Chapter 3: The Wall

Everything was dark and cold he could hear voices above him he groaned in pain as he opened his eyes. The world around him was different then the world he once knew he was in a snow-covered forest.

He saw the shadow of a knife on the snow-covered ground. Slowly and carefully he freed the dagger Phoebus had given him and blindly lunged at his attackers. He fell to the ground as someone punched him in the face knocking down.

He shook his head trying to clear his blurred vision he could see his dagger behind him he reached for it only to feel a knife pressed against his throat. "Don't move." A women with hair as red as his stood behind him.

She pressed the knife deeper into his throat a streak of blood trickled down his throat. Wait! A man appeared from nearby dressed in furs just like the woman holding the blade to his throat. "Lets let the king decide his fate."

The woman growled in frustration. "Fine!" She kept the tip of the blade pressed against the back of his neck. "Move!" Quasimodo reluctantly obeyed. Whoever these people were he knew they would kill him if he tried to fight.

The snow-covered trees soon thinned out replaced by an icy frozen wasteland he could see mountains in the distance. Move! The woman shouted again pushing him forward he almost lost his balance on the icy ground but managed to regain his footing as he continued on.

As they came over the hill he could see what looked like a camp of some sort down below. Move! The woman growled nudging him forward they moved down the path into the camp people watched him pass their eyes narrowed as they watched him pass they were also dressed in furs similar to that of his captors.

Large tents lined the frozen valley. Move! The woman growled yet again pushing towards the largest of the tents they dragged him into the tent forcing him to his knees. An old man stepped from the shadows dressed in the same grey furs as the others.

The boy looked down avoiding the old mans gaze. "Well, well, well, What do we have here?" The old man chuckled. "Now what have you found today Ygritte...A spy perhaps?" I-I'm not a spy. No? The old man frowned. "Kill him!" He growled.

Quasimodo felt the dagger pressed deeper into his throat. He couldn't breathe his vision was starting to blur he could feel the blood running down his neck. Was this it? Was he going to die! Wait! The old man shouted.

Quasimodo gasped for air as the dagger was removed from his throat. The old man approached him stopping inches in front of him. One of the men in fur grabbed a handful of his red hair yanking his head back so he had no choice but to look their so-called king in the eyes.

"What do they call you boy?" He kept his mouth shut refusing to answer. A dagger pressed against his neck. "Answer him!" The woman named Ygritte growled tightening her grip on the knife. "Q-Quasimodo." He said attempting to hide the fear in his voice.

"Put him to work." The man said waving them off. "I'm a reasonable man, I will let you live...For now." A few hours later he was dressed in furs like the other strangers. He wasn't sure why he was even still alive to be honest but in all honesty the hard work distracted him from his so-called destiny .

That night he sat on a hill overlooking the tundra beyond the camp. He felt a hand on his shoulder and almost jumped out of his skin. "Relax kid, its only me." He turned to glare at the red-haired woman before turning his attention back to the frozen wasteland.

"I figured you might be hungry." He looked frowned at the bowl with suspicion. "Relax its not like I poisoned it." He finally relented taking the bowl from her. In the bowl was some kind of meat. He wasn't sure what it was but ate regardless of his suspension.

He stared at the icy world below. "Beautiful, Isn't it?" He didn't answer. "Who...Are you people." She looked somewhat puzzled. "I could ask you the same." Did you come from south of the wall? I don't...He paused what could he say. He sighed. I-I don't remember. "You're a terrible liar."

Dam it! He thought bitterly to himself. She's clever. He sighed. "Y-You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Try me. He relented he told her everything or at least that he'd come from another world he kept the so-called prophecy to himself. Hmm. That makes a lot of sense.

He sighed "I don't know how I got here alright I'm just trying to find my...my family." You really don't know anything do you? The woman asked him. The boy shook his head. "N-Not a clue." Over the next few days she told him everything he needed to know about the so called "Free folk" also known as wildlings to outsiders." As well as their king a man named Mance Rayder.

He wasn't sure why the so called "king" had spared his life maybe he saw something he didn't or maybe he just didn't feel like killing someone that day. Who knows. He spent eight weeks in that camp the wildlings were somewhat impressed with his incredible strength.

However things would soon change. He stood on the same hill he'd stood on a few weeks ago his first day in camp. "What ya looking at?" The boy jumped almost falling off the hill. The older woman laughed at his clumsiness much to his annoyance.

"I wish you wouldn't sneak up on me like that!" He growled. He sighed annoyed this woman would not leave him alone! Perhaps she just liked annoying him. However he became distracted as he look out at the snow-covered world.

"I...I wonder what's out there?" I've been here for weeks and I haven't left the camp once! Ygritte turned pale the color draining from her face. "Trust me your lucky your not out there. "What do you mean?" Ygritte what's out there? "T-The less you know the better."

The next day however he learned he was being sent on a patrol of the camp boarders with Ygritte and a few others. Ygritte was not happy about it but knew better than to argue with her king. "Stick close." She warned him.

