Jon
He was in front of the weirwood, the red eyes dripping blood, and the crow was in the branches, it had 3 eyes once more.
"Who are you?" Jon asked. "Why did you help me?"
"It is only natural that kin should help kin, Jon Snow."
Jon didn't know what to say to that, so he thought over all his experiences with the crow, and he remembered the tales old nan used to tell.
"I'm dreaming, that much is clear," he mused. "Either I've gone mad or you can talk to me in dreams. Green dreams."
"Clever, but inaccurate," the crow said. "A green dream may or may not come to pass, and what we're doing right now is most certainly real."
"It was said the children of the forest could speak through animals."
"Better, but it's no use to keep this game of guessing," the crow flew in front of Jon's face. "You must come to me, to the east, before the Antler River, the birds will guide you. You must be quick, for the Others may follow you."
Jon shivered, he knew why they were hunting him.
"Don't wear the ring, it is essential."
Jon woke to a pair of red eyes, the direwolf was watching him while eating a rabbit. He got up with some difficulty and looked to his surroundings.
He was sitting beneath a tree and a small fire was burning nearby, all around him he saw people, warriors and spearwives clutching their weapons, women with little children and livestock, old men and women tending to the wounded, he was in a camp of the Free Folk.
"You're awake, can you walk?" A boy spoke, he couldn't be older that eight or nine.
Jon stood, slowly every bone in his body ached but he was no longer exhausted. "What time is it? How long since the attack?"
"Near noon," the boy responded. "The dead attacked two days ago, I was told to watch you today and brought you to the chief if you awoke, my brother did the same yesterday."
'Tormund,' Jon remembered. "I can walk, lead me to him."
It was clear that the camp had been thrown in a hurry in the first forest clearing they found, almost all the effort was spent in the fires and there was little in the way of defenses, the majority of the people didn't even have a tent.
They soon arrived at the center, where a few tents stood. Jon recognized Dryn, the youngest son of the Giantsbane, playing with a few other children. The memory of Winterfell assault him so suddenly he had to stop. 'He's no older than Bran.'
After a few heartbeats he gathered himself and went inside the largest tent, Tormund was inside with the rest of his sons, alongside Longspear Ryk and another warrior Jon didn't recognize.
"Good to see you walking lad, and without blue eyes. We have much to talk"
"We do," Jon said. "I suppose Toregg mentioned the spider?"
"You disappeared, and then you were at its side, killing it," then man in question said. "You're a sorcerer of some kind, else I've gone mad."
"The whole world has gone mad," Jon mused, he took a deep breath. 'This is a gamble.'
He took out the ring, it seemed a simple piece of gold but Jon knew it would shine as a star as soon as he wear it. "This ring, should I put it on I'll become unseen."
He watched for any sign of the greed that had overcome Varamyr, Ghost was just outside the tent, ready to pounce. There were only expressions of disbelief.
"A magic ring?" Tormund spoke. "Do you expect us to belief that?"
"Your son saw it with his own eyes, you've been fighting dead men for years, you saw the Milkwater become as gentle as a stream. Don't tell me now that magic is a children's story."
There was silence in the tent, all seeming to consider his words, finally it was the Toregg who spoke. "Can you show us, Snow?"
'Now comes the hard part.'
"No, I must not," Jon responded. "You won't see me when I put this on, but the Others will. They want this ring and will come as soon as they sense me."
The warrior grunted. "Mighty convenient for you, crow."
Jon's face twitched. "Have you ever felt their cold eyes on you? Have you ever wondered how an ant must feel as you squash it? I wouldn't call it convenient."
"What of Ygritte?" Said Longspear Ryk, with a cold voice.
He lowered his eyes and took a heartbeat to answer, his irritation gone. "The giant spider killed her."
"So," Ryk said with anger in his voice. "You couldn't save her with that thing, why should we even have you around when…"
"As I see it," Tormund interrupted him, his jovial demeanor nowhere to be seen. "We could expel you from the camp and be safe."
'I'm putting them at risk, just as I put her at risk … but can I get to the crow alone?'
"You could, then the Others will hunt me down and take the ring from me, and nothing would have changed for you. The shadows will keep hunting you and raising your dead. Can you even take the wall now that the great host has been broken?"
The chieftain looked unimpressed. "And you think you can fight 'em? No man can fight the cold shadows, you used your ring that night and ran with everyone else."
"And how did we ran away?" Jon asked. "I may not be able to fight them, but the Children can."
"All the Kings Beyond the Wall tried to find 'em," he said with a snort. "They're all dead."
"Come now, Giantsbane," Jon walked closer to him. "You know the old stories as well as I do, better even. They made the sea rise to swallow the land, shook the earth and turned the trees into warriors. Who else could slow a river? I've been dreaming of a crow since I found the ring, I believe it's them and it beckons me to follow."
Tormund was about to retort, but his eldest son beat him to it. "Follow where?"
"East, somewhere before the Antler River. And I'll need your help to get there."
"East, madness," Tormund's voice was sharp. "The rest of the host would be south and west, if Mance still lives we should rejoin him and take your wall."
"If," he responded, and started to play with the ring. "Why were we in the Frostfangs in the first place? Searching for a magic weapon to bring dawn the wall. Well there's magic alright, just not for the wall."
Jon couldn't believe what he was going to say next. It seemed so crazy and he was sure he and his siblings said such words while playing. And yet a small chuckle came from his throat.
"During the Long Night a man went looking for the Children of the Forest, with nothing more than twelve friends and a dog. They had nothing but hope and each man died for that hope, a mad quest… But he succeeded, the last hero found the Children and the White Walkers were vanquished. Now they come again. Maybe it's our turn to hope."
