I

The Seal of Fire

Here in this shrine

Do I awaken from slumber

From here do I arisen

Out of the ashes and embers

So that I might remember

Hereafter I am unshackled

Unbound from life and death

That I may conquer the unconquered

Bend Light and Dark

Life and Death

Ice and Fire

That I may tame Soul and Matter

Time and Space

Man and Dragon

And when all have listened

And all that shall see

They will remember

The Accursed

- The Last Pygmy Lord

Jon Snow

The cold winds breezed across his face; it was the only sound he could hear in the Godswood.

Jon Snow comes here often to center himself from his daily life. Here, in the presence of the Old Gods, they only request a silent prayer and nothing more. The scenery was beautiful, where the dark red leaves of the Weirwood tree would as though make the area here feel like it was fall come again. The blazing sunlight illuminated the scenery of the pond that only enhances the beauty of this place. It was a cold, dark, and gentle place.

He laid back and looked at his reflection from the pond. Looking at himself made Jon served to remember how others reminded and saw him in the likeness of his father's appearance. They both shared the dark hair, and grey eyes, but he did not bear his family name. Tainted at birth, he was out of wedlock; nonetheless, he did have a place here with his father and siblings. However, a bastard didn't mean being having the same great privileges as that of other children of nobility.

The sound footsteps were approaching him; a familiar voice called out his name. "Jon," his brother Robb said, "I had Rodrick and Theon meet with us in the courtyard, you ready?"

"Yes of course," Jon replied. Stretching as he stands up, having spent his early morning sitting here. A good sword fight would help stretch out his muscles. He took one last look back at the Weirwood tree before leaving.

It faces strangely was tearing out the blood-like sap from its eyes.

As both walked together and walked throughout the castle, they would come across their household members. They always greeted with a nod in respect when coming across a Stark. Robb, as expected the heir of Winterfell, repaid in kind or always express his gratitude for their service. It was something Jon had always admired and envied about his brother. He was the more talkative of the two, with a charisma that could lead men and capture everyone's attention. He, in contrast, would remain silent and humble. Never stepping out of place to take his brother's spotlight.

The sunlight shined in his eyes as they made their out in the courtyard. There was a moment when he finally had to squint his eyes from the sight of the sun, blinding him. When his eyes widen after adjustment, Jon could finally see the courtyard. He saw Hullen was with his father tending to the horses, Mikken heating the fires of the forge, the guards patrolling the watchtowers and gates.

Rodrik and Theon were right by the training section, awaiting them. Theon had that familiar cocky looking face, probably in the mood to get back at Jon from their previous dual. Rodrik, their mentor, in contrast, had a warm greeting smile.

"Ready Jon Snow?" Theon asked with a bit of spite in his last name to annoy him. "I'm itching to get my sword arm ready and beat you this time."

Jon frowned, "Gladly. I'm in need of a good dummy to beat down senselessly." He spoke in a tone of confidence, but also an edge to his voice. They didn't have the best relation as Robb did with him as friends.

"All right now," Rodrik interrupted, "your dueling, not gutting each other's throats. Grab your blunt swords and begin the match."

Jon and Theon both nodded and grabbed their practice swords. With respect, they moved a few steps away from each other and waited out for the first to make their move.

He decided to take the aggressive approach when Rodrik immediately yell to begin the match. He launches a series of blows against Theon, to try to draw him out into attacking him so he can beat him down to the ground when he leaves an opening. Theon was on the defense, however, blocking his attacks but also wasn't making any attempts to swing his blade.

After the next strike several after, Theon then finally brought his sword to clash against Jon's and beginning to push him back. He then made a swing under Jon's rib cage, but he quickly blocks it. The fight was a competition to make a quick strike when one was about to swing his sword.

Theon then thrust his sword towards Jon, and he made a quick turn to dodge it. In an instant, Jon threw a punch at Theon and fell to the ground.

He quickly placed the tilt his sword in front of his face.

"Yield," Jon smirked victoriously.

Theon grumbled but made a nod at his defeat. "Yield, now move so I can get up."

Jon didn't bother to lend in a helping hand. Neither one usually asks to help the other up after their dual. Had he not been Robb's best friend, he had probably beaten him much sooner for the many rude jokes that he made fun of him.

It all started when he learned about his shyness of women, so he usually brings up the subject of his accomplishments of whom how many he flirted, or have laid down in bed. He would talk about his favorite, Ros, from the brothel that was outside of Winterfell or indeed any woman for that matter. He found it strange that Jon wouldn't take the time for himself to enjoy the pleasures of a woman.

I swore that I would never twice damned another child to a harsh life.

As Theon left the ring, Rodrik called out to Jon "Well done. Robb, you're up next. Get yourself ready."

Robb nodded. As he made his way into the ring, Jon made a quick stop to duck his head into a barrel of water, to refresh himself for his next match. Robb was a much bigger challenge and only one his age that can compete with him in a fight.

He and Robb were different in ways of how they fight. Jon was more quick and agile then Robb, but he didn't posses Robb's strength, at how he places his sword swings in his attack. When backed into a corner Robb would act like the wolf and have a better advantage.

"Begin!" Rodrik yelled, already, Robb jumped to make his first move.

Jon quick went on the defense and blocked his attack. For a blunt blade, Robb was quickly attacking with precision. He was going forth with every strike to push he back until Robb was tried and fall.

With sudden quick thinking, Jon went on to hit Robb's sword as he was about to strike. He then twisted and rolled off to the side to attack him from the rear. It was Robb's turn to be on the defense when Jon began attacking.

Their swords both clash, pressed against one another until it reaches to the shoulder of their swords.

Then, however, Robb's sword swooped off from hands after the short out clash. Leaving them empty-handed, Jon went for the grab and threw Robb down. His arm pressed against Robb's throat, leaving him defenseless.

"I Yield Jon!" Robb yelled with laughter.

Jon accepted it with a smirk then gave him a helping hand back up.

Hours passed after Rodrick gave him congrats, and they started moving on to train in using different weapons from a mace, with a shield, a spear, and back again with swords. Sometimes Jon would win in his fights with Robb, but the horse lancing was Robb's mastery, and he couldn't beat at him in that. When it came to archery, however, Theon would have the upper hand against both of them.

