《The Wolf of The North》


 Waking Up

    ''Where am I?''


    He looked around and found himself in a room with stone walls. He was on a wooden bed under a fur blanket. He could see snow falling outside the window.


    ''Wait a minute. What the hell? Why is it snowing? This isn''t my room! What''s going on!?''


    John Scott was an ordinary sophomore high school student from New York. He lived at the orphanage after his parents died in a car accident when he was 5. Other than that, he lived a pretty uneventful life. He remembered sleeping in his bed with the covers off due to the heat in the room. It was early August and there was no air conditioning, so he felt a bit clammy in his room. It didn''t help that they were in the middle of a heat wave, with temperatures reaching 35 degrees celsius. So where was the snow coming from?


    And he was sure that the walls in his room were not made out of solid stone, with candle holders on the walls. His bed wasn''t made out of wood, and the orphanage definitely wouldn''t have been able to afford such high quality animal furs.


    "What on Ear- What happened to my voice! Huh? Why am I so small!?"


    As he started speaking to himself, he noticed that his voice had suddenly become more childish and high pitched. As he looked at the rest of his body, he saw a body that was much smaller than he remembered. He was wearing a plain white tunic with strings at the top that seemed to function the same way buttons would on a polo shirt and loose white trousers.


    None of what he was seeing pointed to anything good, so John started to panic a little.


    ''Calm down, John. Calm down. Let''s first figure out the situation before losing losing your shit.


    First of all, I''m in a much younger body. Given the surroundings, this was never a part of my memories, meaning I''m in a different person''s body. Reincarnation? Transmigration?


    Given the stone walls and candles, I''m in a medieval castle of sorts. The technological level doesn''t seem that advanced, given that candles are being used to light up the room at night.


    This all seems very interesting.''


    His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.


    "Come in." he said.


    A lady walked. She wore simple clothes and had a little bit of dirt on the hem of her skirt. She bowed slightly to John before speaking.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "M''lord, your father is calling you for breakfast." She said.


    "I understand. I''ll be on my way." He said.


    She the bowed before quickly leaving. John got out of his bed and changed into a nicer looking blue tunic and trousers with a belt at his waist. Although the clothing was unfamiliar to him, he seemed to know how to put them on already. After putting on a pair of boots he found by his bed, he left the room and mad his way outside by following the stairs and corridors.


    He found himself in a courtyard covered in light snow. There were horses being tended to on the side and people walking through looking like they had somewhere to go. They all seemed to be wearing plain clothing that looked like something out of medieval Europe.


    "Hurry up, Torrhen. Yer family''s waiting for you in the great hall."


    He turned around to find man behind him wearing leather armor. He had some fat on his stomach and a weirdly shaped beard that was shave at his chin but long enough for the beard to be tied below it.


    ''So my name is Torrhen. Why does that sound familiar?''


    "I''m sorry, but I seem to have forgotten a few things. Could you tell me where the main hall is." Technically, it couldn''t be said to be a lie to say he had forgotten a few things if he has no memory of his current life at all until he woke up.


    "Huh, what are you talking about, boy?" He scratched his head in confusion.


    "I forgot a lot of things when I woke up this morning. I don''t understand it either." He put on a pained expression to emphasize the seriousness of the matter.


    "Hmm, that''s strange. I guess we''ll have to talk to your father about that. For now, just go straight and turn left. Kinda hard to miss it."


    "Thanks!" John, who''s now Torrhen, ran in the direction the man pointed to. He came across a comparatively larger building of grey with big doors at the front. There were white banners streaking down with a grey wolf on it.


    ''Hold up. This all seems too familiar. But it can''t be, right? That just wouldn''t make any sense!''


    He opened the doors and walked inside. Before him was a large hall with a long table. People sat along it. In the middle was a man with a long face and long, dark hair. Beside him on one side sat a woman with vibrant copper hair, who seemed to be feeding a young child. On his other side, sat a young boy with dark reddish hair who seemed to be wolfing down his food. Next to him was a young girl with hair just as vibrant as the woman at the table and was delicately eating her food. There were also tow children who seemed to be having fun as they laughed about something.


    It was when he looked behind the table that he stopped in his tracked. He felt like he had been doused in cold water.


    What he saw was a picture of a wolf on a field. To be specific, a grey wolf on a green field, with a white sky above it.


    This picture, the wolf in particular, was only significant in one place from his memories. He had been suspicious before, but now he was sure.


    He was in Winterfell.


    ''Oh God, what am I doing here? Is this even real? I''m in Westeros? I don''t want to be here! What the heck is going on?!''


    Then he thought back to what had happened so far that morning.


    ''That woman called me m''lord right? That would mean I''m a noble. Given that my father was calling me for breakfast in the Great Keep, wouldn''t that mean...


    I''m a Stark of Winterfell?''


    When he got to this point, the world started spinning and he felt his head hit the floor as he blacked out.

 If Only I Were A Targaryen

    John found himself in an open field extending as far as the eye could see. He watched trees grow out of the ground all around him and a large wolf charging towards him as snow began to fall.


    The wolf stopped inches before John''s face and just stared down at him. It had majestic gold eyes and luscious silver fur. It stood at about 2 meters in height and looked to be around 8-9 meters in length.


    John was shaking just from looking at such a beast. He didn''t know why it was here, but it couldn''t mean anything good.


    "Speak. You seem to have questions on your mind." John was flabbergasted. Never did he expect the wolf to start talking.


    "Um, w-who are you?" He asked timidly.


    "I am you" It replied.


    "How could you be me? I''m a human and you''re a wolf." It sneered at him, as if he had just said something stupid.


    It suddenly seemed to adopt a solemn expression as it bowed slightly.


    "Declare your name to me." It said.


    "My name is Joh-no, my name is Torrhen of the House Stark."


    "Yes. We are Torrhen of the House Stark. Blessed be our name! Blessed be our lineage! Long shall we reign!" The wolf suddenly started flying towards the sky as it grew larger and larger. It opened it''s maw and roared, shaking the world and destroying everything around it.


    John just stood there with the turbulent winds blowing in his face. He looked up, feeling both fear and awe towards the wolf above him.


    From the skies, it turned its head to him, looking down from above. It had an aura of dominance and reverence about it.


    "Go forth, Torrhen. We shall meet again."


    --------------------


    He woke up in bed, surrounded by people. His vision was still blurry and he couldn''t hear things properly. All he could see was the outline of their bodies; everything else was just a blur.


    It took him a few minutes to get his bearings and sit up, after which he saw the man and woman he saw in the Great Hall. At this point, he knew they were his parents, Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Tully. Lady Catelyn was seated on a chair by his bed and was holding his hand firmly. There was an aging man next to them in plain clothes with a chain around his neck who he assumed to be Maester Luwin. His siblings were surrounding him an all sides of the bed.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    "Are you alright, son?" Lady Catelyn looked at him and smiled. He could see the worry in her eyes.


    "Yes, mother. I feel fine."


    "Ser Rodrik told me you felt like you had forgotten a few things?" Lord Eddard was looking at him with his eyebrows furrowed.


    "Hehe, not anymore." John smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck.


    He then spent the next ten to fifteen minutes trying to calm everyone down and convince them that there was nothing wrong with him and that he was perfectly fine. When everyone left, he lied down and sighed.


    ''I don''t know how much time I have before the plot begins. Given that Rickon is already born by now, there are about three to six years left until Jon Arryn dies and Robert Baratheon comes to Winterfell.


    ''I have to make sure that I cement father''s trust in me within three years so that he would be willing to listen to my input on important matters and tell me things that would otherwise be kept secret. He''ll otherwise end up killing us all.''


    John knew the events that were to come, and knew that House Stark fell out with the Lannisters when Ned Stark confronted Queen Cersei and said that he knew the royal children were bastards fathered by Jaime. No matter what happened, he knew he must prevent this at all costs, or else everything would begin to go downhill for House Stark.


    What vexed him was that he didn''t know if the current progression of events would be that of the books or the TV show. They both had very major differences, but for all their differences, he hoped it followed the books instead. In the TV show, House Stark is pretty much extinct, with nothing left but two girls and a cripple, with everyone else dying.


    He felt a stabbing pain in his head. It felt like a burning hot stake was thrust inside and was being burned with flames from Hell. His eyes became red from having to endure the pain and his grit his teeth, unwilling to scream out and alert everyone. There would be too many questions otherwise.


    Memories started flooding into his brain rapidly, years of events passing by in the blink of an eye.


    He realized that they were his memories.


    He lay on his bed sweating from head to toe, blood leaking out from his nose and his veins threatening to burst through the skin of his forehead. He was out of breath and had trouble feeling his limbs momentarily. He used a handkerchief by the bed to wife the blood away and stared up at the ceiling, going through his newfound memories.


    His name was Torrhen Stark of Winterfell, twin brother of Robb Stark. He was currently eleven years old. Thus far, he had shown a dislike to pretty much everything: he rarely trained in sword fighting or in archery, hated studying and would rather spend his days riding on horseback through empty fields.


    The common tongue spoke in Westeros seemed to be English, so there would be no difficulties there. The technological level seemed to be stuck in Medieval Europe, which was annoying. Balon''s Rebellion had been three years ago, so there were six years left until the main plot began.


    ''I can''t continue any of this. I must get serious and prepare for what is to come. I don''t want to die in any political schemes, nor do I want to die to the dead.


    ''There were roughly six or seven years from the start of the plot until the Army of the Dead came south of the Wall, which gives me twelve or thirteen years to get everyone prepared. For that, I''ll need to become an influential political figure and get everyone to bring their armies north. That''s going to be a very difficult goal to achieve.''


    He stared wistfully out of the window and clenched his fist as he though of dragons roaming freely through the sky, burning down armies and inspiring both fear and greatness.


    ''If only I were a Targaryen!''

 Change In Behavior

    Due feeling fatigued and light-headed after the ordeal he had just gone through, Torrhen stayed in bed for the rest of the day. Maester Luwin would come in at time to ask how he was doing and would come with a maidservant at meal times to bring him his lunch and dinner, but no one else would come. Luwin said it was because he should rest and be given space until he fully recuperate.


    His condition carried on into the next day, and so Torrhen was left alone to his own thoughts. He began to compile in his head everything that he remembered from the Game of Thrones TV show and the book series to try plan out what was to come.


    ''Goddammit! If only I came here AFTER finishing the show and book series! Now there''s so much uncertainty! I have no idea what elements of each series would prove vital in the endgame!


    But it may not be exactly as the show and the books. My very existence is probably causing a butterfly effect and is changing the future events, however small the changed events may be. I cannot rely too much on my foreknowledge. I must adapt to this world.''''


    One thing that bothered Torrhen was that, until now, he had yet to see Jon Snow''s shadow at all. He knew Jon was avoiding him because he and everyone else still thought him to be Ned''s bastard, so he probably didn''t want to intrude on family matters and incur Catelyn''s ire.


    It was paramount that he got into contact with Jon Snow and improved relations with him. From his memories, he could recall that he always treated Jon coldly, as did Sansa, due to him being his father''s bastard. He thought that it was a blemish on his father''s reputation.


    Now that he had transmigrated to this world, he knew that Jon was no bastard, but instead was the truest heir to the Iron Throne. And with all the suspicion around his importance, heritage and role in prophecy, it would truly be stupid of him not to be on good terms with such a person.


