Huh... I was not expecting this.

The Other, or whatever, had fallen to her knees, after I used [True Resurrection] to bring her ass back from the dead – or whatever state of being she'd been at that point. Because something was different about her. Actually, a lot of small, very discreet things were suddenly different. Overall, she'd still be seen as an Other – no doubt about that. But then, if she was made to stand next to another Other, one would then begin to unravel the tiny differences. Somehow, [True Resurrection] reverted her very being into... something. Whatever the Other had now turned into, I could say for certain that she wasn't dead. At least, not anymore. She used to be. I could feel, after all, the presence of death itself and the energies that lingered about them; and this one used to have those energies before [True Resurrection] hit her like a ton of bricks. So, now, she wasn't even undead anymore. She was something that was alive, but existed in a state of life that was so utterly alien to anything I knew that a lot of doctors would think her existence was outright impossible.

This had... very interesting implications, honestly.

One thing that immediately came to mind was the possibility that this world was definitely way older than I previously thought, even older than what GRRM probably intended. I already knew about the supposed elder races, like the Children of the Forest, the Giants, the Fishmen, and the Others, but I didn't think there was any magical tampering going on. Therefore, I figured two distinct possibilities: the Others were all 'alive' at some point, before the Great Other came and fucked everything up, like Nerzhul did with the Nerubians in Warcraft, fucking up their culture or something like that. Whatever the case, the Others used to be something else, before the Great Other warped them somehow, turned them into monsters – or into greater monsters than they already were. The second possibility was that

"Can you understand me?" I asked the kneeling Other. In my head, referring to her as an 'Other' was eventually going to create a bunch of annoying confusions. But, if there was no real way to communicate, then I couldn't exactly ask for her name, which would really fucking suck. Surprisingly, the Other nodded, though she remained on a kneeling position. I got a feeling from Nightfury that the good boy was actively enjoying the sight of a vanquished foe on its knees. Great. The Fatalis was power tripping. "Stand."

The Other did as I commanded, rising to her feet. "Can you speak the same tongue as I do?"

She stared at me for a moment, totally motionless, before nodding. I nodded back. "Do you have a name?"

She nodded again. Good, she understood me and she had a name. Honestly, that was probably good enough, but I wanted to know more. I wanted to know why she bowed. I wanted to know what she was and what the story of her people was. I wanted to know everything. But, first and foremost, I wanted to know her name. "Tell me your name."

When she spoke, her voice was no longer akin to the breaking and cracking of ice, but to the howling and bone-chilling winds of a great blizzard, the sort that buried houses underneath several feet of snow and caused people's noses, ears, and fingers to fall off from frostbite. It was different from the ice thing and yet so familiar. This time, however, for some odd reason that I did not know, I understood her words. Somehow, through the chaos of her voice, through the sound of rushing wind and howling storms, I caught the meaning of her words. The hows and whys escaped me entirely. But her name was Little-Cloud. I was also pretty sure of the fact that the only reason I even vaguely understood her was through magical bullshit. Otherwise, no human being would be able to make sense of what she was saying.

"Little-Cloud," I said, obviously not speaking her tongue. She understood me, nonetheless. At this point, I had to wonder if that thing was happening, where I thought I was speaking English to her, but was actually doing the blizzard voice thing or some shit that only other people could hear. "Nice name. Can you tell me what you are?"

She answered and I understood. And it was, honestly, quite a bit sad.

Little-Cloud barely even remembered her own name when I asked. The true history of her people was so inconceivably ancient that she simply... no longer remembered, despite being the oldest of the Others. She was a child when the Great White came and began corrupting her people to its service, but her memory has since disappeared in the cold. Everything that her people used to be, their culture, their beliefs, all of it disappeared and died with her memories. The rest of the Others were derived from all the infants who'd survived alongside her, about a dozen, like her, descended from the original folk – inhuman, life beyond life, souls of ice and cold. The rest were taken from humans as infants and turned. These ones were soulless, their beings consumed by the Great White completely. I figured [True Resurrection] would probably just turn them back into humans.

It seemed like one of my guesses as to the origin of the Others was somewhat correct. They were an entire species onto themselves before the Great Other – or the Great White – came and fucked them over with some kind of corruption thing. But, then again, Little-Cloud herself no longer remembered when or how the Great White came, only that it did and that its arrival heralded the end of her people, of who they used to be.