Jon and Theon, stood side by side. Their bows lifted towards their mark. Patiently waiting to for the right time to shoot. "Aye, you just gotta aim it in the right place Snow," Theon said, his eyes remained in sight of his target. "Don't get all bitter if you lose; you know that I'm good."

Jon eyes squinted, "I'd focus on shooting Greyjoy."

Theon huffed out loudly as he loses his arrow, while Jon released his at the same time. In the precise moment, Theon made his mark at the center.

Jon, on the other hand, was so lucky. "Damn, did it too soon." He frowned at his target.

"Getting frustrated?" Theon asked with a sly smirk. He gave him a glared at for questioning. "No need to get mad Jon. I know you don't want anyone thinking your a sore-loser, but you do get gloomy when others are thinking about you."

Jon shook his head. He wouldn't let anyone think even less of him of his capabilities with a sword or bow. For all his life, he shared the same dreams that any boy wished. Becoming a fearsome warrior, that fought for dignity and honor. Sometimes he would even dream of being a conqueror.

Theon cut him out of his concentration, "We should go out on a hunt for a couple of days, in the Wolfswood. Master Luwin said that the entire week would have the warmest days in the North before the coming winter."

Jon raised his eyebrows at his suggestion. He doesn't ask me to do anything with him. "Since when have you wanted to invite me to your hunts?"

"I'm in a good mood today," He replied, "I asked Robb to come. Go camping and hunt for some boars and wolves. I could use another hand to use a spear." Theon snorted, "Besides, Robb would want you to come anyway."

Before he could reply, a ruckus came from behind. The sounds shifted from the rack where the weapons were stacked.

Jon's felt the sensation of warmth and joy rather than, concern from the incoming sound. There was only one person he knew that would be hiding behind them.

"You can come out," Jon yelled out for his sister Arya. She likes to hide her presence until she was called out.

When Arya appeared, she had on her dress with mud staining it. He could tell she felt very uncomfortable with what she was wearing. Usually, she would wear something dirty and boy clothes. However, the colors of her dress reflected her features. Her eyes, for the most part, were her most prominent feature. Grey-steel, yet with an odd element of ice like color around the iris.

She often came here to hide away from her lesson; a desire to join in her brother's adventures and daily lives. Rather than share in her sister's hobbies of fantasies and gossip like a young little lady. He scoffed at the idea of that; she's nothing like her older sister Sansa.

He gave a smile to his sister. "Hiding again from Septa Mordant?"

"I can't stand her!" She complained, "I've been knitting and wasn't getting it right. It frustrating!"

He chuckled, she would have done better at pinching with a dagger at a dummy, then knitting a piece of cloth. "Here," he passed his bow to her, "You have fun with that while I go talk with father." Jon turned to Theon, "Does Lord Stark know about your hunting trip?"

"Nah, I haven't spoken about it with him yet."

Arya's eyes peaked with excitement, "Take me with you, ask our father if I can come along." She pleaded.

"Doubt it, my lady," Theon said, "This is a hunt they will going for days in the wilderness."

"I can take care of myself!" She yelled.

Jon understood her plight. He would try as he might, even though he knew What the answer to the request would be. "I'll talk with father, sister. Don't worry about what anyone else says."

"Thank you, brother. He always listens to you..." There was now a glimpse of hope in her eyes.

He roughly rubbed her hair as she with laughter fought back. He made his way to the court hall's door; he looked back to see her practicing. Examining her posture and stance, as she made a dead shoot center. Her progress had quickly improved.

She was the closest out of all his siblings, and the most he shared in common. She was headstrong and tomboyish, none care in the world if she was going to get dirt on her if it meant she could be the warrior queen with a sword. They would play their roles, and he would pretend to be Aemon Dragonknight fighting against Arya as Nymeria, the Queen of the Rhoynear.

"I'm the strongest, bend the knee Dragonknight!" She would shout.

However, one time, when they played their routine little sword fight, Lady Stark caught them. Since then, they have never done that again. Lady Catelyn would at a distance watching over them when Arya was free from her lessons. Her face seeing them together sword playing was probably the most he saw lady Catelyn fumed, with her face twisting ugly with anger in his entire life. It caused Jon to wonder if she believed that he would hurt his sister.

He never held it against her for feeling threatens of his presence. He knew it was because of the history of bastards of committing betrayals, even against their blood kin. Still, that wasn't to say that he didn't feel pain and his hatred towards her too. But, he never dared to speak back to her. For the best, he supposed that he should be glad that now, she would only give stares, and a few words.

Jon put his mind to the present as he went inside the courtroom where his father, Eddard Stark was sitting. He was reading parchments of some kind. They didn't appear to be of any importance as he quickly shoved them aside when he felt his son's presence.

"Jon," he spoke, with a softness in his voice. "What is it?"

"Father," He started professionally, "Theon spoke about going out on a hunt together for a couple of days with Robb and me." His father didn't reply, knowing that he had more to finish saying. "Aya also express the desire to join." He caught his throat feeling uncomfortable after saying that last sentence.

He sighed. Despite being lax at times with his sister, Ned would have her return to her lessons. "She left her lesson again?" It was more as a statement then questioning. Jon could only reply with an apologetic smile.

Ned turned away and stood to look out the window. His hands placed behind his back. "I'll talk with her. You may go out with no more than five. Take with you two of my men for this hunt."

That went smoother than expected. "Thank you, father," giving a low bow. He looked back up to see his father still looking out without any apparent sign he is freely dismissed.

"Father?" he asked

It was the late afternoon and the sun setting down. Light pour onto Ned's face where he could see him. He had a somber look. It was unusual; he otherwise would have a usual stern expression when his father was giving a lecture, or when he was committing a sentence and drawing Ice. Here, it was a reflection of remembering a painful memory in his life.

"Your sister is just like your aunt," Ned said. "In appearance and personality. Never taking in an interest in being a proper lady, only wishing to ride her horse out in the wilderness" He placed his hand on the table, his face melancholic. "I know I can't keep her from stopping what she wants to do. There will come a day, where she will choose to follow her own heart and not out of obligation." He looked back at Jon, returning a sad smile.

Jon's eyes widen at what he said. His father spoke little about his aunt Lyanna. He only knew that she was told to be beautiful and that long ago, was kidnapped by Rhaegar Targaryen. To learn that Lyanna though was similar to Arya was surprising.