    Another thing that he took note of was the subtle yet seemingly vital importance magic would have later on, but due to him not having any relations to anything of that sort as of now, he could only forget those thoughts and leave them at the back of his head for now.


    Another day passed and after three days of being bedridden, he was now healthy enough to leave the room he was in. He felt a sense of relief wash over him as he realized how stifled he felt in the room. He was used to being alone in a room for days at a time without leaving, but never had he been completely bored with nothing to do the entire time. It truly sapped him of his mental strength having to withstand the boredom.


    After he walked out of his room, the first place he went to was the courtyard. He could see Robb and Theon being trained by Ser Rodrik Cassel, who seemed to be shouting at them the entire time. It didn''t help that Robb and Theon would always trash-talk to each other in their spars.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "So you finally decided to show yourself, boy." Ser Rodrik came up behind him and put his hand on Torrhen''s shoulder. "I thought you''d be in the Godswood daydreaming like you normally do."


    "Ah, Ser Rodrik, I''ve decided that I need to change. I must learn the sword. Will you teach me?" This caused Ser Rodrik to look baffled. He looked at Torrhen as if he weren''t human and was an alien breed instead. He placed his hand on Torrhen''s forehead immediately.


    "Are you sure you''re alright, Torrhen?"


    "You haven''t answered the question yet, Ser Rodrik. Are you willing to teach me sword-fighting."


    He gave Torrhen a long and hard look in the eyes and saw the unyielding resolution in them. He noticed this and sighed.


    "We''ll begin tomorrow. I''ll need to speak with your father first."


    "Great!" Torrhen then decided to run away, leaving Ser Rodrik dazed. He had yet to grasp what had just happened. Robb and Theon had stopped sparring and saw Ser Rodrik staring blankly at nothing.


    "Is everything alright, Ser Rodrik?" Robb asked.


    "Yes, everything''s fine. But it seems the Gods have yet to forsake him."


    Meanwhile, Torrhen was running to the Library Tower and began to look through the books before coming across a book called ''History of the Northern Wolf'' about the history of House Stark. This book intrigued him, and so he put the book on the table in the center of the library and began to read.


    Unbeknownst to him, Maester Luwin had appeared behind him. Seeing that Torrhen was engrossed in his reading, he quietly pulled out a chair and read a book, occasionally looking up at Torrhen with a faint smile.


    It began to grow dark outside and Torrhen noticed the flicker of candlelight in the room. He looked up and saw Maester Luwin lighting candles and placing them on their holders on the wall. Maester Luwin turned around and smiled at him.


    "So it seems you finally decided to pick up a book, m''lord."


    "Yes, Maester Luwin. I feel that I need to change. I''ve wasted away too many years."


    Luwin gave a meaningful glance at the book I had open on the table.


    "I see you have an interest for your history. May I ask what it is that draws you to this book specifically compared to the others?"


    "It''s important for a man to know his roots. It''s important for a man to know his origins and learn of their family''s most trying and glorious times. It helps one to stay humble and aspire for better."


    "Oh? Do go on." Maester Luwin looked shocked after hearing Torrhen''s answer, and seemed eager to know what else he would say.


    "A man in power must be grounded by his humility. If one has power and grows too arrogant, he''ll be blinded by it and fail to clearly see what is happening around him. If he stays humble, he will be more likely to notice dangers around him. He needs a goal to work towards, or else growth in the territory would stagnate and the people would grow complacent, opening up flaws that other can take advantage of."


    "My lord, may I ask who told you of this?"


    "No one has. It''s a conclusion I have come to after reading through the history of House Stark."


    "I see. Meet me tomorrow in my study. It appears we must continue with your studies." After saying that, Maester Luwin walked out, Leaving Torrhen alone in the library.

 Societal Stagnation

    "So what you mean to say is that he''s changed for the better? As if he were a completely different person?"


    Eddard Stark sat at his desk in his study with maester Luwin standing before him, his facial expressions flickering in the candlelight.


    "Yes, my lord. But it seems that maybe the changes will be for the better. And perhaps he may be what you''re looking for."


    "Yes, I really hope it were so, or Gods save us all." Eddard turned to look at the bright moon in the sky and sighed.


    --------------------


    After that first day, Torrhen fell into a very vigorous routine of studies and swordsmanship.


    He would spend pretty much the entirety of his days reading, learning and training. Whenever he was taking a break, he could be seen playing with his siblings or daydreaming in the Godswood.


    One thing he learnt, though, was the sheer deficit in Westerosi civilization on all accounts.


    Records of human population on Westeros dated back thousands of years, yet there was still a feudal society in place. Technology had barely advanced, nothing knew was being taught or discovered at the Citadel and those who dared to reach out and discover new boundaries in science and wisdom were silenced one way or another.


    This situation reminded him of what maester Qyburn said on the TV show, about how the maesters study without learning and repeat their knowledge to those who come after without anything new being added.


    Torrhen was baffled by this, and surmised that there could only be two possibilities for the current technological and economical stagnation in Westeros.


    The first possibility was the lack of a spark. On Earth, society only emerged out of the feudal system and moved towards a more centralized government due to the discovery of gunpowder and its many uses, namely the cannon, which effectively forced those in power to leave the confines of their castles and move towards developing larger standing armies, which lead to boundless technological and economical advances.


    The second, and more likely, possibility would be that it has been manipulated to remain so by the actions of others, whether intentionally or unintentionally.


    There was no desire for innovation by the smallfolk and the lowborn; anything good or worthwhile that they made would eventually be taken from them by the lords who rule over them, thus making it a wasted endeavor. Those in power and those with wealth would never deign to try research something new either as they were too caught up in trying to better and raise their position in the kingdom and move their way up the feudal hierarchy. Those who could never bothered and those who needed to weren''t able to. Thus, society couldn''t advance.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    According to Torrhen, the only people or group that could have restricted society''s development in Westeros would be the Citadel themselves. They made themselves out to be the Saints of the realm, selflessly giving up women, siring children, wealth, power and even their own names. They all went to all corners of the realm, teaching and advising all the lords that rule over the kingdom.


    But their very rules has placed a kind of chokehold or Westeros'' advancement.


    All those who wished to join had to swear off pretty much everything other than knowledge and swear oaths of servitude to the people. Only after this were they allowed to become a novice at the Citadel. This meant that those with the resources to research further and actually fund breakthroughs in science would never get to learn there because they would be unwilling to give up everything else. Only bastards, commoners and sons with nothing to inherit would go there because they have nothing to lose or give up in.


    Novices could only become maesters when they have forged enough rings on their chain, with each chain indicating a maester''s level of mastery in a specific subject such as accounting or medicine. This led to a large amount of generalists and a very apparent lack in specialists. All the maesters were, as a result of this, jacks of all trades, but masters of none, each of them indoctrinated with only the existing pool of knowledge.


    Those who wished to branch out and find out or do new things were all suppressed by the Citadel in one way or another, albeit not on paper. In the TV show, it was made apparent that it was the Citadel who suppressed the Alchemist Guild and lead them to fall out of favor with House Targaryen due to their so-called ''jealousy'' and ''fear'' of wildfire.


    Torrhen lamented as he thought of the sheer advantages of wildfire for war, power and development. It was akin to nuclear energy as it couldn''t really be put out, only smothered or exhausted; as long as you something to burn, it would continue to burn. And yet, the Citadel did not seem to take note of this.


    As a result of all of these, the people were ignorant, the level of knowledge was stagnant, civilization had halted and society had not progressed.


    This made things more annoying for Torrhen, as he full well knew that the coming catastrophe could be much more easily dealt with if not for these issues. He could do nothing about that for the moment and just consistently trained and studied.


    "It seems that House Stark must increase its power and influence. Bu why do we have to be so poor?"


    Another thing that bothered him was how poor house Stark was. To the smallfolk, House Stark could be drowning in gold for all they cared, but they really were quite poor given their standing and the land they rule over.


    The Starks had no highly profitable source of income. The people were poor, the land thinly populated, the minerals unvaried and sparse in quantity and the climate unsuited for large-scale production of most foodstuffs of any sort. This lead to House Stark being quite poor compared to other houses further south, such as the Lannisters and the Tyrells.


    This was detrimental to The North as they wouldn''t be able to sustain an army large enough to face against the southern lords, nor would they have enough soldiers to defend against the army of the dead.


    This damned medieval situation was giving him a headache.

 4 Years Later

    Four years had now gone by and Torrhen was now fifteen years old. His dark, grey eyes gleamed and his facial featured had become far more prominent and sharp, like a wolf''s. His black hair came down to his shoulders and his body had developed a more defined layer of muscle, which gave him a lot more confidence in himself. After all, he never had muscles in his last life. Not like these.


    Torrhen sat in the library, staring out at the sunset through a window, his brows knitted.


    "What seems to be the matter, Torrhen?"


    Maester Luwin appeared at the door and looked at him with concern. The wrinkles on his forehead bunched together and formed lines.


    Torrhen looked at him and couldn''t help but recall Luwin''s future, as he bled out by the heart tree. Not wanting to worry him, Torrhen relaxed his expression and smiled.


    "Nothing much, just thinking about something irrelevant."


    Before Luwin could say anything else, Torrhen dashed out of the room and ran down the stairs that led to the courtyard.


    Outside, he found Robb and Jon practicing archery as Ser Rodrik watched over them from the side. He was laughing at something his son Jory had said, who was also laughing next to him. He heard the familiar hustle and bustle that was usually heard.


    He could hear Mikken at his forge hammering at iron and steel. He could hear the barks of the dogs in the kennels as kennelmaster Farlen played with and fed them. He could hear the clash of swords in the distance as the guards trained.


    Over the past 4 years, he has been living in Winterfell as Torrhen Stark and has watched the family grow and develop. When he compared the family now to what they became in the story and TV show, he felt a pain in his chest.


    He could see the glimmer of hope, energy and wild fervour in Arya, a desire for heroism in Bran, dreams of royalty and glamour in Sansa, aspirations for truth and legitimacy from Jon and a calm happiness in Robb. Ned was a loving father to all six of them and raised them well. Everyone was always smiling and joyful and the atmosphere felt warm and welcoming.


    He felt a sense of family and belonging from the Starks, something Torrhen didn''t think he would ever experience again. But it tore him apart to think of their future. He clenched his fists until his knuckles became white.


    ''I must change everything.''


    "Torrhen! Tell us more stories!"


    He turned around to find his sister Arya running towards him with Bran and Rickon in tow. All three of them seemed to gaze up at him with a fervent gaze in their eyes.


    "Guys, not now. I really do need to go." He gave the three of them a pleading look, but they were having none of it.


    "No!"


    "Tell us stories!"The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "Stowies!"


    ''They even got Rickon to protest against me. He''s only four! Why is he protesting!''


    "Can we please do this later? I really do need to go right now." He put his palms together and begged the three of them.


    "Only if you promise to tell us more stories later." Bran stared me in the eyes with those bright blue eyes of his filled with his resolute conviction.


    "Yes! You will tell us more stories! Like the one about Princess Elsa!" Arya through her fists in the air, unable to contain her sudden excitement.


    Over the past four years, Torrhen had been frequently telling them the stories he remembered from his past life, whether they be stories he was told as a child, from movies, from anime or from anywhere else.


