A cold hand grasped Jon's shoulder and roughly shook him awake.
"Wake up boy!" shouted an old looking frail man who had short white hair and a sizable beard.
"Who are you?" asked Jon with confusion.
"I have been called by many names within my vast lifetime." Answered the elder man as he began to walk off into the distance having his traces covered by snow.
Jon wondered how the hell he got here. Who the hell was the damn old man? He needed to find answers to his question, with determination Jon headed off into the coming storm hoping to find the old man.
"It took you long enough to make up your mind boy. Maybe we made a mistake in choosing you. Only time will tell." Said the old man with condescension.
"Who are you? How did I get here? What do you mean choose me?" asked Jon as he slowly approached the old man.
"You're not very good at listening boy. You don't need to know who I am, you only need to know that I am your friend not your enemy." Answered the old man with frustration why did it have to be this boy.
"Fine don't tell me your name! Can't you least tell me how in the seven hells I got here from Winterfell?" asked Jon with growing frustration if the old man did not give him any answer then he would just start looking for someone else to help him in this frozen hell hole.
"Your still in Winterfell's court yard. I just thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to show you what the true enemy looks like." Said the old man as he reached his finger out to lightly touch Jon's forehead.
Images of men made of ice riding ice spiders filled Jon's head. With each step the men took towards Jon more of the surrounding world turned into a winter wasteland. Air began to escape Jon's lungs when he made eye contact with what he believed were the ice men's leader. Jon tried to slow down his heart and forced himself to take calming deep breaths, no air would flow through his lungs it was as if his blood was frozen solid.
"Jon!" shouted the old man as he slapped Jon's face over and over again.
"Who where they?" asked a very frightened Jon whose face was pale as a ghost.
"They are the enemy. Your people know them as the white walkers." Answered the old man as he looked deep into Jon's eyes trying to see if they were still the same color as before.
"You have to be jesting the white walkers have been dead for thousands of years." Said Jon with a light chuckle that quickly ended when he saw the old man's face.
"The stories you were told as a babe were a lie the real story is a lot bloodier." Said the old man as he reached out his finger and waited for Jon to decide if he wanted the real story or not.
Jon leaned forward and let the finger lightly graze his forehead.
A woman with long black hair sat down near a heart tree saying a prayer for her lover as he went off to war with her father. The young man was not of noble birth he had to earn everything that came his way. He asked the girls father if he could marry her the answer he received was that of blood. Three of his friends who came with him not trusting the chief were forced down to their knee's and their heads were token off and kicked towards him. The man claimed that he would have vengeance and traveled all throughout the land recruiting any man or women who wanted to make a name for themselves. The father of the women called for every woods witch in the area, he had a plan to curse the boy. The boy was lured to the palace with honeyed words of peace and a wedding. As soon as the boy stepped foot into the castle he was bound in chains and dragged before the royal family. As the lovers looked into each other's eyes for one last time a tear slid down the woman's face. A knife found home in the man heart and his body was left out in the gods wood for the animals to feast on.
The vision quickly turned black and Jon woke up to see the face of the old man. Jon felt that there was more to the tale than the old man was willing to show Jon.
"You have been here for to long. I need to send you back before your body dies." Said the old man as he reached forward and push Jon's shoulder.
Jon awoke in the courtyard of Winterfell crowed by Robb, Ser Rodrick, and Heath.
"Are you alright?" asked a worried Robb who moments ago thought that Jon was dead. No matter how many times Ser Rodrick shock his shoulder or slapped him across the face Jon body would not stir, they even poured a bucket of water on him to no avail.
"You had me worried they're for a second Snow. Why don't sit down and catch your breath for a while." Said Ser Rodrick as he lightly grasped Jon's shoulder as he walked away to put away the weapons.
Jon nodded his head showing that he heard what was said. Jon slowly got up from his position on the ground with the help of both Robb and Heath. As Jon began to stumble towards the benches he felt a hand grab his arm and put it around their shoulders.