It brought his mind back to Arya and the times where she would come to him when she was upset. Sansa and her lady friends would sometimes talk behind her back. One of them one-time horseface and that became a nickname for her. It would infuriate him to no end when he first heard that. He saw none of that and thought she was pretty.

"Don't listen to them, Arya. You're unique, never feel dissuaded." He said to her way back and hugged her with all his strength.

"Thank you," She whispered in his ear as she pressed her face to his shoulder.

If Arya were indeed like Lyanna and would one day too, grow like to match her beauty, then he would pray for that.

"By you leave father," Jon stated. He didn't wait for a reply back to his father, wanting to return to his chambers.

The evening arrived. Jon made his way back, with the sound of cold breezes echoing in the halls. His footsteps were making soft thumb noises when reaching his room. Opening his door, he was meet with a nearly empty dark room. There was no warmth in here, with only ash littering the floor from the fireplace.

Jon looked down to scoop up ash in his hand. Rubbing it against his two fingers, regarding this little speck of dust that had once been fuel for a fire.

He then falls to his bed, allowed the dark to take him in his sleep.

A fog clouded everything in sight. He couldn't make sense of any direction, nor of any destination in place. The grey crag-ground beneath him desolated of life and barrenness.

He felt senseless, empty and without purpose. Suddenly he was walking what seems to be a gloomy limbo.

Then things began to appear out from the great fog. Magnificent Trees; mighty and robust than any he has ever seen. He could not see the end to where their roots and trunks reached. It was as though they never did stop growing.

When he looked beneath the high trees, he saw gigantic, winged beasts in deep slumber. They all had scales that were stone-like, with many different features, sometimes having more than two wings. Their bodies weren't that of a beast, but more humanoid.

He could not marvel at them, he sensed their annoyance at his presence and chose to continue his endless walk. As he walked, he came across a cave under of those magnificent trees again. Whispering sounds like choir music echoed from the cave calling out to him.

He entered and fell in what felt like the heart of the world. There was something inside here, with the realization that he was being drawn here.

Everything around him changed. Fire and the Darkness appeared, the first two to formed together from this discrepancy of a world.

The preeminent flame was raging out like a storm, with its darkness as its shadow. As the superannuated fire burned brighter, so did its shadows grew ever darker than ever.

He wanted to peer into the core of the flame. There was something inside it; something that made it radiant like no other burning fire has ever done so. To describe the flame as beautiful only diminishes its power.

When he finally reached to the flame, he did not feel any burning sensation. He was beginning to understand what it means to have a mind, feelings, and thoughts. It fueled him with more than mere life, more then what he was beginning to comprehend. For what else could a great firestorm give him that was extravagantly substantial?

He walked closer again and closer again and so forth.

He finally understood now what this was...

It was no ordinary flame, for it burned within the essence of all ideas. These were the very things that have conceptualized the world. He was standing at the totality of everything.

At that moment, he never felt happier in his life.

He tried to take this imperishable flame for himself but was forced back when trying to reach the fire. All around him came beings from the dark shadows. They too clutch for this primal flame and were granted fire.

They were each given a share of the flame's carried ideas. The natural essences' gave them a sense of identity and purpose. They shaped, they transformed, and finally, they are...

One was the first to die, but granted death itself.

One was bequeathed with life, and beget daughters of her own.

And one was given light, and he cast the Sun upon the world that enkindles all concepts.

All the shards of the flame were passed down; each one received a gift. The fire still burned brilliantly as it did, but it had nothing left to give.

He didn't receive a gift of his own. Nothing was granted to him. Why would was he denied?

Why was I denied...

What soon to be a moment of despair, the darkness cast itself on the fire, coiling around itself and cast a tiny flame unto him.

Perhaps he was indeed given the best for last.

He held this tiny flame so dear to his life that he couldn't bear to lose. This flame was different from the rest. It contained within a power of its own so unlike the rest.

It burned so brightly...

Its core was so dark...

Then the war came.

The bearers of the flame sought dominion over the world against the dragons of the earth. Spears of sunlight hurled against the dragons, destroying their immortality. Untamed fires burn their homes that were rooted below and above the sky, and miasma and rot brought ruin upon them all.

When the war was finally over, a kingdom was forged at the top of the world, almost touching the sun. The cities far below were expanding across the mass land and far out. Other kingdoms were then made in imitation of first but never reached far out to meet with the first in the starry heavens.

Then peace changed into conflict. The light was fading in and out. Darkness began to leech and bleeding itself. As Light attempted to snuff out its defiance, Darkness only grow stronger. They coiled into an endless spiral without end and couldn't be stopped.

The two worlds were now forever in conflict with each other.

The bearers of the flame were the first to learn the meaning of fear. As the Darkness was growing, so to did their precious light began dying.

And at the center of it all, he was there. Armored head to toe in terror in brilliant darkness. Was marked with a ring of fire etch upon his soul. One hand wielded a burning red sword, stabbing a serpent. His other hand, burned and cindered, was crushing another.

He could not look upon at what he has become. For it too terrifying; as it was like staring into the heart of nothingness itself. His eyes were black as a void, his skin was that of a flayed man, and he could feel of dark emotions that waved within his presence.

Calamity fell upon the world.

Light and Darkness are clashing.

And the dream was fading...

Robb Stark

The morning sun was rising and touch his face. His eyes are wide awake.

Robb looked out from the window to take in sight of the view before him. It was early dawn, but the night of the heavenly stars was still visible. The glittering of stars coloring the sky, with the red wanderer as the brightest out the tiniest stars.

Turning away, Robb changed into sturdy leather for Theon's impending hunt. It was his friend's idea to go out hunting for a couple of days, but he also wanted his brother to join with them in this. Theon wouldn't have mentioned it to Jon if unless he asked. Master Luwin told that it was a perfect opportunity for this time in the summer, and he wanted time away from Winterfell. He wasn't going to leave him out of this.

As he went down the stairs to the hallway table, he saw Hallis Mollen and Alyn sitting there. Two men that Robb has chosen to accompany them on their journey. His father wouldn't let them the of three go off without some guardsmen to attend them, but It was probably more to quelled any worries that his mother would have in his departure.