    He regretted doing it, as now Arya, Bran, Rickon and sometimes Sansa would always ask him to tell them stories. They couldn''t be blamed though, as they had lived their entire lives within the walls of Winterfell and wanted something exciting.


    "Alright, fine. I''ll tell you lot more stories later, okay? How does after supper sound?"


    "Lunch!" Rickon shouted out.


    "Yes, it must be after lunch." Arya now had her arms folded as she nodded with her eyes closed.


    "I agree." Bran said, looking up at him expectantly.


    "After lunch it is. Would you three let me leave now?" Torrhen seemed exasperated at this point.


    Without even answering, the three of them just ran off laughing and squealing with happiness as they continued playing in the courtyard.


    "They really do love your stories, Torrhen."


    He turned around to find his mother Catelyn looking at him with a beaming smile on her face, as if she had just seen the greatest thing there could be.


    "Yes, but now they demand it every moment of the day. It''s enough to drive me crazy."


    "They''re your younger siblings. If they weren''t supposed to annoy you at times, what else would they be doing? Besides, you really do tell them fascinating stories. It''s not surprising that they want to hear more."


    "I understand, mother. But I''m only human. I can''t come up with infinite stories."


    ''I''m running out of material. I''ve gone through all the folklore and legends, all the Disney and Disney Pixar movies and all the other children movies too. What do I tell them next time?''


    "It''s alright. You''re very good to them, and they''ll understand where you''re coming from. But they''re still children, so you will have to bear with them."


    "Thank you mother. By the way, do you know where father went?"


    "He''s in his study doing some work. It''s best if you don''t disturb him now."


    Torrhen watched her walk away with a smile on her face as he deliberated on her words.


    ''I guess she isn''t wrong. If my younger siblings don''t annoy me to some extent, are they really my younger siblings? Especially Arya, that wild little thing.''


    Walking past the well, Torrhen walked over to the smithy to check on Mikken''s progress with his request.


    As he walked to the smithy, the sounds of hammering and sparks grew louder and louder. He found Mikken stooped over an anvil, hammering at a red hot blade, perspiration dropping from his balding head and his grey hair clinging to his scalp from all the sweat.


    Not wanting to disturb him, Torrhen stood by the side and waited for him to finish.


    After a few minutes, Mikken put his tools down and looked up at Torrhen.


    "G''day Torrhen. What brings ya here?" He walked over to a table on the side as he spoke and pcked up a flagon of water, gulping great amounts of it down.


    "Is it finished yet?"


    All of a sudden, he put his flagon down and his demeanor became very serious.


    "They''re finished." He said.


    "Great. Show me." Torrhen replied.


    "Just a moment." Mikken went to the wall at the back that was lined with swords and spears and pulled out a box from under a stack of boxes. He opened it and inside were nine throwing daggers, all with a dark tint to them.


    "Boy, I dunno what''ya gonna do with ''em. Seems too small to use, but here they are." He said.


    "I have my own purposes for them. I''ll be on my way then."


    Torrhen walked away with the box in his hand and looked for somewhere discreet within the castle grounds and ended up in a corner of the godswood. He picked up one of the daggers from inside the box and stood about ten paces from the tree before him.


    It was time for training.

 Unexpected Finds (1)

    Time and time again, Torrhen threw the knives at the tree.


    In the beginning, he missed a great many of his throws and he would have to walk to the wall behind the tree to pick up the knife.


    He tried all sorts of stances; he tried overarm trows, underarm throws, sidearm throws and even tried imitating ninjas from Naruto. He missed a lot, but that was to be expected It was his first time throwing knives after all. What he didn''t like was having to go behind the tree and find every knife that missed the tree.


    The sky started to dim and he decided it was time to stop. Sweat was running down his face and his arms felt very sore, but Torrhen felt that it was all worth it. He grumbled to himself as he picked up his knives from behind the tree, hating the chore of finding them in the grass each time.


    ''Wait. Couldn''t I have just borrowed a target from Ser Rodrik?''


    Chuckling at his own oversight, he put the knives back in the box and walked out of the godswood. He almost fell over as bran almost ran into him. He seemed to be chasing Arya, who was continuously turning her head and making silly yet unnervingly annoying faces at Bran.


    "Where is it!" Bran shouted at her.


    "Bleh!" Arya merely responded by sticking her tongue out and running past a corner.


    "Hahahaha" Torrhen couldn''t help but laugh watching this play out before him. It was both endearing and absolutely absurd.


    He wasn''t the only one who thought this, as both Robb and Jon were standing at the side and laughing as well.


    "What''s going on over here?" Torrhen turned to them and asked.


    "Well, the issue over here is that Queen Nymeria has stolen the family heirloom of King Arthur and used it to scratch her back, so in his rage, King Arthur is now chasing after Queen Nymeria to give it back. Little does King Arthur know that the sword is with me us all along."


    Jon tried his hardest to feign seriousness but the words he spoke just sounded so stupid. Especially when he respectfully unsheathed a stick from a piece of cloth behind him.


    "This is meant to be King Arthur''s family heirloom?" Torrhen felt something off about the situation.


    "Why, of course it is brother. The magical and holy sword Excalibur is one that is famed throughout all the lands, having slayed demons and monsters and dragons. It is the most valuable thing in this world!"


    Robb suddenly seemed so self righteous and proud as he praised the stick, causing the three of them to all break out into laughter.


    "Lads, I guess it''s time for supper." Robb cut Jon and Torrhen out of their laughing stupor as he started to walk away.


    At the mention of supper, Jon''s face froze. No one could blame him. Meal times were always the most awkward times of the day for him. He''d have to sit on his own table below the rest of the family and eat in silence.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    At times, one could almost feel Lady Catelyn''s gaze boring down at him. It was the only time of the day that the two of them would always be in the same place as each other, and that gave Jon pressure.


    Torrhen place his hand on Jon''s shoulder and just pat it gently.


    "Don''t mind mother, Jon. It will get better in time. There are a great many things you still need to know."


    "What things, Torrhen?" Jon looked at Torrhen with confusion.


    "I can''t speak of those things just yet. When the time comes, I''ll let you know." Torrhen walked away slowly in the direction of the Great Keep.


    ''How can I let you know your heritage? How can I let you know of your Targaryen ancestry? King Robert would come up here himself and crush your head with his war hammer if anyone were to find out. Forgive us, Jon. The time isn''t right.''


    Leaving behind a bewildered Jon, Torrhen quickened his steps and returned to his room, where he placed the box of knives under his bed. He then rushed off to the Great Hall for supper. By the time he got there, the sky had already darkened.


    He took his place at the table beside Robb and Sansa and ate his meal. He wolfed down the venison and vegetables as fast as he could, much to the surprise of those around him.


    "Have you gained an extra stomach?" Sansa stared up at him, baffled by his actions.


    "Well that would be a sight to see." Ned seemed to laugh a bit to himself, which made Catelyn nudge him with her elbow. This only mad Bran and Arya laugh as well.


    "What''s the matter, Torrhen? Why do you seem so hungry?" Catelyn was confused.


    "Well, umm, I dunno. I guess I just have a large appetite today?" His training had left him famished and, before he knew it, his meal had disappeared from his plate.


    "Torrhen''s a food monster!" Rickon squealed in his delight as he laughed at Torrhen. His words earned the laughter of everyone in the hall, making Torrhen feel a little embarrassed. As soon as he finished his supper, he ran out to the library to avoid all the laughter.


    He always felt peaceful in the library, surrounded by the familiar smell of the books around him. Maybe it was because of his habits from before he came to this world, but he always loved reading and learning something new. He felt his mind broaden whenever something new was brought before him, and cherished the experience of gaining newfound knowledge.


    But he knew he couldn''t take everything too lightly. He had a duty to fulfill to his family, his kingdom, his race and himself. There were too many dangers, too many variables. It was enough to drive him mad.


    A maid came in to light up the candles in the library. Now that there was some more light, Torrhen looked through the shelves for something to read. He had read and analysed a great majority of the books before him.


    Luwin said he had the potential to become a maester of the Citadel, but why would he ever want that? Swear off women, titles, family, wealth and land? Why would he ever do such a thing!?


    But what really interested him about this library was that he always found something knew to read. Whenever he felt he had read all there was to read, he found a whole new set of books.


    Then again, House Stark has ruled from their seat in Winterfell for thousands of years. It wouldn''t be strange for their book collection to have expanded.


    Walking by the shelves, he ran his hands along the books to find a title he hadn''t seen yet. It always was a tedious chore for him to find a new book.


    He quickly swilled his head to the corner of the room.


    ''What was that?''


    Torrhen wasn''t sure if it was from the flickering of the candle and his imagination, but he seemed to see a small button in the far corner of the library. He walked over, his head cocked to the side in his curiosity and his brows furrowed.


    There was a shelf of books in front of where he believed the button to be, so he gently and carefully pushed it out of the way.


    He saw a very small button, almost invisible, sticking out of the wall in the corner. It looked as if it was there by mistake, but Torrhen thought there may be something here.


    Then he pressed the button and the windowless wall to his side began to tremble and shake.


    "Whoa! What the heck is this!?"

 Unexpected Finds (2)

    "Whoa! What the heck is this!?"


    The wall trembled violently as a burst of cold wind began rushed out of it, blowing out all the candles in the library and plunging it into darkness. Torrhen heard windows shattering from the sheer force of the blowing wind. The wall seemed to open up down the middle and dust seemed to explode out of it.


    Torrhen had to cover his eyes to protect them from the dust flying everywhere and the piercing winds around him. The whole process only took some seconds, but the air in the entire library was filled with dust and the temperature of the room became much colder. He began to cough and his eyes felt like there were ants crawling all over them as his limbs began to shiver.


    Doubled over, he quickly made his way to the door and burst through it. He immediately took a deep breath, feeling grateful for the fresh air outside the library. He walked a few paces down the staircase before coming to a halt and sitting on the steps.


    ''Okay, there is definitely something important there. You don''t make a secret door for nothing. Do I go by myself or tell my father?''


    Torrhen was caught in a dilemma. He could choose to go back and explore whatever secret there was, but he would be liable to risk and may harm himself. He had no idea what was in there, and whatever he found could end up killing him.


    He wasn''t naive. This wasn''t a game where he could respawn after dying, nor was it some story where the main character is surrounded by plot armour. Even if the life he''s living was just a part of the books or TV show, he knew well enough that there was no such thing as plot armour. He had seen too many so-called ''main characters'' die to know that.


    His other choice of telling his father, in comparison, wasn''t as dangerous as going in alone. He would go in with his father and maybe some of the guards. They were all veterans in battle, so they would be more alert towards danger.


    The only downsides to this was that he may not be allowed to go in and he may not be allowed to keep whatever was found within. Winterfell is thousands of years old and, given by the sheer volume of dust that came flying out, that door hadn''t been opened in at least hundreds of years. There had to be something powerful inside, something mythical.


    ''You know what, screw it! I''ll go in alone. If it''s too dangerous, I''ll come back out and tell father about this place.''


    He got up and quickly made his way back to the door. He knew he didn''t have a lot of time as someone would be coming to the library soon. The books had to be well maintained, so people would have to regularly dusk them, clean any dirt from them and so on. Maybe maester Luwin may come to read a book. Either way, someone would be coming soon, so he didn''t have much time.