Tragic, I suppose. And I really had to wonder if GRRM came up with this shit or if this was one of those things where the ROB just kind of filled in the blanks for me to make the world more wondrous than it should be. Not that I was complaining, of course, since having a more fantastical world to play in meant more interesting shit for me to uncover. Damn, now I really wanted to visit Essos and see the cool stuff there. I knew the Others and the Great Other had some kind of bastion in the Lands of Always Winter, but I wasn't dumb enough to actually invade the realm of another god – at least, not until I became one myself.

Whatever the case, the only question that really mattered was, "Why did you bow to me?"

She spoke again. It was so fascinating, really, how Little-Cloud was able to transmit so much information with what almost seemed like a single word – a single paragraph's worth of information, at least. And her answer baffled me with its simplicity: only a true god could give true life to the dead. Not even the Great White was capable of such a thing – for all it could do was give false life to the dead, to force them to move through the power of ice and cold. The Great White's nemesis, the Deep Red, could do a similar thing with heat and fire. But what I'd done was grant true life – a full life. And that meant I was more worthy of worship than any god she'd ever encountered, greater even than the Great White.

"So... I guess you're a follower of mine now?" I shrugged, rubbing my head. I turned to Nightfury, who also shrugged. Through our mental connection, the good boy also became intimately aware of Little-Cloud's story and, while he didn't care, he no longer thought of her as a threat, which was good. Eh, I could use another follower, I suppose, one who can actually fight and not die too easily. I was pretty sure that, being a magical ice elf, Little-Cloud still retained her ice powers and super strength, both of which made for a potent mix. "Are you still weak to fire and dragonglass?"

Little-Cloud shrugged and answered.

She had no idea. She did remember, however, that her people shied away from fire, even before the coming of the Great White; so, that was something, I guess. To be entirely fair, however, most things didn't like getting burned. Dragonglass and Valyrian Steel, however, were two things I wasn't sure about testing, because I remembered them being absolutely lethal to the Others and it was entirely possible that she still shared that very same weakness. So, that meant Little-Cloud would need some armor, at the very least.

The one she had now was fucked beyond repair, but I figured getting her a new one wouldn't be too hard – that or she was perfectly capable of creating her own equipment. "We're just gonna have to come up with some other thing for you to wear, like normal metal – something that'll stop Dragonglass Weapons and Valyrian Steel."

Little-Cloud nodded.

As far as I understood, Valyrian Steel weapons weren't any sharper than any other well-made sword or knife; the only difference was that they didn't break, chip, rust, or otherwise wither, which was a problem with most edged weapons. And that meant they weren't really going to cut through other metal weapons or any other crazy anime shit like that. They weren't going to cut through armor, either, at least not against some kind of chain mail or plate armor.

Right.

Now what? I won. And, unless the Great Other was going to send a contingent of Others after me, then I had no reason to stick around here any longer than was necessary.

I turned to Little-Cloud, who let out a single word in her tongue.

She'd follow me to the very edges of the world. I was her new god. Nothing else mattered now, only my will and my word. That was good, I suppose. The idea of being worshiped made me feel weird, but I did like the idea of having a very loyal, very powerful follower who just so happened to worship me as a god. Eh, whatever. Shit like this was bound to happen at some point with all of my magical shit. Compared to everyone else on Planetos, I was basically a god.

"Eh, fuck it," I said, shrugging. I'd wasted too much time here. Not much point left in staying, since the Great Other didn't seem keen on sending more after me. "We'll make do with whatever. You can survive hotter climates, right, as long as you're not set on fire?"

Little-Cloud nodded.

And then, I just remembered something – something very important. I could not stop the grin that threatened to split my face apart as I turned to Nightfury. "Go look for that other dragon and see if it's still moving. If it is, kill it, but don't mutilate it – at least, not too much."

Nightfury huffed and flew off. That Ice Dragon had been fucking huge, a true plus-sized chonk monster of epic proportions. It was probably twice as big as freaking Balerion the Black Dread – or just as big, depending on the source material. Whatever the case, it was definitely bigger than Nightfury, who was far from tiny. The good boy flew up and started flying around. I turned back to Little-Cloud, who was just standing there, like a statue – not even the slightest twitch or swing. She was, quite literally, as still and as lifeless as a chunk of rock.

And then, Nightfury pinged our mental connection. The good boy found the Ice Dragon and it was still alive, but barely. The large thing was still trying to drag itself through the ice, crawling away to safety. Its wings were tattered and broken, and all of its limbs were in varying states of fucking broken. That it could move its bulk at all was a testament to its willpower. But, I had other plans. Little-Cloud needed her own mount and I had just the right idea.

After all, no one ever said [True Resurrection] didn't work on dragons, right?

AN: Chapter 36 is out on (Pat)reon!