The ones he picked out were probably the most oddballs of all his household. Hallis was tenacious in his statements to point things out, even when they're already apparent to everyone else. Haillis was stalwart in his duty. Alyn while polite, was a bit of an oddball to some here in Winterfell. He had a lot in common with his sister Sansa, when it came to dreams of knighthood and heroics.

"Milord," Alyn spoke, sitting down with a plate of a piece of bread and some water. "Your meal will arrive shortly."

"Thank you, Alyn," Robb smiled but had his looking across the hall. It appears his friend and brother were not yet here. "Have Theon and Jon arrive before me?"

"Theon Greyjoy was here milord," Alyn replied. "But he took off into the kitchens to see Marya." He smirked.

Robb chuckled at that. Theon had taken a liking to Marya when first served him one time. He tried to allure her with his charms. She rejected him outright, finding him to be too dull for talking too much. He hadn't gotten his chance with her yet and wanted to prove himself.

"And my brother?"

Alyn shrugged. "Haven't seen him, my lord. I went to go check if he was in his room, but he wasn't there, nor was the outside of the stables."

That's surprising, and it was quite unusual for Jon to be hiding out in an upcoming event. He was the one to make sure he had a head start, in preparation for everyone else. Always the dutiful of the two older brothers.

As Robb went to sit down, a servant girl arrives with a plate of steak and eggs ready. He could smell the rare meat coming off and felt his stomach beginning to rumble.

Theon then arrived shortly after. He went to greet him with their the usual forearm handshake. The three of them listened to Theon's bragging; about how he at least manage to get a perk on the cheek from Marya. For him, it was a step toward obtaining her affections.

"Have you seen Jon?" Robb asked. He would have thought that he arrive soon, but there no one else coming down from the hall or the door.

"Yeah I saw Jon," Theon replied, with a bit of annoyance in his voice. "When I went to talk to him, he was run off to going outside." He took a sip of his water. "Didn't bother to say where he was heading."

Robb nodded. They waited for a little longer to see if he'll arrive. When it appeared Jon wasn't coming anytime soon, they left for their stable.

Hullen was there tending to the horses, brushing the dirt off of one. The horses' eyes told Robb of that he was enjoying himself. When finished, Hullen greeted them with a low hum and then bow to Robb in his presence.

"They're all set now Hullen?" Alan asked.

Hullen turned to them, "Yes indeed they are. I'm sure they'll have a good time out. They have been stuck in here for quite a while and could use the walk out in the fields."

Once finished, they had their saddles placed on their horses, along with small bags that carried their food and tents.

"You have my thanks, Hullen," Robb said. "Did my brother Jon, pass by here?"

"Last I saw him he was talking with Mikken about something. He then left off, and I hadn't seen him since."

"Did you find out from Mikken what he wanted?"

He shook his head, "No my lord, Mikken only said that Jon asked for a request and left it at that."

"Thank you." Robb then turns to his horse and climbed on him. He, along with the rest of his company rode to the gate, waiting for Jon to arrive. Robb looked at his men. They were inspecting their weapons, ready with sword and spear in check. Theon as always had his bow with him and a waterskin filled with wine for the trip.

Jon eventually arrived. He was wearing a black cloak that was thin rather than made of wolf pelt skin like they have all worn. He wore his hood that concealed his face, but Robb could see the eyes had dark underlines.

He didn't sleep well, but he could skip out breakfast to run off to find a blacksmith? "You all right brother?" He asked. "Would you like me to hold the reins while you sleep?"

His half-brother looked up, smiling yet looked ready to fall asleep. "It's fine; I only had a rough sleep; bad dream last night."

"What now," Theon chuckled "Old Nan's stories hunting your dreams now?"

Jon let out a deep breath. "Not now Theon, let's get a move on." He quickly rode off from the rest.

They immediately catch up to Jon as they rode across the hillsides. The day was indeed the hottest it has ever been. Usually, the air was cold enough, that can leave a southerner freezing off from a pure breeze. For a Northerner, that nothing. This week will probably be warmest for anyone living out here would receive.

Along the ride, Haillis began pointing out things that were visible. He would talk of the natural sights, from the shape of the clouds to the type of birds flying passed them. It kept things from being quiet on the way to the Wolfwoods, also gave Robb time to further plan their trip.

They planned to make a stop at Crofters' village before heading out into Wolfswood. It wasn't too far from Winterfell and had a dirt road to help them travel the forest. If they happen to go out too far, they can take the broad highway to Deepwood Motto.

The men made a stop when the village was in full view, miles away from them. They could see the town had the two lakes between them. The Old Gods were strongly active here, just right in the middle of the lakes. It was said their faces blessed the sap coming from their mouths aside from their eyes. Most didn't often come here near them to offer a prayer, for fear of inciting their wrath.

Up ahead of them, there was a robed figure walking in their direction. The stranger wore all red, with golden lines across the robes, with black gloves, each finger wearing fashioned rings. The hood didn't leave much in the way to cover man's face. Instead, it had straps that concealed his eyes and partially his face.

"Hmm?" The stranger seemed to have recognized now he was going to walk right at them. "I didn't know that I could easily attract so much attention here." His accent wasn't Westeros, perhaps Essosi?

His appearance seemed to say otherwise. The robes fashioned like that of a southern lord, but each of the rings had symbols of dragons that would look to appear from eastern lands. The man's skin was almost pale, with a sickling look and an unbearable look of disgust he was displaying.

"I do hope you won't waste my time with pointless questions regarding my appearance. Or perhaps you are more civilized than these barbarians that I had the pleasure of encountering."

"Watch your tone," Alyn spoke defensively. "You speak in front of the heir of Winterfell. The son of the lord who rules these lands."

"Oh am I?" he sneered. He looks at each of their faces, with an arrogant smile. Not seeming to care about Alyn's statement, despite the weight it held. "I didn't know that his lord's peasants are allowed to live in the comfort of dirt, and hug trees for salvation."

"Why You-"

"Enough," Robb cut Alyn off. "You, whatever business you have here, you best be on your way." He finished with a firm commanding tone in his voice. Robb had never met someone so loathsome to outright insult his people in his presence.