    He opened the door and was greeted by the general darkness that now engulfed the library. The stale smell of all the dust in the air wafted into his nose and his throat, making him cough a little. From the direction of the hidden door, there seemed to be an eerie white light shining very faintly, almost non-existent.


    Turning to face it, he saw the opening in the stone wall. It opened up to reveal a face made of pale wood. Carved into the wood was a face not dissimilar to those of the Heart Trees of the old gods.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Its nose was arched and crooked. Its face was aged and covered with wrinkles, seemingly half dead. It was dangerously pale, making it look as if it were already dead. Its expression was forlorn, its open mouth bent downwards in its supposed sadness. Red shining trails came down from its closed eyes, resembling tears of blood.


    ''A weirwood gate!? Why is there a weirwood gate here?''


    Torrhen couldn''t be blamed for his confusion. The only other weirwood gate should have been in the abandoned Nightfort up at the wall. It''s existence was dubious at best and surrounded by dark tales of human sacrifices related to the 13th Lord Commander of the Night''s Watch, the Night''s King.


    It''s eyes suddenly opened and an oppressive aura weighed down on Torrhen as he stood before it. Its eyes were a very pale blue, the pale blue that could be seen in the irides of the blind. It was almost milky, and seemed very clouded.


    ''The one at the Nightfort never had bleeding eyes! What is this?''


    "Who are you?" It began to talk, it''s deep voice rumbling throughout the library.


    ''What do I do? Do I have to say something? Some kind of oath? At the Nightfort, you recite the oath of the Night''s Watch to go through, what do I say here? Do I just say who I am?''


    "I am Torrhen of the House Stark, son of Eddard of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell," Torrhen said. "Winter is coming, and forgotten monsters come with it."


    "Then enter," the door said. its lips opened, wide and wider and wider still, until nothing at all remained but a great gaping mouth in a ring of wrinkles. Only darkness could be seen within.


    ''Wow. That actually worked.''


    Slowly, Torrhen made his way into the hole, fearful of what he may find.


    --------------------


    Torrhen''s father Eddard was seated in his study, going through the revenue and writing down where the funds would go to when he felt something pressing down on him. There was nothing around him that did so, yet he felt it nonetheless.


    He looked out the window to see if there was anything wrong. Looking towards the library tower, he saw something hazy floating out of one of its windows, and he saw no lights from any of the windows either. He had a feeling something was wrong.


    He quickly put on his cloak and rushed out to the courtyard, where he was greeted by Jory and Rodrik Cassel. There were guards running around with weapons drawn, all of whom wore serious looks on their faces.


    "What''s going on over here?" he asked.


    "I don''t know m''lord. There was just a loud boom and dust started coming out of the windows," Jory replied. "We haven''t gone inside yet and have only closed off the perimeter."


    "Good," Ned said. "I want you to get a few men together, no more than 10. You''ll accompany me to go in and see what''s inside."


    "M''lord, is that necessary?" Ser Rodrik looked concerned as he spoke.


    "Normally it wouldn''t be. But something doesn''t sit well with me about this," He said.


    "Aye, something feels wrong. Something powerful must be in there,I can feel it." Rodrik said. "M''lord, can you feel it too?"


    Eddard didn''t reply, only ruminating on Ser Rodrik''s words.


    ''So I''m not the only one who can feel it. There must be something afoot. But what exactly could do this?''


    Before he could think any further, he was interrupted by shouts from behind him.


    "My lord!"


    "Father!"


    Eddard turned around and saw his ward Theon and his son Robb walking towards him. Theon held the ancestral sword Ice within his hands. They both looked very worried. Behind them, he could see Arya and Bran rushing out, followed by Sansa, Septa Mordane and Catelyn. All of them seemed to have some form of displeasure on their faces


    "Father, what happened? What''s this weird pressure?" Robb asked.


    "I don''t know. You kids stay with your mother while I go check," he said.


    He took Ice from Theons hands and went to the door leading into the tower. He waited there for a few moments before Jory Cassel returned with 10 guards following him.


    "We''re ready, m''lord," Jory said.


    "Alright then. Let''s go, shall we?" Without waiting for a response, Eddard turned and walked into the tower.

 Unexpected Finds (3)

    Walking into the tower, Ned realised that the pressure seemed to increase more and more. After walking up 5 steps, it was as if someone was sitting on his shoulders. After 10 more steps, it was as if he were carrying a heavy load on his back.


    He turned around to see how Jory and the others were doing, but they were already stooped over, finding it difficult to even stand up. Beads of sweat ran down their faces and veins were visible on their foreheads. They were all gritting their teeth and they seemed to be experiencing a great deal of pain.


    "What''s the matter?" he asked.


    "M''lord, how are you doing this?" Jory looked up at Ned with a look of astonishment.


    "All of you return and seal off this tower. No one is allowed to come near this place. And find Torrhen. I didn''t see him earlier and he may try to come here when no one is looking," Ned said.


    "But m''lord-" Jory tried to speak, but Ned wasn''t having any of it.


    "Enough. I will go alone," Drawing Ice from its scabbard, he continued to ascend the flight of stairs.


    """Yes, m''lord,""" With a slight bow, Jory and the castle guards all made their way back down to the door.


    Ned kept ascending, sword in hand, towards the library. His surroundings grew colder and darker, and the air had a stale smell to them.


    The pressure on him continued to mount as he climbed up, to the point where he had difficulty standing on his feet by the time he reached the door.


    ''But why were the others having such a hard time downstairs? What''s different?''


    He truly was baffled by the difference in pressure experienced by him and the guards. The pressure he was experiencing right now is the pressure the guards felt downstairs. He wondered why it was so difficult for them and relatively easy for him.


    The wooden door was already ajar, so he lightly gave it a push. It slowly swung open, creaking very loudly as it did so.


    Upon opening the door, he was bombarded by a sense of dread and doom. Looking within, he found a large face in the wall made of weirwood. It looked aged and had the features of a wizened man. It had a pair of very pale blue eyes that shined faintly in the dark room.


    "Leave," It spoke. "The covenant is fulfilled."


    ''Covenant? What covenant!?''


    "I''m sorry, but I don''t know what covenant you speak of, but I shall leave regardless. I apologise for my rudeness in coming here."


    Ned slowly backed away, Ice still pointed in front of him. A cold sweat broke out on his back. His eyes darted around, searching for any signs of a threat.


    He was scared. He didn''t know why, but he had a feeling front deep within him that his life was at risk, that he could very well die any moment now.


    "Speak, Stark," It said. "Who are you."The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell," He replied.


    "Lord? Are you not a king?"


    "No, I am not," Ned said. "There hasn''t been a Stark king for almost 3 centuries."


    "Disgraceful," It said.


    It''s eyes suddenly became red and Ned suddenly had difficulty breathing. The oppressive feeling had been magnified to extreme levels, and he was already on his knees.


    "Leave."


    It''s voice was lined with disdain and hate. Ned knew he was no longer welcome, so he crawled out of the room and dragged his sword behind him.


    Upon leaving the library and closing the door behind him, all the pressure that had been mounted on him disappeared completely.


    He collapsed onto the floor. His sweat dripped from his face and his clothes were stuck to his skin. His muscles felt utterly powerless, unwilling to move even a single inch.


    He was thoroughly terrified by what he had just faced. He''d rather face a thousand charging knights than walk back in there with that. It seemed insidious and horrifying, giving him the sense that his death was all but certain. He felt small and powerless. He was unwilling to experience any of that again.


    After a while he managed to stand up and fumbled his way down to the bottom of the stircase. Before leaving, he looked back at the staircase and shivered involuntarily.


    --------------------


    Unaware of what was going on outside, Torrhen was in a state of fear, confusion and amazement.


    You see, he was falling through a black abyss.


    He couldn''t see anything except his own body. He didn''t know where he was, how he got here or how this was even possible. He wasn''t even sure if he was going up or down. He had been falling endlessly for an unknown amount of time. He had no sense of time here, and didn''t even bother trying to count out the time anyway.


    It shouldn''t have been possible for him to be here. According to the knowledge he had, the weirwood gates were only doors that required specific oaths. They shouldn''t have been able to teleport him anywhere. Granted, he had very little knowledge on them as only one appeared in the books and very briefly.


    That was another point that confused him.


    ''Isn''t this world meant to follow the TV show''s progression? Why are there elements from the book here? Have the two been mixed together?''


    This was a terrifying aspect for Torrhen. This was because he would now be unsure how the future timeline would progress. There were many events that were different, the timelines were different, appearances were different and even the characters were different. If the two plots merged, he had no guarantee if there would even be any similarity in the future''s timeline to the timelines he already knew about.


    He came to three conclusions. Either the world was already like this and the two plots were already merged, his existence had caused a butterfly effect so huge that everything changed or that this was one of many things that wasn''t explored in either version of the story.


    He grew bored of all the falling, so he began to go over the complete plot that he remembered in his head to pass the time.


    After a while, he began to see his surroundings suddenly change and a landscape blurred into existence from beneath him.


    He landed face-first into what felt and smelt like grass. Lifting his head up, he found himself in the middle of an endless plain. There wasn''t a single cloud in the sky and the sun was burning him from above.


    Looking around he found nothing for as far as his eyes could see. Nothing but an old man on a rocking chair.


    He had a long, grey beard that reached halfway down his chest. His face was covered in wrinkles and his head was bald, covered in liver spots. His dark, pearl eyes glistened in wisdom.


    He sat with a a wooden staff across his lap, probably for walking. He wore a loose linen shirt and trousers with nothing on his dirt-covered feet. He gave the aura of a humble sage of some sort.


    "Why are you here," he said. "Nobody should be able to come here."


    "I don''t really know why, either," Torrhen said, scratching the back of his neck. "I just somehow got here."


    "No. If you''re here, it means you are qualified. But you look weak," the old man said. "You will likely die."


    ''What!? What''s this about dying!? This is too soon! The plot didn''t even start yet!''


    "Never mind. Now that you are here, you must complete the test. Try to succeed," the old man said.


    "What test am I doing?" asked Torrhen. "What consequences are there for failure."


    "Don''t fail." The old man said. He lifted the staff from his lap and softly tapped the floor with it.


    Then the whole world around him seemed to be torn apart.

 Test (1)

    Torrhen was baffled as he watched the world around him be torn apart.


    ''Hey! I just got here! At least explain something!?''


    With the world fragmenting around him, he felt his mind tearing at the seems. He started seeing strange colours and duplicates of everything. The word was spinning and up and down had been swapped all of a sudden.


    It was safe to say that he wasn''t enjoying the experience.


    After holding his head and reeling over from the seemingly endless pain, he found himself in a majestic hall. The ceiling was too far away for him to see it at all; he saw only darkness above him.


    The walls were made of gold, before them were statures of warriors at least a mile tall. They wore elegant suits of shining white armour and had weapons that gave off the impression of slaughter and chaos.


    At the back of the hall stood an unimaginably large door. It couldn''t even be considered a door. Its height was comparable to the skyscrapers he saw in his past life when he lived in New York. It was completely black, dark to the point where light couldn''t escape it. All that could be seen was a giant void of darkness with a door knob part of the was along it.


    Within this expansive hall, he was among a crowd standing before a colossal throne. An unfathomable being sat upon it.