No one had anything to say, whether he had convinced them or they thought him mad, Jon couldn't say.
Then a multitude of shrieks were heard, as loud as sudden storm, and everyone went outside the tent. All around the camp crows, ravens and other birds were perched in the trees. Hundreds of them.
They continued to make their calls for some time, amidst the panicking shouts of the Freefolk. Then they took fly as one, to the east. Silence engulf the camp for a few moments.
"HAR!' Tormund's thunderous laugh was heard across the forest. "My eyes never lied to me, and I'm not old enough for 'em to start," he turned to Jon. "We'll find those Children, Snow. Might be they can restore my member's other's half."
Jon had to laugh alongside him. "Why? Don't you shame enough men already?"
In that moment a grey horse approached them, Jon's garron. 'It survived through the night…' He looked at a lingering bird. 'No, it was saved.'
They spent a watchful but uneventful night and broke camp next morning, heading east.
It was a slower journey than the one he had done with the watch, as the Freefolk host included the old, the young and their animals, not to mention that only a handful were mounted. Jon used his time to train with his new weapon, a crude axe that made him miss Longclaw, as well as to train the Freefolk in proper tactics. 'Trying to train them at least.'
"Why do that, Snow? This won't stop the dead," An old warrior protested when Jon explained them how to form a wedge of pikes with the spears of wood hardened in the fire.
"Not the dead, no, but it'll stop the spiders," he told them he how fought against those icy beasts. "Those things are alive, they won't skewered themselves to kill us."
Almost half of the fighters had been with Jon that night, and they were eager to get whatever edge they could over the nightmarish creatures. Tormund had to deal the rest, with threats, bribes or even fistfights. None had challenged Jon to one of those. 'A direwolf has that effect on people.'
Getting the camp in any order was equally difficult, on that matter many brawls did broke out and Jon had to participate, if only to finish them with Ghost by his side. 'If I didn't have Tormund and Toregg how many duels would I have fought?'
Luckily those who had fought in the rearguard did as they told them, if muttering about tyrants and damn wargs. It was in the third week of travel when the attack came.
"I tell you boy," Tormund said while eating his stew. "All those fancy defenses and… formations was it? All that won't stop the dead, you're making trouble for shit."
"It's not about stopping them," Jon insisted. "If we can slow them enough those who are too weak to fight can flee." There was about three thousand souls following them, Jon wouldn't make a run for the crow with only the warriors.
The chieftain was silent. Jon pursed his lips.
"If nothing else we won't have to fight them as wights, and remember that we have a safe place to get to."
"Safe? The Children told you that? As far as you said they only want you and your ring," Tormund let out a heavy sight. "I get it lad, you want to save my people, and I thank you for that. But remember, the Last Hero lost all his friends before the Children took him in. Up here the stories about 'em are harsher, I think."
"Even so, I want as few enemies as possible."
The sound Tormund made wasn't laugh, it was barely a chuckle. "You can make all the excuses you want, but you have a good heart Jon Snow. Might be it'll freeze out here."
The sound of horns interrupted them, and Jon all but ran in their direction. 'East? I expected an attack in the rear.'
When he arrived he saw Toregg swigging his two handed axe at a wight, cutting off it's arm. Jon joined the fray and started hacking at a corpse with a club, his axe only damaged the wight's hand enough for it to drop the weapon, but it continued to come at him.
'With Longclaw I'd be in my fourth wight by now.'
He kicked at the corpse and leaved it for Ghost. He dealt with the next wight alongside a spearwife, and the third he only had to hit a few times before Ghost pounced on it.
'Most don't have weapons, what is this?'
He had a strange sensation that only grew stronger as he walked further east, he could feel ring on his pocket, but it wasn't the burning demand to use it he felt that day. Almost as if it was responding to another force, almost as if it was feeding another force.
Whatever it was, it was affecting the wights, Jon barely needed to dodge their attacks, so clumsy and slow they were.
"We're too far away, a trap." Toregg said when they arraved at the foot of a small hill, it had white roots sticking out of it.
"Go boy."
With that the white wolf shot out ahead and Jon turned to his companions. "Send a runner, we may just move further."
"In the night? That's suicide."
Jon only closed his eyes and reach out, soon enough he had four legs once more. Ghost was running through the forested hill, he evaded a corpse that tried to grab him and barreled against another. The wolf could sense the weakness of this foes.
When he arrived to the top he saw another wight, this one struggling to even stand, he walked past it and suddenly the woods lost the scent of death that had so scared the direwolf once.
Jon opened his eyes and turned to his makeshift warband. "We press ahead. We're almost there."
The gentle slope of the hill reminded him of the time his father had taken him and his brother to see one of the barrows of the First Men, a lifetime ago.
"Race you ahead!" Robb shouted.
They had scarcely moved when Ned Stark's voice stopped them. "This is the final resting place of the death, you would dishonor your ancestors?"
The boys were properly chastised, and uttered apologies.
"That said," the Lord of Winterfell continued, with a twinkle in his eyes. "I have it on good authority that here only rest horses."
Eddard Stark laughed as the two boys raced to the top, as he had once done with a wild boy and girl.
The shambling of the corpse Ghost had left behind tore him from his memories, for that Jon was ready to hack it to pieces, but when they got close the wight simply fell apart, the blue eyes going out like a small fire under the rain.
"Get word, and do it fast." This time his orders were promptly followed.
He and twenty warriors reached the top and saw a great weirwood atop a rock formation some distance away. They descended to other side of the hill, and then keep walking towards it.
Ghost was waiting for them in the entrance of a cave alongside a crow, he wasn't attacking the bird.
"Well, if they eat me down there Ghost will let you know."
Jon entered.