77 AC
The Wall
As we stepped further into the confines of Castle Black, the sheer austerity of the place was immediately apparent. The buildings were functional and built for resilience, a stark contrast to the grandeur of Winterfell or the relative comforts of King's Landing. We were led towards a large, dimly lit hall, the air thick with the scent of woodsmoke and something vaguely metallic.
At the entrance to the hall, Lord Commander Domeric Snow presented me with a simple offering: a piece of rough-hewn bread and a dish of coarse salt. I accepted the symbolic gesture, partaking in the ancient tradition of guest-right.
The brothers of the Night's Watch then began to move with a quiet efficiency, bringing forth platters and bowls laden with food. The fare was simple and hearty – thick stews of meat and root vegetables, rough bread, and pitchers of what smelled like strong, dark ale. It was a meal clearly designed to sustain men through long hours of hard labor in a harsh climate. The atmosphere in the hall was subdued but not unwelcoming, a sense of shared purpose and quiet camaraderie among the black-clad brothers as they went about their duties.
Lord Commander Domeric Snow's weathered face grew grim, his gaze hardening as he considered my question. "Your Grace," he replied, his voice carrying a note of weary vigilance, "while the great mass of free folk have indeed come south and pledged their allegiance, the threat beyond the Wall has not entirely vanished. The wild lands are vast and hold many dangers."
He continued, his eyes seeming to pierce through the thick stone walls and gaze into the frozen wilderness beyond. "There are still those who cling to their old ways, those who refuse to kneel. Amongst them are savage tribes, raiders, and yes... even cannibals, who remain entrenched beyond the Wall. They are fewer in number than the great hordes we once faced, but their cruelty and desperation make them no less dangerous."
"These remnants still test our defenses," Lord Commander Snow explained, his tone grave. "They launch smaller raids, probing for weaknesses, seeking to steal supplies or to inflict harm. They are like wounded beasts, lashing out in their desperation. We remain ever vigilant, for even a small incursion can bring death and destruction to the lands south of the Wall."
I nodded slowly, absorbing the grim reality that even with the influx of kneeling free folk, the dangers beyond the Wall had not entirely abated. The image of desperate cannibals lurking in the frozen wastes sent a shiver down my spine. After a moment of contemplation, I shifted my focus to the men who stood as the first line of defense against these threats.
"Lord Commander," I then inquired, my gaze sweeping over the black-clad brothers who moved with quiet purpose throughout the castle, "what are the current numbers of the Night's Watch? How many men stand guard upon the Wall?"
A shadow of what might have been sadness flickered across Lord Commander Snow's face. "Your Grace," he replied, his voice a low rumble, "our numbers, though tested by time and circumstance, still stand strong. We currently have roughly ten thousand brothers sworn to the Night's Watch."
He continued, gesturing around the courtyard and towards the various structures of Castle Black. "These men perform a multitude of tasks, not just manning the Wall itself. We have rangers who patrol the lands on either side, seeking out threats and keeping watch. We have builders who maintain the Wall and our fortifications. We have stewards who manage our supplies and provisions. And we have those who serve in various support roles, ensuring the smooth functioning of Castle Black and the other castles along the Wall."
I nodded slowly, absorbing the information about the Night's Watch's numbers. Ten thousand men, though a significant force, still seemed a small shield against the vast and unknown dangers that lay beyond the Wall. A sense of the immense responsibility these men carried settled upon me.
"Lord Commander," I said, turning my attention to our surroundings, "I understand the importance of vigilance and defense. But what of knowledge and learning here at the Wall? Do you maintain a library, similar to the one I saw at Winterfell?"
A flicker of something akin to pride crossed Lord Commander Snow's stern features. "Indeed, Your Grace," he replied. "Knowledge is a weapon in its own right, especially when facing the unknown. We maintain a library here at Castle Black, and while perhaps not as extensive as the one at Winterfell, it is nonetheless a vital resource for our brothers."
He then led us through a heavy, oaken door, and I stepped into a chamber that, to my surprise, was indeed as large and well-stocked as the library I had toured at Winterfell. Towering shelves lined the walls, filled with scrolls and bound books, their spines bearing titles in various languages, some familiar, others hinting at lands and lore far beyond the Seven Kingdoms. The air was still and quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling activity of the courtyard. Dust motes danced in the faint light filtering through narrow, arched windows, illuminating rows upon rows of accumulated knowledge. It was a testament to the enduring human need to record, to study, and to understand, even in this desolate and dangerous place.