    It had red and blue markings trailing down from its starry blue irides. His locks of glossy black hair cascaded down to the small of his back and had gemstone trinkets and ornament within it. It wore immaculate white robes and golden shoes.


    Upon its head sat a glistening silver crown with 9 gemstones. At the very front was a large star sapphire, and alongside it was a pearl, jade, tourmaline, onyx, topaz, opal, amethyst and bloodstone.


    Looking down at all of us beneath him, it gripped his throne and stood up.


    "Kneel."


    With but a single word, it made everyone in the hall kneel powerlessly before it. The sounds of knees hitting the floor from across the hall created a large booming noise after it echoed through the vast space of the hall.


    Torrhen felt like his knee was on the verge of breaking upon impact with the floor. He didn''t notice it until now, but he felt it was absurd how was it possible for the floor to be so hard. Simply kneeling forcibly made his knee hurt so bad.


    ''Seems like nothing good will happen next.''


    He looked around, but to his horror, he saw the face of his mother Catelyn a few meters away from him.


    ''No no no no no, why is she here!? What''s going on!?''This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    With a wave of the giant''s hand, everyone was moved about, such that everyone was faced with a single person before them.


    Before him stood his mother, who smiled at him lovingly.


    "Mother-" Torrhen tried to speak to his mother and ask what had happened, but he was interrupted midway.


    "If you wish to leave from this place, kill the person before you. All who fail this will die." Its voice echoed through the hall, shaking the walls.


    Violet fires suddenly appeared above the statues'' heads and a gold light began to shine in their eyes.


    Naturally, murmurs broke out among the crowd. People seemed to be unwilling to perform such a task.


    "No! I refuse to kill my own father! You''re a demon!"


    A man stood out from the crowd and ran for the door behind him. Before anyone else could interfere, a colossal halberd came swinging down from above him. A corpse wasn''t eve left behind, only a puddle of blood remaining.


    Following the handle, his sight came towards one of the statues lining the walls, except it had just swung its halberd downward.


    ''They''re alive! The statues are alive!''


    Now Torrhen knew that his situation was really bad. On one hand he had to kill his mother. On the other hand, he would die badly if he didn''t.


    The hall descended into madness.


    There were those who started screaming and running around in fear, tears welling up in their eyes. You could see the fear and hopelessness in their eyes as they dreaded their futures.


    There were were some who immediately tried to kill those opposite them. The floor became wet with all the bloodshed and the smell of iron filled the air.


    Torrhen''s legs began to waver. He wasn''t prepared for any of this. He wasn''t prepared at all.


    ''I was supposed to have 2 more safe years! There were supposed to be 2 more years before I encountered anything dangerous! Why!? Why!?''


    Suddenly, his mother lunged at him with a knife, slashing down to his neck.


    ''Knife? From where?''


    Upon thinking of this, he received some information in his head. As long as he thought of it, he''d be able to conjure up a weapon, so he summoned a short sword. He didn''t have the room for a larger sword, so this was best.


    His mother let out a bestial roar as she lunged to him once again. He parried her strike and directed it downwards. Seeing her still bent over, he used his free hand to punch her ribs.


    She fell to the side, but as she did so, she threw her knife at his face. He didn''t notice it until it was right in front of him. He tried his hardest to doge, but it cut out a deep wound as it sliced across the side of his cheek.


    A deep gash formed on his face and blood spurted out of it.


    "Why are you doing this, mother!?"


    He screamed in his anguish. He had memories of her loving smile and happy face as she would take care of him and play along when they wanted to have fun. He remembered when she would tell him and Robb stories in the garden when they ran away from father and wanted to hide from him. He remembered that and so much more.


    So it hurt him far more to see her like this, with her mind deranged and her completely set on killing him.


    Seeing her get up, he punched her arms and legs, making it impossible for her to get up.


    Out of nowhere, a flying arrow embedded itself in his thigh, forcing him to the ground. Seeing the opportunity, his mother crawled towards him with a hatchet in hand. She tried to swing at his, but he dodged in time.


    All the blood from his face and the floor left a bitter taste in his mouth. As he looked up, he saw that the flames above the statues had died down by quite a bit, almost put out entirely.


    Seeing this, he had an epiphany.


    The test probably never was to kill the other person. The flames were a timer. They were counting down the time for something, but it was probably not for killing someone.


    With this in mind, he intended to wholeheartedly dodge his mother''s strikes, no matter how injured he was and how chaotic his surroundings.


    After a while, the last flame became extinguished and everything in the hall was fixed in place. Even the droplets of blood in the air remained in place.


    "Your time is up."

 Test (2)

    "Your time is up."


    No matter how hard he tried, Torrhen was unable to move any part of his body. Even his eyes were fixed in place, and a sense of dread spread through his body.


    Even his insides froze in place. His blood no longer flowed. His heart stopped beating. No air went in and out of his body. Nothing moved.


    It was as if time was completely frozen.


    The only thing that wasn''t frozen was his consciousness, which he found strange. How was everything else frozen, but his consciousness perfectly fine?


    "You who dared to kill your own parents are unworthy. Die."


    With a single word of his, thousands of bodies disappeared in a puff of red mist.


    With a look of displeasure on his face, he waved his hand ever so slowly, after which all the red mist dissipated slowly as well.


    ''How the hell does that work? He moved his arm slowly, so how did thousands of square meters of the stuff dissipate into nothing? Ha ha ha. Then again, why am I asking questions with the situation I''m in. It''s not like any of this makes sense anyway.''


    After the mist cleared, there were only a few people left in the expansive hall, a number small enough to count on your two hands. None of them seemed to be from Westeros though: some hat the brown skin and eyes of Asians, some had the dark skin of Africans and one of them even looked like a barbarian, with a height well beyond 7 feet and arms the size of Torrhen''s upper body and a glistening, muscular body covered in bulging, pulsating veins criss-crossing under the tanned skin.


    The giant being''s ice-cold eyes stared down at them, his sombre gaze bearing down on them.


    "Those of you that remain, salutations on you all for making it here. It brings me grief to force this burden on you all, but you shall now make your choice. Our race''s survival depends on it."


    ''Wait wait wait wait! What''s going on!? OUR race? You''re HUMAN!!?? What the actual F**K is going on!


    ''Survival!? Is he talking about the Others? But that''s Westeros. And what''s with the Asians? Yi Ti? Leng? And the Africans as well. Norvos? The Summer Isles? Where do all these people come from!? And this frickin mammoth of a human too! Where in the world does such a human descend from!?''


    Torrhen tried to look around and from what he could barely make out (given that his eyes couldn''t move) was that no one else seemed flustered about what the giant before them was saying.


    ''CAN SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME JUST WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON HERE!!??''


    Loud tremors sounded out behind him as the giant waved his hand.


    "Go and choose. Your fates await you."


    And with the force of an explosion, Torrhen was propelled back. The wind resistance alone had torn the clothes on his back and ripped into his skin, his blood flowing around him. Everything blurred around him, rendering his vision pretty much useless. His surrounding darkened the further he went, until everything was pitch black once again.


    ''Okay, this is seriously unfair. How could something like this BE HIDDEN IN THE FUCKING LIBRARY OF ALL PLACES!!! OLD MAN GEORGE, I WANT TO KILL YOU! WHY DIDN''T YOU TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS!!!''


    As he was cursing to himself in his mind, a wolf appeared before him. It was majestic, with luscious fur. Even in this darkness, it was still very clearly visible, as if the darkness wasn''t there to begin with. But the wolf was very familiar to Torrhen.


    ''Isn''t that the same wolf?''


    It was familiar for it was the same wolf he had seen in his dream when he first arroved in this world. Every detail was the same.


    "Who or what are you?" Torrhen asked.


    "What is power?" It replied.


    ''Fuck you! Can''t you just answer the damn question!?''


    "Where am I?" Torrhen asked.


    "What is power?" It replied once more.


    "What is going on?"


    "What is power?" It asked again.


    ''Fuck your mother!''


    Knowing that this wasn''t going anywhere, he decided to try and answer the question being asked of him.


    At first, the question seemed easy to answer, but as one thought deeper about the question, it was much more complex. There are many things in this world that could be said to be attributed to power. Wealth, authority, strength, religion, faith, love, monopolies, military and knowledge could all be said to be power. If all of these constitute power, what is power in and of itself?


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.It was at this point that he was reminded of a quote from Varys, a quote that is truly able to summarize all of these points.


    ''"Power resides where men believe it resides. No more and no less." Something that only resides where people believe it to, that could only be a dream or illusion. But saying that power is an illusion doesn''t do the term justice. One can''t just say it doesn''t exist. It is as true as the existence of the sun and moon, an absolute truth.''


    He stood there and pondered on the question for a long time, but was unable to think of an answer that could encompass everything, so he decided to say the best idea he could come up with.


    "Power is an illusion that resides where men believe it resides. No more and no less. A shadow on the wall, a fleeting idea of human fantasy. Yet it is as essential to all living beings as sustenance and air to breath."


    ====================


    Back in Winterfell, it''s been a week since Torrhen disappeared. All news of what had transpired has been silenced, but news still got out that something mystical had appeared in the library at Winterfell. This prompted the Lord of Winterfell, Lord Eddard Stark to realize that there may be those in his retinue that could not be trusted. With this thought in mind, he had Lady Catelyn begin training maidservants that would be absolutely loyal to the House. He trusted the rest for now of his retinue for now, but this may change if there are issues in future.


    There were many who asked to visit the library, but Lord Eddard had rejected any and all lords who requested entry into the library. Even King Robert expressed his intention to see the library, but Ned could only try his best to decline as respectfully decline, promising to send his gifts instead. Ned wouldn''t mind allowing King Robert in, but knowing how his friend had a lifestyle steeped in debauchery, it was only a matter of time before he got too drunk one day and the secret in the library became common knowledge in King''s Landing.


    Ned himself sat at his desk in his study. Dinner had finished a couple of hours ago and the castle had already quietened for the night. Before him stood Maester Luwin.


    "So you''re absolutely sure that this is what we''ve been waiting for, Luwin?" Ned asked.


    "Of course, my lord. The signs all add up," Luwin replied.


    Within Winterfell, Maester Luwin was of the very few he could trust with the full information of what had taken place in the library. Even Lady Catelyn, his wife, didn''t know the full story. The events were too sensitive and touched upon many of House Stark''s secrets. But Maester Luwin was special, having being a maester only to facilitate the protection of these many secrets.


    "Everything aligns with the prophecy of old. A boy of Stark blood, born without a soul, shall gain one and change at the most fundamental level. He will undergo the trial of the ancients and guide those of the First Men to its greatest heights, rediscovering the magic we have lost as a people," Luwin said.


    Even though this sounded great, Ned still had a frown on his face as he tapped his desk in agitation.


    "Yes, but it also means a period of great turmoil and peril is ahead of us. It''s fine if he does as you said, but what will become of the rest of us?"


    "I see, my lord. But it may not be him. How many in the North bear the blood of House Stark? Maybe it''s young Torrhen, maybe it isn''t. Prophecy is a double edged sword after all, it would only do us harm for us to try ascertain the details it speaks of."


    "I see. That will be all, Luwin."


    "Yes, my lord." With a bow, Luwin left the study, leaving Ned alone at his desk. Ned sighed deeply as he looked up at the ceiling, a weary look on his face.