The robed man was ignoring them, mumbling to himself, a language he couldn't make sense off if it were a language at all. Jon and Theon were glaring at him. The former had his hand gripping his sword, ready to draw out and cut him down right there and now.

The robed man turned to smile back at them.

"Excuse me for my attitude. I must take my leave."

The man turned his head to Jon and gave him a nod as a final farewell. "A word of advice to you heir of Winterfell." He looked directly back at Robb, "A lord cannot go without his throne. Remember that. Kukukuku." He then walked past them chuckling, until the sight of red was gone.

Theon boiled with rage, "Robb, he insulted you! You're just going to let him walk away?"

Robb shook, "There's no need to go after him. He's not a Northmen and doesn't understand our ways. He remains ignorant, let him. Were he to enjoy ourselves, not to worry about the petty insults from a fool."

Theon look like he wanted to protest, but stopped what he was about to say. If his friend decided it wouldn't affect his honor, then he would allow this to slip past them.

As they reached going around the lake, they spoke with the watchtower men and were granted passage in. The villagers were out in the fields working and paid no heed to them as soon as they recognized their color. The chieftain, offer them drinks for their time staying in the village and hearing his stories.

"Aye," he said, speaking to Alyn. "My lads had been out in Wolfwoods lately. They haven't had any luck finding any boars or any dear either." His full voice caught all their attention. "When they came back, they mention how the forest was completely dead silent. The very notion of the rivers have seemed to stop, and almost as though they were in the presence of something haunting them! Ha, getting scared of their shadows I say! My boys almost shit themselves."

"And this has been going for days?" Jon asked.

"Supposedly," The Chieftain replied. "The village has been running low lately on hunted meat. We've managed to not starve as of yet."

His eyes frowned and stayed silent before speaking again. "Did you spoke to a cloaked man passing here, in red robes?"

"Yes, I have," The Chieftain eyes narrowed. "Nastiest fooker I've ever meet. When anyone came to speak with him, he would curse them off with some jabbers insults, or merely mock us. I'm surprised that my men hadn't thrown him out for some of the remarks he made about our clothes...we let him stay for a brief time, and he left without saying a word."

Robb and Jon both shared the same look. It looked as though the strange man bewildered the villages' folk here. There was no denying that the robed man had a bad mouth on him as well.

"My lord..." Alys with uncertainty in his voice, "Do you wish to return to Winterfell?"

"Go back?" Theon yelled, "You're going to let some foreigner scare you into going out hunting?"

"You have seen the way the people acted here. They simply let him go around gods know what, and possibly pass a spell on them!" Hallis replied to Theon.

"We've talked to him, and nothing has changed about us. Stop with this nonsense."

The argument eventually stops, and Robb decided they would continue with their trip. They made their farewells with the chieftain and rode off into the forest on the pathway made leading to Deepwood Motto.

The trees shadowed the corners of the forests. There was indeed no sound made other than own as they continue riding their way through. They traveled on for hours on end in the woods and was about to turn into nightfall.

They had not found a single target in sight.

"What in gods name is going on here?" Hallis spoke, "There aren't any animals here!"

"I knew we should have turned back to Winterfell. This place is cursed; I tell you."

"We came all this way here; it's too late to turn back now."

"Brother," Jon turn Robb's attention to him. "We haven't found any to hunt yet and were pretty low on food. If we turn back now, we can make it to Crofters' village before it gets too late."

Before he could reply, a crack sounds were echoing, the sounding touching across the entire woods, setting the horses into a panic.

"Woah Steady boy!"

Everything was starting to feel uneasy. All around, Robb saw and felt as though the trees were looking down at him. The branches were reaching out like bloodied hands. Seeking to take them as their shadows were blocking out the remaining light of the Sun.

A sense of unbolding had taking over him, the crackling returned and came at a close distance. He, Jon and the rest were drawn out their swords, while Theon had bow and arrow set and drawn.

"Come out now whomever!" Robb demanded.

The sound crack came back from by the bush. It jumps out quickly; small and furry.

T'was, only a rabbit.

'I'm losing my nerves over nothing.'

"Ha," Theon laugh and lose his arrow on the rabbit. It shot into its neck and began struggling as blood was bleed out quickly.

Despite the animal dying quick. He saw in its eyes the uneasiness of what was happening. It must have known that something was wrong and fighting for its life. For a moment, Robb was feeling sadness towards this little young creature. Who would never again be able to hop as it used to, despite his own need of hunger and survival?

'When have I started to focus on staring deep into the eyes?'

"We should begin setting up a fire." Jon suggested, "The night is turning, and it'll be cold out."

"Agreed brother. Men," Robb spoke loudly, grabbing everyone attention. "we'll be setting camp down here."

"Hey Alyn, do you think the blue star is an Ice Dragon?"

"How should I know? What would a dragon be doing up in the heavens?"

"Old Nan used to say how the Dragons high above the north, would come falling and the become as hot as the sun. That they would engulf the earth and turn the realm into ash."

Robb never heard that tale before, "Old Nan said this story to you?"

"Yes my lord," Hallis nodded "Then she talked about how there are large giant crows, that clutch man and feasted on them dead or alive."

"That isn't the only story Old Nan shared," Jon replied, taking a sip from the waterskin. "Some of the folk would tell the same story, but a different version. The crow story that you mention once applied to men born with feathered winged-arms and a birds head."

"The Old Hag always spouts all source of nonsense. It's best not to take them all literal." Theon commented. As he was eating a piece of the rabbit, he killed.

A sly smile crossed Jon's face, "Didn't you said that you believed in merlings mated with the Ironborn, Theon?"

"There is proof of their existence though! My father's seat; the Seastone chair, was made out an oily black stone that exists nowhere else in Westeros, aside from something similar that was said to be in Oldtown."

"Whatever you say Greyjoy."

The young men continued sharing the tales of old around the bonfire, from the famous heroes of old to the stories of the dark creatures of the North and Far East. As the coldness crept behind their shoulders, they sat closer to the warmth of the bonfire.

Eventually, their storytelling ended, as soon as Alyn and Hallis went off to sleep. Jon, Theon, and Robb were the only ones left circling the heat.

"I've decided that I want to join the Nights Watch..."