"Lord Commander," I said, my gaze drawn upwards towards the seemingly insurmountable height of the Wall visible through one of the library's narrow windows, "would it be possible for us to ascend to the top? I would very much like to witness the view from such a vantage point, to truly grasp the scale of this incredible structure and the lands it guards."
Lord Commander Domeric Snow nodded, his expression impassive but not unkind. "Of course, Your Grace. Understanding the Wall is best done by experiencing its height." He then turned and gestured towards a sturdy-looking mechanism built into the stone wall. "This way. We have a lift system that will take you to the summit. It is more efficient than attempting the stairs, which are numerous and treacherous."
We followed Lord Commander Snow to the base of the lift, a large, enclosed platform made of reinforced wood and metal, suspended by thick ropes that disappeared into the heights above. A few brothers of the Night's Watch stood ready to operate the mechanism. With a series of cranks and levers, the platform began its slow ascent, the rough ice of the Wall gliding past us.
The journey upwards was surprisingly smooth, though the sheer drop below was a constant reminder of the immense height. As we rose, the vastness of the lands to the south stretched out before us like a detailed map, the forests and plains receding into the distance.
Finally, with a gentle jolt, the lift reached the summit. Stepping out onto the top of the Wall was an experience that stole my breath away. The wind howled fiercely, whipping at our cloaks, carrying the raw, untamed scent of the far north.
The view was indeed breathtaking. To the south, the familiar lands of the North stretched out in a tapestry of forests, rivers, and snow-dusted plains. But it was the view to the north that held the most profound impact. A seemingly endless expanse of white and grey stretched out before us, an alien landscape of frozen forests and snow-covered wastes that seemed to swallow the horizon. It was a land of stark beauty and palpable danger, a silent testament to the ancient threats that the Wall was built to contain. The sheer scale of it all, the immensity of the Wall beneath our feet and the wild unknown stretching out before us, was a humbling and unforgettable sight.
Standing atop the Wall, with the wind whipping around us and the vast expanse of the North stretching out in either direction, an instinctual urge took hold of me. Closing my eyes for a moment, I focused my thoughts, reaching out through the bond I shared with Silverwing. It was a familiar connection, a silent thread that spanned great distances. I poured my will into the call, a mental beacon drawing him towards my location.
The minutes stretched, the only sounds the howling wind and the distant cries of unseen birds. Then, a shadow appeared on the northern horizon, growing larger with impossible speed. The air grew colder, and a powerful gust of wind preceded his arrival. With a thunderous beat of his massive wings, Silverwing descended, landing gracefully on the broad expanse of the Wall's summit, his silver scales shimmering in the pale sunlight. His intelligent golden eyes met mine, a silent greeting passing between us. The sheer size of him, even against the backdrop of the colossal Wall, was awe-inspiring. The brothers of the Night's Watch, who had accompanied us to the top, stared in stunned silence at the magnificent creature that had just arrived.
As Silverwing settled onto the icy surface of the Wall, I moved towards his massive flank, preparing to mount him. His scales felt cool beneath my touch. Ryam Redwyne, ever vigilant, stepped forward, his brow furrowed with concern.
"Your Grace," he said, his voice tight with apprehension, "are you certain this is wise? The winds up here are treacherous, and the Wall offers little footing for even a dragon."
I paused, my hand resting on Silverwing's neck, and turned to Ryam, a confident smile gracing my lips. "Ser Ryam," I said, my voice carrying over the howling wind, "as long as my dragon is with me, nothing can happen. He is stronger than any storm and more sure-footed than any mountain. Have faith." With that, I swung myself onto Silverwing's back, settling comfortably against his warm scales. His powerful muscles tensed beneath me, ready for flight. The vast expanse of the North lay before us, waiting to be explored.
"Sōvēs!" I commanded Silverwing, the Valyrian word for "fly" resonating in the crisp air. With a powerful surge, he launched himself from the summit of the Wall, his massive wings beating in a rhythmic cadence that pushed us upwards. The wind roared past us as we ascended, the Wall shrinking beneath us, becoming a jagged white line against the vast landscape.
A sense of exhilaration filled me as we soared above the icy barrier, the wild lands stretching out before us, an uncharted expanse of snow and shadow. "Ñuha valonqar!" I urged him, "My dragon, onward! Beyond the Wall!"
