There was something oddly freeing about the world here. No stress of a career, no nine-to-five jobs of solving over for the profits of others, no out hunting for jobs and sacrificing passion for money. There was a sort of freedom here that I relished.

Then again, the freedom may have been because I was the son of the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of The North. Bastar that I was, I had privileges that the common people did not. They were probably struggling to make ends meet and looking for work to feed their families. No, not probably, they were definitely doing so.

And now I felt like an ass for enjoying my privilege. Oh well, it is what it is.

Two years had gone by in a flash since I'd first woken up in Jon Snow's body, two years where the most I did was train with soldiers in training. It was a fun experience, especially considering how training with them increased my experience.

Jon Snow

Lvl: 5

Class: Swordsman in Training

Health: 550 Mana: 500

STR: 9 DEX: 9

CON: 9 INT: 6

CHA: 6 END: 8

LCK: 6

Skills:

Sanctimancy (E)

Pyromancy (E)

Swordsmanship (C)

Archery (D)

That was where it all just stopped.

The training did not yield enough experience anymore. Not even sparring with Robb gave me much. I had simply outgrown them and I knew the only way to move forward was to challenge the soldiers who were deemed soldiers and not those in training.

The only issue was that Ser Rodrik would not allow it.

"You are still a child, not yet ready to spar soldiers or wield a true blade," the man said when I asked.

I thought he might have said that because of my status as a bastard, as most people here were biased against me slightly for it. They thought I didn't notice, but I did. But speaking up was unnecessary since it didn't bite me in the ass yet. But that was not the case for Ser Rodrik, who'd said the same to Robb when he asked. The man did not think we were ready, did not think I was ready yet.

But to be fair, I wasn't sure if I was ready or not either. My Swordsmanship was at a C, I wasn't sure if that would be enough to fight soldiers yet.

So instead I focused on other things, like upgrading my skills. I had no luck with my Sanctimancy and Pyromancy skills, both stuck at E no matter how much I trained with them. I had a decent grasp of healing and how to summon fire, but that wasn't enough for a grade upgrade. My skills in Archery on the other hand had started at E and gone up to D. I didn't know how but I was certain that it was close to upgrading.

-x-

The arrow hit the outer ring closest to the bullseye with a thud.

Archery skill Upgraded!

D - C

I smirked to myself as I lowered the bow. I knew it was close to upgrading.

My eyes drifted to Robb beside me, who was struggling to hit the target board, let alone the bullseye. The boy was skilled with a sword. Not as skilled as me of course, but skilled nonetheless. But Archery was not his strongest skill.

"You're putting too much strain on your arms," I told him gently. "Relax, you need to feel as if you're throwing something, not shooting an arrow. Let the bow be an extension of your arm."

Robb muttered something I did not quite catch, but he breathed in deeply before exhaling. He took aim again, this time the bow not shaking as badly, and let loose. The arrow hit the second ring from the Bullseye.

Robb whooped in joy as his arrow finally hit closer to the bullseye while I smiled. Unlike me who was a man in a boy's body, Robb was an actual boy, his happiness as boyish as it could get.

CHA: 6 - 7

I blinked to hide my surprise. I already figured out that my Charisma stat only went up when I communicated with others, but one whole point just for that? Maybe I should help around more to get it up.

"Jon! Let's go swimming!" Robb stated excitedly.

"But, what about training?" I asked, brows furrowing in confusion.

"I hit the target! It's celebration time!"

I couldn't help but laugh at Robb's enthusiasm. As much as I wanted to say no to the boy, I just couldn't with how he looked at me. Children were going to be a weakness I carried from one life to the other.

"Alright," I said with a nod.

Grinning even wider Robb grabbed my hand and yanked me along. But we were not going to the usual swimming place that was the river right close to the castle, the site where we were taught how to swim. Instead, Robb was pulling me along to the Godswood.

"I think we're ready for the black pool" Robb stated when I asked why we were going to the Godswood.

The black pool was a pool of water that was under the heart tree. I'd never been there before, only read about it in my previous life.

The two of us passed through the gates of the Godswood and I immediately felt a rush of strength and vitality course through me, similar to the Sept but more violent and less nurturing.

The Godswood of Winterfell had a multitude of trees that created a dense canopy over old, packed earth and humus and moss. We ran over the footpath of cracked stones, my eyes taking in the various trees around us. We reached the center of the grove sooner than I'd expected, stopping right before an ancient weirwood tree with a carved melancholic face.

Robb was stripping down right away, but I couldn't help but stare at the tree. I approached it slowly and reached out to gently caress the carved face.