Taking up Maester Luwin's advice I see. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

Jon seemed a bit offended. "Of course Robb. How could I not? I won't inherit Winterfell. I won't even have something directly gifted to me alone from my family. At least joining an Order will grant me honor, instead of looking down at me for my sure name."

Theon chuckled at that, "You can't be serious. You'd rather freeze your cock off guarding against a bunch of Wildings? You can easily make a name for yourself a hired sword in Essos, hell even down south. You want the Wall instead?"

Jon's face scowled, "There is honor in guarding the realms of men. I won't give myself less as a hired sword or ride away from my home. You know that better as does anyone else."

Theon scoffed at that, "Do whatever pleases you snow. If you want to be an innocent maid and live as a standing statue in a frozen wasteland, go right ahead." He finished his meal and stood up. "I'm heading off to sleep now." He walked off it now leaving only the two of them.

Robb looked at Jon; seeing him staring into the bonfire as with the world disclosed around him. His face was calm, but he could tell he was feeling anxious and thinking about his parents.

He understood why Jon wanted to leave. He felt to be burdening father, despite all that he's done for him and had the full distress of his mother's silent wroth. Robb always felt a bit of resentment that his mother would distrust Jon and dislike him so. Why? Did she think that he was a real threat to him and their siblings?

"You don't have to join the Night's Watch to prove anything brother..." He tried to provide some comfort to Jon, "Father loves you. Everyone does...Growing up as a part of our family has more than proven your place here with us. Everyone recognizes you as a Stark."

"The son of a Stark, brother, but not a Stark." Jon corrected.

"Is there truly a difference?" He questioned, to see if he can disprove it.

Jon didn't reply and returned his head to look at the fire again. His face impassive, but Robb can see his hand twitch a bit as if he wanted to reach out into the flame.

"You know Arya would miss you," Robb added.

Jon eyes saddened, "Yes she will, but she'll understand..."

Arya was dear to Jon, as they were both similar in standing out with the rest of their family. She would always back him up whenever he was in trouble. If she were feeling alone and troubled, Jon would in return be there for her when she felt in need of help.

"When the lone wolf dies, the pack will survive." He quoted. "Remember those words? Were are family, we stick together."

"But wouldn't I fit the lone wolf, Robb? I wasn't necessarily planned for as a member of the pack. The role would fit me well."

"The Lone Wolf dies alone, Jon. Do you want that as your fate?"

Jon didn't answer. He was unable to come up with something conclusive, for no one wants to die alone. Not even those who were born alone in this world.

Robb decided to change the subject. "So what were you were doing speaking with Mikken?"

"What how did- oh, was it Theon that told you?" He places his clenched hand on his cheek. "I was asking for a request for him to forge a small rapier for me."

"A rapier?" Robb was puzzled. "What could you possibly need a rapier? You use a longsword."

Jon thought for a moment, "It was a gift for Arya. I wanted to give her something, fit for her size to practice with until she could later use a much bigger weapon."

"You know that father wouldn't allow her to pick up a sword, she would have to keep it secret," Robb then added, "You plan on going off to the Nights Watch. You won't be there to teach her."

"I know," Jon replied. "I was thinking...maybe you could teach her while I'm gone."

"I don't know how much I can help her on using a rapier, Jon." Robb chuckled. "I'd need to hire a Braavosi swordmaster to get her started, gods, know I can't afford that."

"Perhaps," Jon whispered. "But you'll do that for me won't you, while I'm gone?" Jon looked back at the fire again. Looking obsessively at it, as though to pull his thoughts away.

"Why do you insisted that you be with us any longer?"

"It's just a gut feeling that's all." Jon's eyes looked at Robbs. "I...I have a been having a bad feeling lately. When I went to sleep, found myself living in a nightmare that I couldn't awaken. It felt terrible Robb. I feel as though that it would be best that I no longer stay at Winterfell any longer."

Robb grabbed his shoulder, "Jon," He emphasized his name, "Don't feel dismayed as though you can't be with us." He turned his head away. "You don't need an outcast. Once our father has passed, and I become Lord of Winterfell...I Intended to see you legitimized as a true born son of Eddard Stark. Should it please you."

Jon's eyes widened. His mouth opens but couldn't speak. He felt that he needed to insist that he doesn't do something like that. That it wouldn't make much difference to his status as a child born out of wedlock, yet, it was all that he could ever want.

Robb could see that happiness that it brought him when he said those words. If it could bring some comfort, even at the cost of his mother feeling distraught, it would only be temporary. He wanted his brother to have a place in peoples hearts, and recognize his heritage.

Jon then stood up, letting out a deep breath he didn't realize, was holding back. "Thank you, brother." He whispered but was loud enough to hear.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "I'm getting tired, and I need to sleep. Next morning we'll race for the biggest target?" He returned to his cheer self and boastful competitiveness.

Robb returns with a smirk challenge of his own. "Aye, we'll see who's the better hunter."

They bid each goodnight in a hug. As soon as he lost sight of Jon leaving into his tent, Robb watched the dimmed fire burning out its last fuel, and he snuffed it out with his foot.

The dream returned, it felt familiar this time.

Everything he's seeing was different. Time was unfolding, as Kingdoms were flashing before his eyes. All of the rising and falling, afflicted by the same conflict that engulfs the previous world.

The Lords were to inherit the past and preserve the legacy of great ages. Each had a great soul of power that allowed them to shape the land and built their kingdoms. They all fought to protect what they have created for themselves.

They all failed, and all were sacrificed.

One Kingdom beneath the earth fell from war. It's god roused, and it's wrath destroyed all.

One was destroyed at the hands of its own King, fueled by anger and greed. His iron kingdom burned and melted, leaving nothing behind.

One consumed by Chaos, It front defense, was also it's last. It encapsulated in Ice to contained the evil within.

And one fell into darkness, and It's king betrayed by his love that coveted a vessel. It wasn't the worse he saw, however.

For what came next was the worst he can imagine.

Ash covered this world. It's last Lord for hope betrayed that which he was promised to protect. The ancient city that bears the emblem of the Dragon, surrounded by fire and the dead man wandered its ruined roads. Their eyes burned with fire, and their hearts blacken with darkness.

It would happen again and again.

He saw a war in his homeland. Lords arisen with their false crowns, seeking fire and blood. All of them deceived by the lurkers hiding in their shadows. Blinded by what surrounds them.