"Got to make sure you don't fall and hurt yourself worst." Said Robb with a smile as he leads Jon towards the seat and helped him get settled before taking off to resume his training.
"You did a decent job in the fight Snow." Said Heath as he sat down right next to Jon.
"I still lost." Said Jon with a frown.
"Have you ever heard the saying that you learn more from losing than wining?" asked Heath with a frown why could this boy not just take a compliment and it be the end of it.
"I can't afford to lose. I already get looked down on and have to work twice as hard as Robb or Theon to get any recognition." Said Jon with a slight tremor in his voice.
"Damn anyone who doesn't believe in you. All that matters in this world is what you do for yourself, so stop comparing yourself to Robb, Theon, hell even lord Stark. You're a Snow own it make it yours." Said Heath while he looked straight into Jon's eyes challenging him to question him.
"Will you teach me how to fight?" asked Jon with determination he needed to get better for what was to come.
"You already know how to fight like a highborn lord." Answered Heath.
"Then teach me how to fight like a low born." Said Jon.
"A Stark can never fight like a lowborn, we don't give a shit about honor if a man is down you do not allow him to yield, you strike hard and true and kill him, can you do that Jon? Could you give up your honor?" asked Heath with curiosity.
"Good thing I am not a Stark." Answered Jon with a smirk.
"Fine I'll teach you every dirty trick and underhand move I know. It won't be easy you might not even make it through one day." Said Heath as he got up from his seat and offered Jon his hand to shake to signify the deal was made.
Jon grabbed Heath's hand and gave him a firm handshake. Jon could not be weak anymore if he had to lose his honor than he would. He was afraid of what was to come if he stayed on his path of honor during a time when war was quickly approaching. Jon began to train with Heath every single morning and slowly improved in his combat as well as his survival skills, each night when Jon would head off to bed his body was sporting new bruises. On a morning after training for two months Heath asked Jon to join him in the gods wood. Heath had come up with a test for Jon they would set off into the woods and Jon would have to survive on his own in the wild and would not be allowed back in camp until a week had passed.
Jon grabbed a sword, an axe, and a bow from camp and began to head off deeper into the forest. Sounds of wildlife greeted Jon as he trenched forward looking for some source of water to set up his camp at. After walking for what felt like hours Jon spotted a stream and decided that it was as good a place as any to set up camp. After a few days of fishing Jon ran out of firewood that was near by so he decided that he should pile up on fire wood from now on.
Off in the distance Jon spotted a fallen Tree. Grabbing his axe Jon began to walk towards the tree to gather firewood. The closer that Jon got to the tree the more eerie feeling he had in the pit of his stomach. A small voice was telling him to head back to camp and worry about getting more supplies later. Jon decided that he would ignore that voice and kept on walking towards the fallen tree. Instant regret filled Jon when he saw what took down the tree, it was a giant black bear that had made eye contact with him. Before he knew what was happening the bear began to charge and his legs took over as he sprinted away as fast as he could. Jon looked back to see how far away the animal was which was mistake, he missed a branch right in front of him that tripped him.
The bears claws dinged themselves into Jon's back. The pain felt as if his entire body was on fire. He needed to calm down and fight back if he was going to survive. The bear reared back its head it let at a loud roar that could be heard all the way in Winterfell. As the bear came back down it snapped its teeth at Jon getting a grip on Jon's arm that he used to protect his neck and snapped the bone half. Jon let out a pained moan and reached with his good arm towards his axe, the bear was having none of this and began to twist its head back and forth dragging Jon around the forest floor. Knowing that his time was short Jon let out a feral howl and began to strike the bear over and over again with axe killing it. After realizing the bear was dead Jon did not stop he kept swinging the axe down and down and down covering himself in a coat of the bears blood and severing the head from the body. After the head rolled away Jon caught his breath and reached his good hand down wetting it with blood and he began to paint his face red, after painting his face Jon grabbed the discarded head and began to walk back towards where Heath would be waiting.
As Jon approached Heath he threw the head towards Heath's feet and announced that he was now finished with his training.