Why? What aren't you telling me? "Its nothing you need to worry about kid." Lets just get this done, alright! She's right said one of the other warriors. "I'd hate to be out here after dark." Quasimodo gave a nervous gulp as he stuck close to the others hopeful he wouldn't get lost however luck was not on his side.

As they were heading back to camp a blizzard kicked up the dense icy fog shielded their eyes and kept them from seeing each other. He called out Ygritte's name in the hope he'd find his friend she'd warned him about sticking close and now he was lost.

He called out her name his voice swallowed by the howling wind. He soon found a nearby gave and huddled inside until the storm died down. By the time the storm had ended it had started getting darker as he exited the cave he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He spun around relieved to see Ygritte. "There you are you idiot!" What where you thinking! "I told you to stick close." Why are you blaming me! Blame the blizzard! She sighed. "Fair point, lets get back to camp before it gets to dark."

Suddenly they heard a shout they saw a man running towards them. The man shouted at them waving his hands. "What's he saying?" Quasimodo asked man shouted even louder and the word "Whitewalkers" echoed on the wind. Suddenly Something lunged at the man from the fog slicing his throat.

Ygritte drew her dagger. Run, W-What? RUN NOW! She shouted Quasimodo obeyed running for his life he ran through the snow-covered wasteland not bothering to stop he finally hide behind a rock to catch his breath.

What...Had he just witnessed! What was that thing he saw? He remembered what the man had been shouting before he'd been attacked. Whitewalker. Whatever that thing was he did not want to meet another.

He peeked out from behind the rock. His surroundings looked somewhat unfamiliar. He could see what looked like a giant wall in the distance. Was this the wall he'd heard about from the wildlings? Being on the other side of the wall was probably better than being killed by these creatures.

He was about to run for the wall when he saw a figure approaching from the fog. He heard a thud and saw the face of the same wildling who'd tried to warn them. The man was barely alive blood covered his throat. R-Run. He said in a strangled voice.

The mans neck was suddenly snapped by a large icy hand. Quasimodo slowly looked up coming face to face with a Whitewalker. The creatures skin looked to be made of ice and its eyes were the strangest shade of blue he'd ever seen. He took the dead mans advice and ran!

The creature let out an unearthly howl as he ran towards the wall no longer caring whether his friend was still alive. He felt like a coward, but Ygritte had warned him and maybe he should have listened he shouted to the guards on the wall the word Whitewalker leaving his lips. As he got closer to the wall he suddenly lost his balance and slipped on the icy ground hitting his head on a rock causing him to black out.

A few hours later Quasimodo was startled awake by someone throwing a bucket of ice-cold water at him. He coughed the water trickling down his face. "Well, well, look who finally decided to wake up." An old man stood in the corner of the room.

The old man was dressed all in black and his hair was as white as the snow outside. The man drew his sword pressing the tip of the blade under his chin. "Give me one good reason not to kill you, wildling scum!" I'm...I'm not a wildling. Sure you aren't the man said and I bet you just found those clothes somewhere Just lying around right? Why don't you start being honest boy, It will be much easier for you.

The boy didn't answer. The man was about plunge the end of his sword into his heart when someone stopped him. Wait! A younger man with dark hair and dark eyes stepped forward. "With all due respect commander he mentioned Whitewalkers when we found him." We barley survived that attack from that whight a few days ago. "A Whitewalker is almost impossible to kill."

"We should at least hear what he has to say." The old man let out a tired sigh. Fine. Alright boy what exactly did you see? The nervous boy told them of the blue-eyed creature he'd seen. "Did you see anything else?" The boy shook his head.

The old man gave a tired sigh and glared at the boy. "What is your name...Boy." Having been through this before the boy didn't hesitate to answer. "Quasimodo." The man gave him a puzzled look but shook his head. "Release him." The dark-haired stranger unlocked the chains.

"I'll leave the boy in your charge snow but one wrong move, one slip up and I'll give him to the Whitewalkers!" Yes sir. The old man opened the door glanced back at the boy and slammed the door shut.

"Sorry he's like that a lot its not easy guarding this wall all day." I'm John by the way. John snow. Quasimodo the teen said. A few hours later he was dressed in black clothes like the rest of the nights watchmen and sat in an empty dining hall with John.

"So how did you get on the other side of the wall?" I mean its obvious your not a wildling. "Honestly...I don't remember he lied deciding not to tell his strange new friend that he'd spent a week in a wildling camp.

A wolf pushed open the door to the dinning hall with his snout causing the boy to jump up in alarm. "Relax that's just ghost he's my pet Dire wolf. Pet? "Well friend more than anything." He scratched the white wolf behind the ears.

That night Quasimodo tossed and turned he couldn't sleep he could think only of the so-called prophecy .The one that had to do with him. He remembered the part about the watcher on the wall. He wondered...was John the one the song had referred to?! He had stood up for him. Maybe he was?

However there was still much to do he still needed to find his aunt. John had shown him a map of Westeros it was bigger than he'd realized how was he going to complete this prophecy if he didn't know what to do? He pulled the amulet from around his neck. "What do I do now?" Whatever came next he'd face it! Next time he had to fight he wasn't going to run away! He closed his eyes giving in to his exhaustion./p