From the North the Ice Wraiths sought the snuff out Fire, from the deep sea, the monsters sing as they eat off flesh and blood of man. Out of the earth, the ancients awaken in vengeance and bring fire to the skies.

And from the darkness, men take their true shape and bring ruin upon the world.

Light encircles darkness again.

And the dream once more faded again.

Jon Snow

"Jon-"

His shot open from his nightmare. Ignoring the yelling coming from his side, he quickly passes his eyes around his surroundings. He saw Theon armed with his bow ready, carefully keeping a watch out. Hallis and Alyn, had their swords out, also armed for any danger in sight.

Screech noises caught his ears, high above it were crows surrounding them on top of the tress. Continually flocking their wings fast. All the while everyone else looked with fear coming from the crows' noises.

What is going on here?

Robb shook him by his shoulder, "Jon I need you to listen to me!"

"Wh-what. What's going on?" Confusion crossed his face.

"I need you to listen to me," Robb answered with a serious tone. "Someone is watching us, our horses are missing. We need to get back to Crofters' village."

Jon looked to where they had their horses place. What's left behind were bloodstains coating the grounds and tree barks. Without thinking for a second, he quickly got up and grab his sword, unsheathed it. The steel was well made; it's edge ready to drink blood for the first time.

"Sorry for keeping you on hold," Jon said.

Theon frowned "Don't mind us, we'll let you sleep passively while the rest of us get gutted." he said sarcastically.

Jon was about to reply before Robb cut him off, "You made it clear Theon, but right now, we need to start moving." He turned back to Jon, "Brother, stand by me when walking, Theon keep our back if see anyone coming across. Aly and Hallis you are in front, let move!" Shouting, everyone got into positioned and started moving.

Passing the forest again, they were meet with the same silence. There were no other living creatures here anymore, with only the crows from where they were before as the only sign. Only it was an ominous, and now it was even further dark and gloomy here than before.

Clouds covered the sun, blocking out any light for them to see further ahead. It was indeed now a cursed place: a trap seeking to lure it's prey to their deaths and waiting for the right moment.

Jon felt the cold winds blowing, it was supposed to warm out for the rest of the day, but now things return to the harsh cold winters of the North. His home was never a truly a forgiving place for those sensitive to its weather. You'll die if you don't endure but once overcoming that trial, then it was a peaceful land.

Right now, they were on a trail that took them down a hill, a cliff on the edge of the other side where it leads to a dark corner of the forests. Shadows were bleeding out and spreading to the rest of the woods.

He didn't want to be here any longer now.

Alan drew his hand up causing everyone to stop. "Hold up," Jon couldn't see his head, as he looked forward up ahead. "I don't like what's in front of us, let me go ahead." He turned back to Robb.

His brother replied with a nod, and he walked several steps ahead. Up ahead looked what appeared to be a body on the ground. It was large and rotted. He couldn't place it as to what it was.

Jon felt alert to what was happening, all around him and from the others faces told them this was possibly a trap, but couldn't remain here. The winds picked up and filled the atmosphere with more dread then before. For once, he felt fear gripped his heart.

He went to make a step forward, before when suddenly something falls right in front of them. Quickly causing the rest to jump and Alys to turn back around.

It was the severed head of one of their horses.

[OST- NAMELESS KING]

Jon looked up and saw a man falling from a tall tree with two blades in hand. Landing right on top of Hallis, implanting his swords in his mouth and chest. Hallis' screams didn't cry out as blood chocked his voice.

He didn't have to think over as the assassin quickly jumps to attacking him and Robb.

The stranger had on a grab that was black, with the front of mask shaped that of an infant's face. Eye sockets had on black tears that made it look like the face was crying. He wields a scimitar that shined a milk glass color and a dagger that was bent out of shape.

He fought with a swiftness that put him and Robb at an unfair disadvantage. He continued thrusting his swords at them in a move set that's foreign to him. Whatever it was, this assassin was skilled.

As the masked man went for a stab at Robb, he quickly made for a block as Jon swiftly went to stab him. Their foe parried his attack and went for a reach around to thrust his blade at Jon. Their swords were locked together.

Their battle shortly ended, when the assassin hit with an arrow implanted into his shoulder.

Theon then launched another arrow, this time it made its way through from the back of his head. The second shot was reaching out of the eye socket of the mask. The assassin fell, his arms wide open as the body slumped over Robb.

He ran up to him along with Alyn. "You all right?!"

Robb shook his head, "Aye I'm fine, be he almost had me. Help me pull this off of me Jon."

He and Theon went to pull over the body off of Robb, and he took his brother's hand.

"My Lord," Alyn spoke, "Crofters' village shouldn't be too far from taking a trail down left-"

He didn't finish as an arrow implanted into his neck; his blood splattered on their faces.

Then came crackling noises from the trees all around them. Men with the same masks on, peeking out from behind the trees. Jon could be heard them singing a tune song, like that of a children choir. Their voices child-like, but with malice and empty. They couldn't understand the language they were speaking, but their voices sang with horror.

The song began to ring closer to their ears as it was coming behind. Turning their heads to the direction from where the body of the dead assassin laid.

He was standing up again, with the arrows still implanted into his shoulder and through his face. It was as though nothing had made an effect on him.

None of them were able to a comprehend on how their attacker was still alive. Nor were they focused on the assassins walking closer to them. They only thought of now running for their lives.

They ran fast as they could with much heavier breathing then the last. Never turning back to see if they were chasing after them, as the singing was never too far behind. Jon pressured himself to run faster than before in his life. So desperate to reach for safety, and escape death at the hands of these strangers. For the first time, he only thought about running away.

In confusion, he lost track of Robb, as he made a turn left running off the trail to lose track of his chasers. He saw Theon and brother taking a different direction. Not even bothering to look behind if he was still with them.

He now had to fend for himself.

The dreams began to flash before his eyes as he runs. Images of people long past, all looking down at him with scorn and hatred. He heard their voices cursing his name and their laughter was bitter.

He saw a light at the end of the forest. It shined brightly, that it felt better to be over there, then where he was now. His legs were beginning to tire, but could not stop, once he's reached over to the light.

He finally gave out when the trees were far from his presence and were only met with the open field of grass and the lakes. What was soon to be hope, was swiftly crushed when the light was close enough to make out what it was.