    ''I hope Torrhen is okay.''

 Hidden Room (1)

    Ned sighed deeply as he looked up at the ceiling, a weary look on his face.


    ''I hope Torrhen is okay.''


    This past week had not been good for him. One one hand, he had to deal with an entire continent of lords who all wanted to waltz into his library and see what had happened, giving no small amount of stress and frustration.


    On the other hand, he had a deeply worried wife that took this all personally and through some sort of seemingly profound logic believed this was all her fault and that it was the Seven above who had brought this down upon her as punishment for her wrongdoings. Something about ''not loving a motherless child'' tormented her day and night, which was bad for Ned as he had to tend to her during the day and calm her down in the night. Almost every night over the past week had gone by with barely any shut-eye. Instead, he spent his nights coaxing his wife to sleep as tears stained his tunic and the sheets beneath them. It didn''t help that his children, all except Rickon, were also very deeply worried about him. Robb had got Rickon to believe that Torrhen had just gone a hunting trip alone to stop the boy from crying, and he hasn''t worried since.


    Ned felt the need to give closure to Cat and tell her the truth about Jon and who his parents were. He knew that she felt her disregard and hate for Jon lead her to believe this was all her fault. After all, there wasn''t anyone else in the castle that could really be described as motherless. But the dying face of his sister Lyanna prevented him from doing so, lest he broke the promise he made to her no her deathbed.


    Caught between his honour and his guilt towards his wife,he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.


    What was worse was that a faint throbbing noise could be heard from the library when all the noise in the castle died down. This wasn''t heard in the day, but past the hour of the wolf ("the blackest part of night", midnight), this was loud and clear, frightening the animals and the people alike. Every morning, he saw his people getting more and more tired as they lost many hours of sleep from fear and superstition.


    Some had begun to say that Winterfell was cursed, but he shrugged that off. It wasn''t the first time people suspected Winterfell was haunted and cursed, and it most certainly wouldn''t be the last. But something about this incident, probably his instincts, told him that everything would change if and when Torrhen returned.


    ====================


    "Power is an illusion that resides where men believe it resides. No more and no less. A shadow on the wall, a fleeting idea of human fantasy. Yet it is as essential to all living beings as sustenance and air to breath."


    After finishing his statement, Torrhen blacked out and woke up with a bad headache. It felt like he had a soldering iron pierced into his skull with how much pain he had.


    He slowly got up from the floor, the taste and smell of dust filling his senses. Inspecting his surroundings, he saw a dark room lit with an eerie green light. He could see moss covering the dark stone walls around him.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Before him was a double door. It was quite grand, standing at roughly 15 feet in height from what he could gather. The whole thing was made of a shiny black wood with a shining green metal at its rims. Around the height of his stomach were two golden doorknobs shining with gold. Carved in the middle of the double door was a sort of taiji symbol with two wolves, coloured black and white. The black wolf seemed to swallow the black sun and the white wolf swallowed the black moon, both wolves resembling those of the Stark sigil. Surrounding it was a thick white border with black runes written across it


    (See here: https://uploads.disquscdn.com/images/09ebfc38403adbdfc6745b7dcf360e001d8c21248930f376d714d7f519468ad4.jpg</a>)


    "Where am I?" Torrhen asked himself. "What am I forgetting here?"


    He took a closer look at the door before him, marvelling at the workmanship that went into so beautifully depicting the image before him. He then looked to the runes surrounding it, studying what it could be.


    "Skoll is the name of the wolf who chases the bright priest into the desolate forest, and the other is Hati, Fenrir''s son, who chases the bright bride of the sky...Wait, I understand this!?"


    This realisation came as a shock to him. It was a great surprise to find out that he understood the runes on the door. He had never even learnt a single rune, after all.


    He had the feeling that something happened between his reply to the wolf and his waking up here, but he had no clue what it was. There was a gap in his memory that nothing around him could give hints for. But something significant must have happened for him to suddenly understand runes.


    Thinking further, he also realised that what he just read had a very significant importance.


    "Fenrir? Hati? Skoll? What am I dealing with here? Norse mythology!? What does a being like Fenrir and Norse mythology in general even have to do with House Stark in the first place!? Old man George, I really want to kill you right now!"


    He knew what the three of them were from his old life, when his name was still John Scott and studied Norse Mythology in class. No one wanted to, but with how Norse mythology was misrepresented in movies and other forms of entertainment, their history teacher took it upon himself to teach them about it properly, along with the Olympians, the Hindu gods, the Egyptian gods, Buddha and the Shinto pantheon.


    According to his knowledge, Fenrir was supposed to be the wolf son of Loki, the God of lies, deception and fire, and brother of Jormungandr, the World Serpent, and Hel, goddess of the underworld. Due to being too powerful, the Aesir tried to chain him twice and failed. On the third go, Fenrir grew suspicious of their intentions even though the gods said that they were playing a game and testing his strength. He demanded one of the gods to put the hand in his maw as a show of faith. With no other gods daring to do so, Tyr, the God of War, placed his hand into Fenrir''s maw. When the chains bound Fenrir, he bit off the hand of Tyr as was expected. The chain was tied to a boulder with a sword placed in his maw to keep his mouth open. The river ''Expectation'' flowed from his mouth as he awaited Ragnarok, when he''d break free of his fetters and run throughout the world, with his lower jaw on the ground and his upper jaw above the sky, destroying everything and even going so far as to kill Odin, the King of Asgard and ruler of the Aesir tribe of gods.


    Skoll (One Who Mocks) and Hati (One Who Hates) are supposedly supposed to chase the Moon and Sun respectively and devour the two on Ragnarok, but it was uncertain whether or not the two of them were merely other names for Fenrir, who was also described in myths to devour the Sun on Ragnarok.


    ''Now what the heck does this all have to do with House Stark!?''

 Hidden Room (2)

    ''Now what the heck does this all have to do with House Stark!?''


    He knew that the answers to his questions would most likely lie behind the double door. He tentatively placed his hand on the golden doorknob, after which he felt something prick his thumb.


    "Ow!" Torrhen immediately jerked his hand back and saw some of his blood left behind on the doorknobs. However, it was quickly absorbed, leaving the doorknob unblemished.


    With a loud boom, the doors unlocked and slowly began to open. Air with the satisfying smell of aged books blew into his face as the black wolf on the doors separated from the white wolf.


    When the doors were fully opened Torrhen saw absolutely nothing as there was no light. With the dim greenish light around him, he could make out that there were very tall shelves of books in his immediate vicinity.


    As he walked in, candles started to light up all across the room, shedding light on the interior. He was surrounded by tall bookcases roughly 100 feet in height from what he could gather, all filled with an assortment of books. He slowly walked along the bookshelf, tracing his index finger along the spines of the various books level with his eyes and reading the runic titles written on the spines.


    "A Biography of The Red Grass King...The Various Clans of the Chaos Empire...I must be in some historical section...Records of the Final Emperor...Earth: The First Epoch...The Lineage of the Barbarian King...The House of Mayne-wait a minute!"


    ''EARTH! There''s news about EARTH!''


    He frantically took a few steps back until he reached where he saw the word Earth. With shaking hands, he pried the book out of the bookcase. The book itself was as thick as his face and heavier than it let on.


    "I would put that back down if I were you."


    Torrhen jumped as he turned around, evidently startled by the sudden voice.


    "Whoa, can you not be so sudden in your approach? Who are you anyway?"


    In front of him stood a man with pristine white skin and robes to match. He had flowing blond hair cut at his shoulders, a bright blond that accentuated the deep blue of his eyes. He had a noble disposition about him, one not too dissimilar from scholars.


    "I am the Librarian. That''s all you need to know about who I am. Given that you have arrived, I assume you must have passed the Lord''s examination, So I am now here to serve you."


    With that, he made a respectful bow, confounding Torrhen.


    ''Okay, what the heck?What exactly is missing from my memory!?''


    "Alright, then. Rise," Torrhen could do nothing but act as naturally as he could. "Could you perhaps enlighten me with your name?"


    "My lord, this humble servant bears no name" He said as he stood up. "I beseech you to bestow me with one."If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Okay. How about Alfred?"


    "And no family name, my lord?"


    "What would you have as a family name then?"


    "Something elegant would be nice."


    "Hmm, let me think."


    ''Elegant surnames. What would count as elegant? Rockefeller? No...Eisenhower? No...Montgomery? No...What about Fairfax? I dunno, let''s just go with it.''


    "What about Fairfax. Alfred Fairfax, what do you think?"


    "Hmm, interesting choice. A surname from the First Epoch. Interesting."


    ''There it is again. First Epoch, what does that mean?''


    "I''m sorry, but what do you mean by the First Epoch?"


    "I apologise, my lord, but I cannot allow you to know this information. These are the orders of my last master. Not yet at least."


    "When can you tell me?"


    "You will know when you are ready. As such, I must confiscate this book."


    With a sweep of his hand, the book disappeared into thin air and another book took it''s spot on the shelf titled ''Memoirs of a Broken King: The Life of Eswick Bloodgroove''.


    ''Motherfucker!''


    "What is your purpose here. anyway?"


    "My purpose here is to serve you and help you become a ruler of humanity. But before that, I recommend you leave temporarily. Your family outside is quite distraught."


    "Hmm, my family? Do you know how long I''ve been away?"


    "Well, a week has past outside since you came here."


    "Dammit! How do I go back!"


    "We are quite far from the exit, but with my help you could leave from where you are."


    "And how would you accomplish that, exactly?"


    "The same way I replaced the book that was in your hand."


    "And how would I come back here?"


    "Just think it and you will return."


    "Okay, let''s go."


    "Just a slight warning, you will certainly feel very dizzy and lightheaded, you will probably feel a sever headache, you may begin vomiting, and there is a chance of dismemberment. Farewell."


    "Wait-"


    Before he could continue, the world distorted around him.


    ====================


    Torrhen appeared in the library, where he stumbled around in pain. The whole world was spinning around him and his head felt like it was going to explode. He fell to the ground and started vomiting everywhere, with some of it getting onto his hands and knees.


    "Ah, fuc-blargh"


    It was completely uncontrollable. All the blood rushed to his head, so the veins in his forehead were all popping out and his eyes had become bloodshot. His body was shaking uncontrollably as he continued to retch everywhere.


    After a while, when he''d finished spilling his guts everywhere, Torrhen slowly got up and made his way to the door, staggering and stumbling. He fumbled his way through the door and tripped on a stone, causing his to fall down the stairs. It didn''t help that he started vomiting again in free fall.


    After tumbling for a few seconds without dying, he came to a halt halfway down the tower. He was sure that he''d broken a couple bones just now and was covered in bruises from head to toe. He just wanted to get out of here, and fast.


    For the next few hours, attempted to slowly roll his way down the stairs, stopping after every step due to his body feeling immense pain all over. When he started, there was still some light coming in from the outside, and when he finally reached the door at the bottom, he could barely see his hand in front of his face.


    Biting his teeth to ignore the pain, he started banging on the door. His arm felt like it was about to explode in a show of blood and gore and his bones felt like they were on the verge of shattering.


    It took a lot of banging, and a lot of pain, before someone finally noticed. Torrhen saw the door open, and a giant stood in the doorway.