Connection with The Weirwood Grove established

You have learned the Skill 'Warging'

I stared at the words in shock. It shouldn't be shocking to me, considering how all the Stark children were Wargs, dormant or otherwise. But Jon to my memory had not awakened this ability, like I had by simply touching the Weirwood Tree. And what was this about a connection with the Weirwood Grove?

I touched the word 'Warging' and more writing appeared.

Warging

A mystical ability that allows the user to project their consciousness into animals, controlling their bodies and sensing the world through their eyes. Skilled wargs can bond with specific creatures, gaining enhanced senses, stealth, and combat awareness. With practice, a warg can extend its reach to multiple animals or even glimpse through their eyes over great distances. Prolonged use strengthens the connection but risks blurring the line between human and beast. In death, a warg's spirit may live on through their bonded creature, granting a form of immortality at the cost of their humanity.

"Jon!"

I was startled at the sudden call of my name. The words vanished and I turned to see Robb floating in the black pool.

"Come on!"

I shook my head, stripping down and joining the boy in the pool.

We played in the water for a while until both of us climbed out and began to dress again.

"Do you think father's going to be alright? Robb asked, his voice suddenly quiet and nervous. Very much unlike the usual Robb Stark.

"He will be," I said with the utmost confidence. "This is not father's first rebellion. And he has the King on his side. The Iron Island will stand no chance and Father will return victorious."

I was certain of it because I knew that was exactly what was going to happen in the Greyjoy Rebellion.

Robb smiled at me, the nerves in his eyes and the tension in his body vanishing. He went back to properly dressing himself, while I looked back at the Weirwood Tree and frowned at its melancholic face.

-x-

Night had thrown Winterfell Castle into darkness, the feebly flickering torches the only sources of light. Every other moonless night when the clouds covered the skies at night, the winds grew colder and harsher. The soldiers huddled under their cloaks and stuck as close to their flames as they could. Some reasoned that it was a sign of winter coming, while others just called it something of a charm of the North, the words 'charm' used sarcastically.

Both could be true.

Or neither could be true and there was some other reason for this.

Whatever it was, it didn't stop me from putting on the thickest and blackest of my cloaks and sneaking out of my chambers. I was not training my magical skills tonight, too cold to venture down to the crypts for practice. But not cold enough for my curiosity to not get the better of me.

I tiptoed around the people, sticking to the shadows and avoiding every guard in my path. Reaching the gates to the Godswood I looked around one last time before rushing in, snow crunching under my boots. Immediately I conjured a ball of fire in my hands to battle the darkness around me. This was the most I could do now without losing control of the flames, a ball of fire to light my path.

The cracked stone footpath was slippery under my boots, and I was careful to not slip on it. I followed it to the Weirwood Tree, stopping right before it and staring with a frown.

"Alright… I know you can see me Brynden Rivers" I whispered loudly. "You did something to awaken my Warging powers, didn't you?

There was no answer, only the silence of the Godswood.

I reached out to touch the Weirwood tree with my other hand. Nothing happened, no words popped up or anything like that. That made me frown. How could I awaken a skill simply by touching a tree without any other form of intervention? It had to be Brynden Rivers, no other person or thing could be capable of it.

He was not going to answer me, not tonight at least. But I'll make him talk one way or the other. But not tonight. Tonight it was too cold and even the flame in my hand was not enough to give me the warmth I needed.

I stepped back and turned to walk away.

The leaves of the tree shuffled and something fell behind me with a soft crunch of the snow.

I slowly turned around, the fireball in my hand illuminating the thing that was right behind me. I jumped back, the flames guttering out and plunging me into darkness. I summoned it again and found the thing in my face, my visage reflected in its large gold and green eyes.

"Who are you" I hissed, curling my hand into a fist. I did not bring a weapon because I did not expect to find someone here and ever needing it behind the safety of the Castle's walls. But I could throw a punch if necessary.

It was not.

The thing leaned back, its nut-brown skin, dappled with pale spots like a deer illuminated in the light of the fireball.

I realized with a jolt that I was staring at a Child of the Forest. Though they were only a child in name. No doubt they all were older than Ned Stark. Old Nan even!

"You were calling out Brynden Rivers," the Child said in a not-so-child-like voice. "How do you know of him?"

Shit.

I did not think before calling him out like that.

"A dream" I blurted out without a second thought. That would probably be the only sensible answer.

The Child's face did not change, if anything it seemed to harden.

"Brynden Rivers is dead. He died this morning" the Child declared bluntly.

Right around when I unlocked my Warging ability…