But instead of continuing north, Silverwing banked sharply, his powerful wings carrying us south, away from the Wall. He circled for a while above the lands we had just traversed, his golden eyes scanning the forests and plains below, as if drawn by some unseen force. I could feel a subtle resistance in our bond, a reluctance I couldn't quite decipher.
After a few wide circles, I gave him the command again, my voice firm. "Ērī!" Rise! Fly beyond the Wall, Silverwing!" He responded to my urging, his powerful wings propelling us northwards once more. We flew towards the Wall, its immense height looming before us again. But as we reached the icy precipice, instead of soaring over it, Silverwing hesitated. He flew alongside the Wall for a stretch, a low rumble emanating from his chest, a sound that felt like a deep unease. Then, defying my command once more, he banked sharply again, turning back south, away from the mysteries that lay beyond. His reluctance was palpable, a strong, instinctual resistance that I could not ignore.
Frustration began to simmer within me. Twice I had commanded Silverwing to fly beyond the Wall, and twice he had refused, his powerful will resisting mine. With a sigh, I relented. "Hāedar!" I commanded, "Down!"
Responding instantly to the Valyrian word for "descend," Silverwing folded his massive wings, the air rushing past us as we plummeted towards the ground. With a final, powerful beat of his wings, he slowed our descent, landing with surprising gentleness on the snow-covered ground near the foot of the Wall. The sheer immensity of the icy barrier loomed above us, a silent, unyielding sentinel. Silverwing shifted beneath me, a low, almost mournful rumble emanating from his chest. His golden eyes flickered towards the Wall, then back to me, a sense of unease radiating through our bond. His disobedience was perplexing, a clear and deliberate refusal that I couldn't yet understand.
A few moments of tense silence passed, the only sound the whisper of the wind against the Wall's icy face and Silverwing's occasional low growl. Soon, I saw figures approaching across the snow-covered ground. It was Ryam, his face etched with worry, my ladies-in-waiting, Darlla and Rosmund, their expressions mirroring his concern, and Artor Stark with his wife, their Northern stoicism momentarily broken by apprehension. Lord Commander Domeric Snow and First Ranger Hother Umber followed closely behind, their black cloaks billowing in the wind.
Ryam was the first to reach us, his hand instinctively reaching out towards me. "Your Grace! What happened? We saw Silverwing descend so suddenly. Are you alright?" His eyes then flickered to the massive dragon, a silent question in their depths.
Darlla and Rosmund hovered nearby, their voices a worried chorus. "Are you hurt, Your Grace?" "Did something frighten Silverwing?"
Lord Commander Snow, his weathered face creased with concern, echoed Artor's question. "Your Grace, did you encounter something beyond the Wall? Some threat that caused your dragon to return?"
I took a deep breath, trying to make sense of Silverwing's unusual behavior. "No," I replied, my voice thoughtful. "There was no visible threat. I commanded Silverwing to fly beyond the Wall, but he... he refused. He obeyed my command to take flight, but when I urged him north, he veered south. I tried again from the top, and he flew towards the Wall, but then turned back again, refusing to go over." I looked at Silverwing, who was now resting his massive head on the snow, his golden eyes fixed on the Wall with an unreadable intensity. "He simply would not go beyond it."
A flurry of concerned questions and speculative theories followed my explanation. Ryam voiced his relief that we were unharmed, while Darlla and Rosmund continued to express their bewilderment at Silverwing's unusual disobedience. Artor and his wife exchanged thoughtful glances, their Northern reserve hinting at a deeper understanding of the ancient boundary before us. Lord Commander Snow and Hother Umber listened intently, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and perhaps a touch of unease. They spoke of the Wall's ancient magic and the strange occurrences that sometimes transpired near it, though none could offer a definitive explanation for Silverwing's behavior.
After a while, the practicalities of the day took precedence. The midday meal, brought from Castle Black by a group of black brothers, was a simple but sustaining affair eaten in the shadow of the Wall. The sheer scale of the icy barrier served as a constant backdrop to our conversation, a silent reminder of the mysteries it held and the questions Silverwing's actions had raised.
With the meal concluded and the sun beginning its slow descent in the Northern sky, Artor Stark announced that it was time to begin our return journey to Winterfell. The train that had brought us to the Wall would soon be making its southward run. We bid farewell to Lord Commander Snow and First Ranger Umber, expressing our gratitude for their hospitality and the insights they had shared into the life and duty of the Night's Watch. The image of the Wall, and the perplexing behavior of my dragon, remained vivid in my mind as we made our way back to the small station, ready to board the train that would carry us south.