Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos-Chapter 96 - - Negotiations with Free Folk (III)

"It really is a strange world, one day the boy was a bastard and the next, he was a prince riding a dragon." Jeor Mormont in front of Aenar Targaryen, formerly known as Jon Snow.

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The closer he got to the Wall, the more Aenar could feel the cold intensifying. The temperature was significantly colder than the last time he was at the Wall.

At the same time, Aenar could see things he couldn't see before, especially the war between the two gods above Westeros. In his eyes, the colors blue and red collided violently in the sky, like two different gigantic seas crashing into each other.

R'hllor and Great Other.

Honestly, as the Avatar of the Omnipotent and Omniscient God, the fact that R'hllor couldn't kill this God meant many things, showing that Great Other was the Avatar of a God of great power, just like the Omnipotent and Omniscient God.

For someone who has read cosmic horror, Aenar just hoped it wasn't an Outer God. He already had to deal with the future Gods of Chaos, he didn't want to have to deal with another Pantheon of Gods full of madness and insanity.

However, another thing that caught Aenar's attention was the Wall. To others, the Wall looked like a gigantic wall of ice and snow, but to Aenar's eyes, in addition to the structure itself, a white force field acted as a long curtain of light, going from the highest point of the Wall and up as far as his vision could no longer reach.

Aenar saw that this was the reason why Silverwing hadn't crossed the Wall during Queen Alyssane I's visit to the North. It was a barrier that prevented magical beings from leaving the Far North. Although dragons could cross it, they would probably feel very uncomfortable.

Under the snow that covered the Wall, Aenar also discovered hundreds of thousands of runes intricately carved into the seemingly eternal ice, runes that, strangely enough, drew power from a dimension he was getting to know very well - the Immaterium Dimension.

How exactly the Runes of the First Men were doing this, Aenar had a certain idea, especially when he noticed the Weirwoods scattered all over the North.

It was a brilliant idea to use trees that had an affinity to connect with the Warp as continuous batteries to power the Wall's runes. Although all the energy that came out of the Warp and was carried by the Weirwood was insignificant, even tiny, Aenar had to admire the First Men's boldness.

What if the Weirwood mutated as a result of the Warp's energy? That was the concern that was worrying him enormously. The more Aenar immersed himself in this dimension of seemingly infinite energy, the more he realized the terror that resided there was totally uncontrollable. He felt the gestation of entities beyond human comprehension, chaotic, insane, problematic beings.

Gods of Chaos.

Although they were still in gestation, the birth of the Chaos Gods was inevitable. Humanity was still in its infancy, but when its population reached a critical number, the Chaos Gods would be born. And then, Aenar knew, the second true Holy War would begin.

True horror would descend upon the Known Universe.

To face this conflict that would cover the entire universe, against races much older than humanity and even than the Chaos Gods, Aenar saw only one way out: to unify the planet. Only through this absolute unity could humanity achieve a level of cohesion never before seen. Only united, focused on a single purpose, would they have a chance of winning.

-

Castle Black

Aemon was feeding the crows when he heard a guttural sound in the distance, accompanied by noises that resembled the flapping of a crow's wings, but infinitely louder, more powerful and more imposing.

A smile appeared on the flabby lips of Maekar I Targaryen's son. He knew that his great-nephew had returned to Castle Black. And this time, riding Caraxes.

He fully understood the implications of Aenar's brazen actions. The prince no longer cared to be seen. War was drawing ever closer and, with it, the deaths of tens of thousands of people. However, he was confident that Aenar would be a great king, even if he was the cause of the deaths of tens of thousands of lives.

It wasn't just Aemon who heard the dragon's arrival. The entire Night's Watch looked up and, in the distance, saw the gigantic crimson dragon flying through the gray skies, with snow falling all around it. The creature's vibrant color contrasted absurdly with the gray sky, making it impossible to ignore that winged hill flying above them.

Jeor Mormont, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, watched the beast through the window and let out a helpless sigh.

"I just wanted to spend my last days in silence and peace... But here I am, embroiled in another war." Muttering to himself, he picked up his Valyrian steel sword, Long Claw, and left his office with a cold, determined look on his face.

Outside Castle Black, Aenar felt Caraxes land with a thud in the slightly deeper snow. Unbuckling the belt that held him and Leda in the saddle, he slid down the dragon's wing until his feet touched the ground. He looked at Castle Black and took a deep breath, while the woman next to him did the same, sliding down the wing lightly.

Leda then looked up at Castle Black and frowned, disappointed by the sight in front of her. The fortress was nothing like the stories she had read when she was young. As well as being in a terrible state, it was now nothing more than a haven for thieves, murderers and rapists.

Thousands of years ago, the Night's Watch was much more than that. Many second and third sons of nobles, trained all their lives, chose to serve in that sacred order of watchmen, protecting the Seven Kingdoms from the threats coming from the other side of the Wall.

Nowadays, Castle Black couldn't even be considered an elite force in Westeros.

"Let's go." Still wearing his riding gloves, Aenar commented, walking towards the gates with slow steps.

When he realized that the gates weren't being opened, he let out a heavy sigh and raised his voice:

"Open the gates or I will reduce this place to ashes. You will be nothing but fertilizer for the soil, nourishing the new life with your own."

Jeor recognized the familiar voice and, for a brief moment, thought of the Bastard of Winterfell. The voices were almost identical.

Casting his doubts aside, the Lord Commander gave the order to his men:

"Open the gates."

The truth was that he had no choice. The dragon outside could turn Castle Black into ashes in a matter of minutes. To save what was left of the Night's Watch, Jeor made the most pragmatic decision.

At the same time, he couldn't help wondering: why was the famous Prince Aenar in the North?

And even more so, what did he want at the Wall?

However, as soon as the gates opened, Jeor Mormont was speechless as he stared at the young man before him. His face, his posture, his gaze... It was impossible not to recognize him.

"Jon Snow?" he asked in disbelief, his voice laden with confusion.

But the young man only smiled serenely and corrected him:

"Aenar Targaryen, First of Your Name."

Aenar stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the Lord Commander. "Jon Snow was the name my uncle gave me to hide my true identity."

Silence fell over the courtyard of Castle Black.

Jeor remained motionless for a moment, processing those words and gradually realizing their weight. "Lord Stark really is a cunning man..." He muttered, letting out a helpless sigh.

Who would have thought that Eddard Stark's bastard was actually the rightful heir to the Iron Throne?

If someone had told him this story before, he would have laughed. But now... faced with the imposing crimson dragon that could cover the sky with its wings and the young prince's unwavering gaze, Jeor could only accept the reality being placed in front of him.

"What is your purpose in the Night's Watch, Your Grace?" He asked, finally regaining control of his emotions. "Surely there are more important places for you to be."

Yes, he could imagine that Aenar should be seeking alliances right now and not at the Wall.

Aenar gave him a sharp look before replying simply:

"We'll talk more in private, Lord Commander."

Without waiting for an answer, he advanced towards the castle.

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Leda followed close behind, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. Her gray eyes rested for a moment on the Valyrian steel blade attached to the waist of the former Lord of the Bear Islands.

She didn't underestimate Jeor Mormont. Old though he was, he was an experienced warrior. If the man had been in his prime, he would have been a troublesome opponent. Of course, that was before the Blood Ceremony.

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