    "Hodor...could you...help me up?" Torrhen''s lips began bleeding as he spoke, his burning throat draining him of any will to speak further.


    "Hodor! Hodor hodor hodor!"


    With a single motion, Hodor scooped Torrhen off the ground and holding him in his arms.


    "Hodor hodor hodor hodor hodor!" He began running through the courtyard, gaining the attention of everyone nearby.


    "Dear Gods!"


    "It''s Torrhen!"


    "What happened to him!?"


    "Someone call Lord Eddard!"


    "Idiot! He needs to see the Maester!"


    "Why is he so bloodied?"


    Everyone was shocked by his battered appearance, his broken body soliciting gasps from everyone.


    None of this mattered to Torrhen, though, for he was already unconscious within Hodor''s arms.

 Newfound Conviction

    When Torrhen woke up, he was blinded by a ray of light in his eyes.


    "Oof, whoa," he said, turning his face away from the light. "Why''s it so bright?"


    He tried to move about, but his body decided that that wasn''t happening, making his vision completely darken when he tried to move about, albeit a little too quickly.


    He recognized a line of fur coming up to his face and a stone roof above him, so he figured he was in a room in Winterfell. Most probably his own. To his side, he saw someone''s head with their red hair all in a mess as they slept on a chair by the side of his bed. Their hand was in his own and their head lay beside it.


    "Mother"


    Thinking back, what he went through was akin to a nightmare for him. Before this, the most dangerous encounter he had was getting hit in the head with a basketball back in New York. Everything he had just gone through right now was so surreal and unordinary that it all felt like a dream. A deeply harrowing and horrifying dream. He couldn''t relate the image of pure love and kindness that was his mother to the frenzied look of madness and bloodlust that he encountered wherever he had just left from. The contrast was like the difference between the ground and the sky.


    ''What favours did I ever do for the Gods to deserve a mother like this?''


    The image of her slit throat as she cried out in grief watching Robb and the pregnant Talisa die appeared in his mind. The horror and tragedy that she had to face, dying believing that her whole family had been murdered tore him apart.


    He then thought back to the past few years he''s spent here at Winterfell, to all of his interactions with his new family. Everything seemed so surreal and blissful, but there was always something missing in his interactions. Something was off about him, but he only noticed it now.


    He seemed drawn towards Jon, always helping him and making sure he wasn''t depressed. He always felt a trace of guilt around his three youngest siblings and tried doing whatever he could to make up for it. He saw nothing wrong with these until he thought about his treatment of Theon. He pretty much ignored the guy, and unconsciously had a seething hatred for him.


    ''Am I treating them...according to the story? Have I been assuming...that I was in the story itself?''


    His mind shook at the realisation. Deep down, he took this all to be a fantasy. He couldn''t possibly be in Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire. But the recent events have been a wake-up call of sorts. Things were different now.


    ''Not everything will follow the original plot. There is something much deeper going on and I need to do what I can for my family.''


    He looked to his mother beside him, her dishevelled auburn hair covering his fingertips. A sense of anger began burning inside him. The whole time he had been in this world, his mother was the one who loved him the most. Without hesitation, she would always be there for him and all his siblings. And yet, why did the world have to be so cruel to her? Even in death, she found no peace, seeking only revenge from House Frey as Lady Stoneheart. Unacceptable!


    ''I promise you, I will bring an end to this world and let it all burn to ashes before I let you go through that. I swear in the name of every damn god there is to swear by!''


    He slightly tightened his grip around his mother''s fingers as a newborn conviction was born in his eyes. The gesture stirred Catelyn from her slumber, and as she raised her head, he could see her puffy red eyes and the faint remains of dry tears as she looked into Torrhen''s eyes, her pupils dilating in her surprise.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    "Torrhen!"


    With her shout filled with relief and elation, she jumped towards him and held his body in her embrace as she cried out onto his shoulder. "My boy, my dear boy," she would repeat between sobs as she let out all her pent up guilt and frustration within her heart.


    ''I don''t deserve you, mother. You''re too good to me.''


    Hearing her voice, a guard rushed in with a look of panic. Upon seeing his face, he rushed out of the room. Torrhen could very clearly hear him calling for his father and maester Luwin. The sound of hurried footsteps could be heard through the open doorway, and a few minutes later, maester Luwin appeared.


    As soon as he arrived, he leaned in and placed the back of his hand on Torrhen''s forehead to check his temperature. He then lightly placed two fingers on his wrist to count his heart rate and then began to take off his tunic to assess the injuries below.


    By now, Catelyn had already moved to the side so that Luwin could do his job efficiently, but he could still hear her snivelling.


    "Maester Luwin, how bad is it?" He couldn''t help but ask. There had to be a reason for his mother to be so distraught.


    He was met with no response, just Luwin''s look of pure astonishment and hushed whispers.


    "Not possible...hmm...what''s going on?"


    Luwin then proceeded to prod Torrhen all over and steadily increasing his strength as he did so.


    "Torrhen, are you feeling any pain?"


    "No, why?"


    A sharp glint appeared in his eyes as he began to search Torrhen''s body for something. He then flipped Torrhen over and rubbed his hand across his back.


    "It''s a miracle!"


    "Maester Luwin?"


    "Ah! Yes, what is it Torrhen?"


    "Is something wrong?"


    "Nothing''s wrong. In fact, it''s the complete opposite. You''re completely healed! It''s a miracle!" A look of frenzied excitement was apparent on his face. "But we must find out how you recovered so quickly. Imagine the benefits that would bring! The knowledge we could gain! The-"


    "But maester Luwin, what were my injuries, to begin with?"


    His question had broken Luwin''s reverie and the smile that was growing on his face disappeared.


    "You had 5 broken ribs, your arms and legs were broken in several places and your body was almost completely black and blue from all the bruises, with several cuts both deep and shallow scattered across your body. Your wounds had already healed for the most part and the bandages were removed a few days ago, but your body shouldn''t have healed so quickly! It would have taken you almost a year to recover and even then, you''d only be a cripple. Now you seem completely healed after only 3 weeks!"


    ''3 weeks!? I was out cold for 3 WEEKS!?''


    "But, there is some bad news and it is something that you may not like. You''ll have to prepare yourself for what you''re about to see, and know that there was absolutely nothing I could do about it."


    A sense of foreboding built up in Torrhen''s chest as Luwin quickly shuffled to beside the bed and rummaged for something in a nearby drawer. When he brought out a mirror, his heart sank.


    ''Did something happen to my face?''


    When Luwin brought the mirror before him, he saw his face, but on the side, there was a scar extending from the top of his ear going almost the whole way across his cheek towards his mouth. He traced his scar with a trembling finger.


    (Just the top scar but a little thinner: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b5/8b/23/b58b23808e6592bab112966498ea3b11.jpg</a>)


    ''Wasn''t this where I was cut in the face after I enter that weird place in the library? Did my real body go inside? Everything in there was REAL!?''


    "We don''t know what caused the scar as you had it when you came out, along with some scarring on your back. I have tried to reduce the scarring on your face, but there''s nothing I could do."


    "It''s fine, Torrhen," his mother said, gently placing her hand on the back of his trembling one and caressing his face. "You''re fine, and that''s all that matters."


    She then gave him the most radiant, reassuring smile that he had ever seen, and a feeling of ease washed over him, and he felt refreshed and rejuvenated. He could see the sadness in her eyes, yet here she was doing all she could to cheer him up.


    ''I do not deserve you, and neither does this world. I shall bring you the best there is! You shall have whatever you wish at your feet! I will give you this whole world! Just please stay by my side!''


    A tear began to form in the corner of his eye. He turned his face away to the window, making sure no one could see it. He gazed out to the clouds outside and made a proclamation within himself.


    ''I shall change everything, starting from today! None shall belittle my family! Lord Tywin? King Joffrey? Littlefinger? Night King? Daenerys Targaryen? All of you shall kneel to House Stark! You may have your fun now, but winter will come for all of you!''

 Plans (1)

    It didn''t take long for the rest of the family to burst through the door. Before a word could leave his mouth, three figures had already jumped onto him and embraced him as tightly as they could, their bodies blocking his view completely.


    "You''re okay!?"


    "Towwen!"


    "Are you feeling better?"


    "...need...air"


    Torrhen felt the blood rushing to his face as his windpipe was getting crushed by his siblings'' embrace.


    "Arya, Bran, Rickon, let the poor bloke breathe, would you?" Robb said from behind, as he began to drag them off his body. It was clear the children were reluctant, but a glare from their father put an end to their resistance.


    Looking at them now, he could see worry deeply etched into their faces. His lord father had aged since he''d last saw him, a few grey hairs forming on his scalp. Sansa''s eyes had become red like their mother''s. Robb''s expression was etched with a deep frown, his eyes filled with worry and concern. Bran seemed to be the same as well. Rickon, however, just seemed to be glad he was awake.


    Rickon lifted his arms, gesturing that he wanted to be picked up. Torrhen saw this and smiled as he bent over to lift him onto his bed, ignoring all the pain that wracked his body.


    "Hehe, brofa Towwen''s betta now. More stowies?" he asked, looking him in the eyes with the most adorable expression imaginable.


    "Of course! Why you shall have all the stories you wish!" Torrhen exclaimed in mock anger. "Who dared to claim I would not!"


    This brought a smile to everyone''s faces and the unnoticed tenseness seemed to disappear instantly. It would be a while before they left, where they would bombard him with questions. It was mostly his siblings asking questions. His father remained near the door, a stoic look on his face. But his eyes betrayed him. He could see the deep worry in them. Worry and fear.


    ''But what could make my father, a man who didn''t care to overthrow a 300-year-old dynasty, be so afraid? Perhaps...he knows something? Something about what just happened?''


    He also noticed that both Jon and Theon were absent. Most likely due to his mother. She never could come around to feeling anything positive towards Jon, and she would most certainly be annoyed by Theon''s presence at this moment.


    "Alright, kids. Time to leave. Let your brother rest and maester Luwin do his job. It would be for the best."


    His father gave him a slight nod before leading everyone out of the room, his wife included.


    "No. I will not leave my son''s side like this Ned!"


    "Cat, it would only be for a short while. Let the boy get his bearings and have some time to himself. He needs that much at least."


    If looks could kill, Ned would have died ten times over from these words. Lady Catelyn was livid, her face reddening with her outrage, but she calmed down as her husband pulled her into his embrace.


    "It will be fine, Cat. The Gods have seen to it."


    She sobered from her temper and walked out, not before glancing once more to her bedridden son.


    "It''s alright, mother. I''ll be fine."


    With that, the pair walk out, leaving Torrhen alone with maester Luwin.


    "Torrhen, it would appear that you should be fine within a fortnight or so, given your current rate of healing. As said before, you may wear these scars for life, but judging from your expression, that doesn''t seem to bother you much."Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    "No, not really. If anything, I expected something bigger."


    ''The blood was much more. And the injury longer. Something''s not right.''


    "I have milk of the poppy if you would wish to take it for the pain," Luwin said, reaching into his large sleeves and pulling out a bottle filled with white liquid.


    ''I swear, these maesters and their sleeves. You could fit a horse inside and no one would be any wiser.''


    "No thank you, maester Luwin. But there is something else."


