself more and more.
"Turn! Turn!", shouted a man, breathless, as he tried to avoid the block of ice drifting toward the ship. Other boats behind them shouted orders as well, trying to get out of the way of that gigantic shard.
"By the Red God, why the hell are we here? There is nothing of this kingdom called Arctic! Just ice and more ice!", complained one of the men, while his captain sighed.
"We have orders to check what is happening here in the North. We must move forward," said the captain in a firm tone.
"Happening in the North? There is nothing here! It is just a frozen desert. I don't know where those arcticans came from. We sailed through the entire night yesterday. We might very well have problems now that there are all these ice stones in the way! I see nothing important in this place," grumbled another sailor, clearly frustrated, though he could not help but think — as did everyone there — how a kingdom full of wealth and ships could come from a place like that. There was nothing but snow and dry forests. When they found a small group of wildlings living in Hardhome, remembering that it had been the only time they encountered life in the north and the wildlings had merely stared at them, nothing about it resembled the kingdom they were looking for.
Using the most advanced spyglasses acquired from Arctic's own products, they saw only primitive men living in skin tents. Nothing surprising. What intrigued them was: where did that fleet full of products and food with enormous wealth come from, not to mention the heavily armed soldiers and giants? Nothing there indicated the existence of a great kingdom.
"We don't know, but we only have clues that they came from somewhere around here. So we will continue. Our lords paid us very well to be here, and they will not want to hear that we simply turned our backs and returned," replied the captain. Most agreed — they were being paid far too well to give up.
"I heard that many ships came here too, tried to enter the kingdom… but none returned," commented one of the men with some suspicion.
In fact, many greedy people sought information about the hidden kingdom. Some sent pirates pretending to be shipwrecked, hoping to be taken in, but nothing was ever heard of them again.
Without further delay, they continued working, dodging each block of ice along the way — until the sun simply vanished, making the journey even more difficult, no, making it even more deadly.
With the absence of light, and being in a field full of ice, the ships began to break apart, unable to see what lay much farther ahead.
More and more, the fleet diminished. They had departed with thirty ships; that night, five of them were sunk after colliding with the ice, with men screaming and freezing in the sea within minutes, while their companions tried to save as many as possible — but most died frozen in the sea or even after being pulled out, dying on the deck soaked with water.
When the sun returned, the twenty-five remaining ships already seemed shaken, clearly unmotivated to continue what they had begun to classify as greedy madness, and yet they were still heading north.
More than fifteen of the ships were also damaged to some degree by the ice, with cracks on all sides. Some had suffered so many impacts that their hulls had split open, forcing the men to work incessantly to throw out the icy water. The captain of the small fleet watched in frustration — if it continued like that, none of them would survive.
One of the damaged ships had to be left behind; after all, the water they were removing from the damaged hulls was turning some men's hands blue. One had to be amputated due to the lack of gloves — they had not brought any, and one of the men believed he did not need them, the result becoming tragic when he realized his hand could not be saved.
The following night, more incidents occurred. Another ten ships were destroyed, with hundreds of men dead.
"We must leave, captain! Let's go to the open sea. There is no ice there. I would rather face a storm than stay in the middle of this glacier. There is no sign of the arcticans. We had better leave!", the men complained at that point, clearly unwilling to continue. Most of their companions had already been killed.
The captain only sighed.
"We will continue for one more day. If we find nothing, we will give up," he declared, while all nodded, exhausted.
When night fell, they did not continue the journey in open sea and instead advanced directly to the coast, docking the ships for the next twenty hours and setting up camp. When the sun finally rose, they continued dodging the ice stones — until, much farther north, they found something. An entrance similar to a huge river, extending directly between forests and mountains toward the west, and they could not see its end, but it was straight as if drawn.
"Where do you think this leads?", murmured one of the sailors, although the answer was obvious to all.
"I don't know, but wherever this path ends, it's a good chance of finding the kingdom we're looking for!", said one of the men, and everyone agreed.
"What are we waiting for? Move the ships over there! There are no ice shards there, we'll be safer," ordered the captain. The place seemed clear, though the cold was far more intense than at the beginning of the journey. At least they were well prepared, but even so they could not stop trembling; even with thick fur clothing and torches lit in several points on the ships, the cold seemed to worsen greatly as they traveled along that wide river.
Thus, the last fifteen ships entered the channel that, though not yet confirmed, likely led to the kingdom of Arctic. They continued while there was still a bit of light; after darkness fell, they no longer saw the danger of crashing into ice stones, and the advance continued.
The darkness ahead was total — the only source of light came from the ships themselves. But it did not take long before they saw something else, something that surprised them. On the horizon ahead, a huge light began to appear, farther than their eyes could reach, reflected like an aurora across the sky with a red glow at its center, incredibly beautiful, leaving all of them astonished.
"We've arrived… we're finally heading there!", said one of the men, staring in amazement at the horizon. That light was not natural at all, and it was immense — large enough to possibly illuminate an entire city. This could only mean they were on the right path to Arctic.
"We'll finally see it with our own eyes… But how did they manage to find a place like this with a channel like that?", commented another sailor, analyzing the enormous waterway capable of holding up to three ships side by side.
"Actually, the place isn't natural. Look how everything is perfectly shaped. There are no irregularities. I can even see pins to keep the place from collapsing… steel pins," murmured another man, stunned as he observed the walls around the channel through which they advanced. It was all perfectly constructed. Even surrounded by mountains and elevated terrain, the walls had been carved with impeccable precision.