It was Crofters' village, burning.

The fires darken the sky, and screams were coming from inside the houses. Bodies filled the streets, and blood fed the soil ground. Jon fell to his knees at the display of death in front of him. There was no hope in sight for him. 'Am I going to die here...'

"No, not you bastard."

His eyes widen from the voice, going into the defense and looking at his surrounding. No insight speaks to him. Fear has finally gripped his soul, and Jon felt incapable and defeated.

Jon looked back to the forest to see if Robb and Theon would come out. If they had managed to make it back alive as he did, he would see them approach. The only thing Jon saw was the hundred of visible masks appearing out from the trees. All of them standing and watching.

He could not face them, too many in numbers for him to fight. One was able to put him, and Robb on the defense and that assassin rose back up from the dead. How could he face one alone, much so several at the same time?

With no other choice, he decided to walk further into the burning village. The last place to leave his mark when he would die.

All around him the fires burned, he saw the corpses around him. Massive wound cuts from in front and back behind their bodies. Their faces all had the same look about them, the openly shared horror of death at the hands of those assassins that chased after him. It was the only conclusion he could come to as who did this atrocity.

At the side, Jon saw the chieftain's body laying on the ground next to his sons. As they were all given the same sort of death of slashes on their bodies; with the exception, he saw on the chieftain's body, were on his wrists and a knife in his hands. It appears that he took his own life when witnessing the death of those that he loved dearly.

Eventually, the flames started to burn around him. The small houses were collapsing and catching the ground on fire. He found himself with the center within the burning village.

The flames spiraled and twisted. They were like crooked fingers, clawing everything around them. Jon was beginning to feel the heat strongly touching his skin. Eventually, he'll start to feel the burning pain if he stayed here any longer.

He heard the sound footsteps from behind, the sound of stepping over the bodies with no regard to walking over. He turned to meet the enemy, his hands gripping his sword tighter then it needed to be.

This stranger was different from the assassins. For he was tall and imposing. Wearing a strange black armor set, that appeared to be burned yet also still wearable to use. Ruined majestic robes attached to the armor, lose on the pauldrons and waists. In his hand was a straight sword, its hilt twisted and angled in a way that made the sword look demonic.

"Hmm, another, yet barely standing still." The stranger's voice was deep, with an apathetic tone to it.

Jon didn't reply, and he only brought his sword up, his hands turned white from holding it very tightly.

"It's only a matter of time. Soon you will be joining with the rest."

Jon's face twisted into anger. "I won't let you kill me without a fight!"

"Hmph," The armored man didn't seem impressed "...Very well then" he said, "Come forth, I'll let you deliver the first blow."

Charging forward, Jon brought his sword upwards and slashed at his opponent.

Their blades began dancing together, as the flames coiled and were like spectators watching them fight to the death.

Jon roared with each strike time and time again with all his might. The man in black armor didn't even flinch. His swings were strong but fought wiout much effort.

His opponent then struck with incredible speed, his attacks swift, causing him to lose the grip on his sword with every attack.

Jon found that he could fight any longer. He was losing his strength, his arms were aching, and every block, he sword pressed closer to his face.

Eventually, he collapsed, and his sword kicked out from his hand.

He could feel the dark blade plunged into his chest. Blood began to pour out of his chest and mouth. He couldn't find it in himself to yell out or curse his killer. The man, in turn, only looks at him beneath his hood, covering his face.

When his killer quickly pulls he sword out of his chest, his legs finally gave up on him, and he fell. His sword close to him was now a handicap to keep him from completely falling face down.

"You have lost," his killer said, "and now your soul will be mine."

The man brought his other hand up. A strange red glow was appearing, and he felt it's power coming close, consuming what was inside him. It was intense and a new experience a pain he never felt before.

He lifted the last of his strength into his fist and thrust a weak punch at his killer's face, once more in defiance at the bitter end of his life.

The glowing red hand dissipated, stopping from what he was about to do. Jon could feel the last of his strength returning. If he only for a few more breaths, he would throw in another punch.

The mysterious man in armor didn't draw upon his power again but instead looked at him, observing. He grabbed his face, lifting from his chin; Jon couldn't see his face, but he knew he was directly staring at him.

"Hmmmmm interesting."

He let go of him, and he was meet with a kick to his chest on his fatal wound.

"You stand defiant to the end, but there is a darkness inside you. An ecstasy of emotions and nostalgia flowing within you..." His head turns away for a moment. He lifted his hand again. It began to change into a different color.

He held in his hand a flame.

"From this moment forward...you will have no beginning..."

He slammed it into his wound.

"and without no end."

It felt a first as an intense pain only by his chest and heart. Now, Jon could feel the burning sensation all over his body. If this was what it felt to be burning alive, then he could finally scream now from the unimaginable pain spreading all over him.

What was only for a few seconds felt like hours of no end, without hope of the pain stops. Even now as he was entirely on the ground face front, looking towards the sky, the burning would not stop. He could feel it everywhere, but it felt like it was swallowing itself from where he first received the burning sensation and it only intensifies.

Jon couldn't tell if his killer was still there and watching and frankly didn't care at this point. He'd only wished now that this pain would stop and was granted the mercy of death.

Somehow Jon knew that wasn't coming soon.

From the sky, raindrops began pouring down. Jon could feel it coming against his face. It provided little comfort, as to the burning had only increased his already agony. The rain just got stronger that he can't tell from own tears falling out of his eyes.

Father...I failed you...Brother...I'm so sorry I left you behind...

And Arya...

I'm sorry that I can't be there for you anymore.

He heard voices screaming his name, but he couldn't turn his head to see who it was. The sound was difficult to pick up.

He has chosen to fall into a deep sleep where a couldn't wake up. Released his mind to stray away and wither away his senses.

And allow the darkness to take me...

HEY GUYS, HOPE YOU HAVE ENJOYED THIS. THERE WILL BE MORE TO COME BESIDES THIS I HAVE PLANED. LEAVE A REVIEW. IT HELPS A LOT TO GET YOUR INSIGHT.

DISCLAIMER: A Song of Ice and Fire belongs to G R.R. Martin, and Dark Souls belong to Hidetaka Miyazaki.