    ''I''ve been too complacent. I''ve researched nothing of the current political situation, nothing of the current Great Houses. I''m not in the novels nor the TV show. Even if I am, my existence has most likely caused butterfly effects that may have significant changes to everything I presume to know. This cannot be allowed to stand..''


    "Oh, and what would that be?"


    "Are there any books detailing the history of all the Great Houses of Westeros? Especially their lineages?"


    ''If to start anywhere, I must start by learning of my foes. Houses Lannister, Baratheon, Tyrell, Martell. I must know who exists. Who died and who lived. Who was supposed to exist and those who never existed in the fictions before.''


    "If you would, we do have an updated copy of ''The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms'', relevant for all of the current Great Houses."


    "That should suffice. Thank you, Luwin."


    That brought a smile to the ageing man''s face.


    "You honour me Torrhen. I live to serve." With a bow, he made his way out, leaving Torrhen alone to his thoughts.


    ''Regardless of what has changed, Cersei''s incest with her younger twin Jamie most likely hasn''t, so I can assume that there will be at least one bastard from it. This means that Jon Arryn''s death is inevitable. Once that happens, Robert will likely ride north to ask my father to be his Hand. By that time, I need to be a powerful enough figure in my own right to assist him in the capital, or else we will all die from his honour. That cannot be allowed to take place.


    ''More than likely, Renly is still in homosexual relations with Ser Loras, which poses both Highgarden and Storm''s End to rebel against the crown. The Tyrells want power and to solidify their rule. This would let them do so, should they succeed. If the Lord of Highgarden is anything like his book or TV counterpart, he''ll be too consumed by the idea of having royal descendants to say otherwise.


    ''Dorne and House Martell have been pretty excommunicado since Robert''s Rebellion given the brutal nature of Elia Martell and her children''s deaths. They blame the Lannisters, and this could be used to my advantage, but it could also be used by Daenerys as a way to gain their support when she invades. The only kingdom to fend against Aegon the Conqueror cannot be allowed to side with the dragons. But to bring them into the fold, Ser Gregor ''The Mountain That Rides'' Clegane needs to be tried and executed for war crimes, by Tywin Lannister won''t let his vicious war beast die so uselessly.


    ''Should there be no trueborn sons of King Robert, Stannis will be compelled by duty to call his bannermen and lay claim to the Iron Throne. The realm would bleed if he succeeds in that attempt. Should there be a trueborn prince, but said prince isn''t the Crown Prince, he will still rebel but in said prince''s favour.


    ''If father dies in the south, I and Robb would be forced to call the banners and march south with the forces of The North and The Riverlands. If things follow as they did in the show or books, one of us would be claimed King in the North.


    ''Then there''s the slimy fuck Petyr Baelish, the piece of shit retard that would start everything by manipulating Aunt Lysa to poison her husband Jon Arryn.


    ''Balon Greyjoy will rise in Rebellion to declare himself King of the Iron Islands once there''s enough chaos in the country. Every land on the west coast will be in danger once that happens, and the scum of the ironborn will steal, murder, **** and destroy.


    ''Mance Rayder the King-Beyond-The-Wall rides south with every fucking wildling there is to seek refuge from the Others, but unless someone like Melisandre can convince Stannis to ride to the Wall, I see little to stop 100 thousand wildlings breaching the Wall when it''s only manned by less than a thousand men split between 3 castles. Even the 700-foot Wall can''t give them that much of an advantage when they''re outnumbered more than 100 to 1.


    ''On the current small council, Renly doesn''t give a damn, Baelish wants chaos, Pycelle is Tywin''s man and by association, Queen Cersei''s, Jon Arryn is incompetent for the most part against Robert Baratheon and Varys only cares about the monarch that is best for the realm.


    ''Should Joffrey or someone like him come into power, Westeros will be torn apart and no one would be prepared for the coming winter as it arrives to fuck as bloody.


    ''I''m already aware of King Robert''s drinking and whoring, so it''s probable that not many are loyal to him and war will ensue with his death, but only after the man dies. I need to consolidate as much power before that happens, but how to do so is a mystery. Otherwise, Westeros will see itself consumed by the warring of at least 6 monarchs, the fields will be burned with Dragonfire, House Stark will die out and the White Walkers would waltz their way down and kill everyone.''


    As his circumstances became clearer to him, his head began to hurt and veins started popping out of his forehead. Torrhen sat on his bed with his head in his hands, despairingly shaking his head when it truly dawned on him how bleak the future to come was.


    ''Basically, unless I can come up with an absolutely genius plan, we''re all fucked come the winter. Great. Just great''

 Plans (2)

    ''Think, Torrhen. Think!''


    His mind was thinking of any possible way to get out of this situation his family faced, but the more he thought, the less he liked his chances. How was he going to become a powerful lord?


    [Why not take your own land?]


    "Who was that!?"


    Torrhen straightened up, his body freezing up in tension. He quickly swivelled his head to search the room and find the source of the voice but to no avail.


    [My lord, I''m Alfred. Alfred Fairfax.]


    "Where are you!? What do you want? How can I hear you so clearly when I can''t see you!?"


    He broke out into a cold sweat. He had no idea what was going on. Regardless of the magic there was in the world he was in, this was still something peculiar and unexpected, its abruptness making it more unnerving.


    [One, I''m inside you. Two, I want you to be strong enough to overcome the coming hardships. Three, because I''m inside you.]


    "How-"


    [Before you continue with that, I must let you know that I can read your thoughts.]


    "And how should I believe that? For all I know, this might be an elaborate plot to kill me. I have no knowledge of who you are, and I don''t trust what you''ve told me so far."


    [Think back to the very first thing I said.]


    ''Huh? The first thing he said? Hmm, ''why not take your own land''...that could have been an answer to the thoughts I was having!?''


    [Precisely.]


    If he was unnerved before, now he was outright terrified. There was no known magic mentioned in either Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire that had to do with reading someone''s thoughts. What could this mean? That I can be read like a book? What extent could there be to this? Have my memories have been scanned? These were the thought swirling through his head. But then he had a moment of clarity.


    ''Alfred Fairfax? Are you the person I gave that name to?''


    [Yes I am, my lord.]


    ''How can I hear you? I''m not in that library.''


    [Oh, but the library is inside you.]


    Images of a bookshelf forcing itself on him from behind flitted across his mind before he immediately put that thought to rest, his bile and innards threatening to spill out from his mouth.


    ''How so?''


    [You are not ready for that information just yet. Actually, you''re not ready for a lot of information yet.]


    ''Well that''s just bloody great, isn''t it! A library with books I cannot gain access to. What a useless library!''


    [But I can still help you greatly for now.]


    ''And how would you do that?''


    [A second opinion and perspective, wealth and magic.]


    ''Whoa! You have magic?''This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    [My lord, I thought the wealth would attract you more.]


    ''Wealth be damned! It''s a youth''s romance to use magic! Tell me, is it powerful? Does it look flashy? Does it have any requirements?''


    The simple mention of magic seemed to have erased all the tension he had been feeling moments ago, leaving him with frantic anticipation. Magic was something he had grown up yearning for, whether in this life or his last, and the thought of using it thrilled him.


    [To explain it, it is nothing simple or eloquent. But it is powerful. Given your strength, there are only a few you can choose. But this can wait for later. I believe we have more pressing concerns. I have read your memories and agree that given the current circumstances, we are in a dire situation, and becoming a powerful lord before your father heads to King''s Landing would be effective in alleviating the detriments to our situation.]


    ''You read my MEMORIES!?''


    He was interrupted by a knock on the door. After being called in by Torrhen, maester Luwin stepped in, holding a thick tome in his hands.


    "As you asked, Torrhen. ''The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms''."


    "Ah, thank you Luwin."


    "Would there be anything else you need?" Luwin asked as he handed the book.


    "I really am sorry Luwin, but, if possible, could I please see a map of Westeros?"


    "A map of Westeros? I believe we only have one, and it''s in your lord father''s possession, " he replied. "Such maps are quite rare, making each one all the more valuable. I''ll see if your father can accept lending it to you."


    With a slight bow, he quickly walked off, no doubt wanted to quickly return to his schedule. Opening up the book, he quickly turned to the pages concerning House Baratheon.


    "Lord Stefforn Baratheon, dark of hair...King Robert I Baratheon, dark of hair. Prince Joffrey Baratheon, golden-haired...Prince Durran Baratheon, dark of hair? Prince Durran? Who the fuck is this!"


    So apparently there''s a dark-haired Baratheon prince. But how this came to be baffled him.


    [Originally, King Robert and Queen Cersei would have a child, only for the child to die in his infancy. Most probably as a result of your existence, that child became King Joffrey''s younger twin.]


    ''My existence?''


    [The history of what you knew and what was were one and the same until the day you were born. In the original way of things, there were never meant to be no Stark twins. As a result of that, a great many things came to change.]


    ''Ah, the butterfly effect. I guess everything before my birth should be the same then?''


    [Yes it should be.]


    ''So everything until the end of Robert''s Rebellion should be the same, then. That would be useful. So, Winterfell and Riverrun are bound by the marriage alliance of my parents. Tywin still sacked King''s Landing, so Dorne still hates the Lannisters for what happened to Elia Martell and her children. Lysa is most likely still unhinged, and Baelish will use this. Both Daenerys and Viserys are across the narrow sea, but it''s still uncertain whether or not ''Young Griff'' still exists. Okay. It''s still very problematic that the first child is Joffrey. What are the damn chances!''


    Flipping the pages to Hous Lannister, what greeted him gave him even more surprise.


    ''Lord Tywin remarried after the rebellion and had two daughters? His second wife died of a fever? What in the fuck is going on!''


    At this point, he was getting quite confused. He realised that there would be more changes to the political layout of the Kingdoms than he thought.


    [This could be useful, my lord.]


    ''Why do you call me ''my lord''?''


    [I saw it in your memories and decided to stick with it. Anyway, this can work out in your favour. Once you become powerful enough, you could marry his daughter, tying the West to the North. It could always prevent someone like King Joffrey from taking your father''s head, given that he would be kin.]


    ''Interesting, but how can I have enough power to marry the daughter of Tywin? Unless...I got it!''


    "The Stepstones!"


    ''If I recall correctly, the Stepstones separated the Narrow Sea from the Summer Sea. A hefty amount of trade from Planky Town, Oldtown, Lannisport, King''s Landing, the Free Cities, Qarth and Slaver''s Bay all passes through this chain of islands. Control the Stepstones, and you control all trade in the area!


    ''Set up taxes in the area and set up farming land on the islands and the gold would keep flowing in. Trade would grow as shipping routes grow more secure. This would bring me riches, riches that could be used to develop a powerful army. There is no way Tywin Lannister of all people would turn a blind eye to this.


    ''If I can successfully get a match with Lord Tywin''s own daughter, I can guarantee some modicum of stability between Houses Stark and Lannister. With Joffrey in the seat of power, I will need every way to prevent his tyranny from executing father. If I become the Queen''s brother-by-law, that should go a long way at that. That and being Lord of the Stepstones.


    ''Alight. Stepstones it is. Alfred, what was that about wealth?''


    [I thought you would never ask. Hidden within is enough gold to make up 1 million gold dragons.]


    ''1 million gold dragons. That should be enough to buy me the ships and men. I will need to look at the map and plan further, but it appears I must make my way to the Stepstones.''