"You're saying they built this?", murmured another, equally astonished.
"Do not underestimate these people. As surprising as it is for them to live in a place like this, our lords are fascinated by their products — and frustrated for receiving nothing more. That is why we're here. Their city must be even more impressive. Just don't lose your composure. We will still be seen as possible enemies. Even with good intentions, we must show that to them. Understood?", said the captain.
"As fantastic as it is… something isn't right. Where are the animals? Everything is deserted. The cold increases more and more the closer we get. I have a bad feeling," said one of the men, huddled near a torch, trembling.
As much as he admired the beauty of the sky glowing in the distance, his heart screamed for him to leave that place as quickly as possible, reminding him that his life was worth more than any gold he would earn by selling information to his lords in the Free Cities.
"Yeah… this is strange. There isn't a single living animal," commented another. "Even in the ice, we should find footprints or any sign of wildlife. However, there was nothing."
"Our captain told us not to be surprised. So stop it and stay calm. We can leave soon after, but I want to return through the open sea without ice stones!", said a third man. Everyone agreed.
They spent the next hours sailing through the channel. While most slept, some kept watch with lit torches. One of them looked at the sky before sighing and raising his eyes to the entrance of a kind of carved hill.
It was then that he saw a black silhouette, human-shaped, above the still-intact hill.
"Ahhh!", he screamed in panic, alerting the others.
"Hey! What was that?", asked a companion, running to him, seeing him point with a trembling finger upward. More watchers looked — and they saw it.
A silhouette standing at the top, staring at them.
"It must be a wildling…", murmured one of them. But something was wrong. Something shone in that figure. Its eyes were blue — icy blue, dead — and stared at the group with absolute coldness and silence. It did not move, it said nothing, it simply stared, motionless.
A chill ran through all present. That was macabre for the men of Essos.
Then, behind the first figure, others began to appear, now eight of them, filling the edge of the hill.
Small and large silhouettes — adults and children — emerging one by one, unmoving, watching them.
All began staring at the passing ships. The captain was quickly awakened and rushed to the deck, surprised to see two dozen blue eyes shining in the darkness, all fixed on them.
"They're wildlings…", he murmured, feeling the same fear as his men.
"Captain… those are not wildlings. Look at their eyes! Aren't those the eyes they talk about? The dead…", said one of the men, trembling. The silhouettes did nothing — only watched as the ships passed. The captain swallowed hard.
"Keep an eye on them. If they try anything… well, use arrows to take them down," he said at last, despite the evident fear.
"I told you I had a bad feeling!", complained the same mercenary who had said so earlier.
More men woke quickly and joined the discussion. "I believe we should go back, my lord! This place is not safe!", insisted one of them, while the unease grew.
"We have no choice now that we've come this far. We'll deal with any wildling," replied the captain, though hesitant.
"But, my lord… those are the dead we heard about! They can kill us! We must turn back now!"
The silence that followed was heavy.
"We will not discuss this. We will continue!", declared the captain firmly, even though his eyes betrayed his fear.
They continued. When the sun rose, no silhouette remained on the shore. Even so, during the night, all clearly remembered how those heads followed their ships as they passed, without blinking, without moving their bodies — only the blue eyes fixed on them. Many could not sleep. Others had nightmares, desperate to return.
In the next night, when the sun set, another group of black silhouettes appeared at the edge of the channel, watching them as they approached the light in the sky on the horizon ahead of them. The silhouettes stood still, staring at them once again.
At dawn, another group appeared on top of a hill.
The problem was that these new silhouettes were far more terrifying: they were missing arms or pieces of their bodies, some did not even have half a head, even though only their dark shapes with blue eyes could be seen. As soon as everyone saw them, even the captain lost his composure.
"Let's go!", he said, finally giving in.
But as he shouted the order, more and more silhouettes appeared. An entire crowd, including those they had seen the night before, emerged before them. All the men paled instantly.
"Turn around! Turn around now!", shouted the captain, waking those who still slept.
It was then that, for the first time, those blue-eyed things began to move. One by one, they started jumping into the water, as if they felt no cold, no pain, no fear, while the men fell into despair seeing each one of those things dropping into the water right in front of them.
The ship tried to turn, but it was almost impossible — the channel had not been made for that kind of maneuver, only to move forward. Worse still, there were several ships coming right behind.
The foreigners panicked as the dead simply continued falling into the water, one after another. Soon, hands began to emerge beside the hulls, climbing onto the ships.
The screams of terror took over the fleet, and the men tried to prepare themselves as, for the first time, they saw up close what the undead creatures they had heard so much about actually looked like. This terrified them even more, making any reaction difficult.
Soon the dead were already among them. The mercenaries of Essos were horrified, seeing the most dreadful things of their lives and doing everything they could to stop them — knives, spears, arrows — but nothing worked. Only fire, used by some desperate men, could bring them down, burning them quickly. But the flames also began spreading across the ships.
No ship was spared, and moments later, only the sound of fire filled the air.
All the living men there were killed, while 7 of the 15 ships were consumed by fires that devoured everyone on board. In the end, all those who had come from Essos were dead — and the captain, who lay fallen on the deck with his chest pierced, opened newly blue eyes and stood up. His men also began to rise, transformed.
The dead who had invaded remained there, motionless, not reacting to the new companions. But those who had once been alive — now dead and risen — simply lined up with the crowd that had killed them before, left the ship drifting alone, moving through the channel, and advanced toward the light on the horizon.
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