[Chapter Size: 2108 Words.]
Jon Snow POV
Somewhere on North....
...
The brightness of the space around me gradually faded, leaving me enveloped only by silence and the endless snow of the sky. Before me stretched majestic mountains, gentle hills, slender trees, and some dense forests, but there was no sign of civilization in the vicinity. I hadn't breathed this familiar air for years, and the atmosphere stirred long-buried memories of my childhood in Winterfell. However, I had never left the confines of Winterfell, so I found myself disoriented as to which part of the North I was in at this moment.
As I assessed my own condition, I realized I was shirtless, wearing only pants and unarmed. Upon returning to this world, I was compelled to abandon all my possessions in Skyrim; at least the Daedric Princes had the decency not to leave me completely naked when sent here. I fixed my gaze on the highest point and decided to make my way there, seeking guidance from the altitude. It was a small 300-meter cliff, and not knowing exactly how to start the climb, I improvised using the nearby rocks. I wondered about the impression I would make on any observer in Westeros encountering a shirtless man climbing rocks in the heart of the northern cold. My resistance to the cold was about 50% as a Nord and a Stark—not that all Westerosi Nords were like that, but I gained this ability as soon as I entered Skyrim. Despite this resistance, I invoked a skin spell to mitigate the impact of the frigid environment, which left me quite comfortable.
The climb took about 20 minutes, but I felt no fatigue. In fact, I experienced an unusual excitement; it was good to be back in a place you haven't set foot in for over a decade, although I knew that nothing would be as it once was. My enemies, whether my uncle, his ally on the throne, or all those who participated in the plot that led to my father's death and consequently my mother's, as well as the horrible death of my half-siblings, would have something to say, and I would collect from them with interest. Their fate would be sealed once I set foot on this soil again. Revenge was a debt that I, at least, should honor on behalf of those who lost their lives to others' ambitions, no matter the chaos I would create on this continent.
Upon reaching the summit, I was engulfed by a scene that took my breath away. Before me stretched mountain ranges reaching kilometric heights, lush forests, winding rivers, and an endless expanse of snow covering all horizons. Amazed, I couldn't help but reflect on how far I was from my point of origin. "At least I'm still in the north," I murmured to myself. My vision, enhanced by experiences in Skyrim, far surpassed that of an ordinary human. I sought to discern details in the vastness around me, observing the wildlife blending into the landscape. However, what caught my attention was a faint smoke rising among the trees; someone or a group was camping. Without hesitation, I charted a course to the location, about 4 kilometers away, eager for my first encounter after my return.
As I walked, I summoned four spectral wolves to scour the area. I was a conjuration and alteration expert, a powerful archmage feared not only in Skyrim but throughout Tamriel for my mastery of these schools, among my other specialties.
For an hour, I leisurely traversed the semi-nude ice, barely feeling the temperature thanks to the spell I had cast. My natural and spell-enhanced resistance to the cold, coupled with my fiery temperament, made the walk more comfortable. At that moment, I allowed myself a brief reflection on my own memories of who I used to be and who I am now. Recalling the time when I was a shy and quiet child, I realized that over a decade of adventures had shaped my personality. Today, I considered myself an arrogant person, constantly seeking battles and challenges, whether against humans, monsters, dragons, demons, or even gods. Adapting to the blood-boiling fights over the years elevated my instincts to a new level. I now walked without excessive concerns for my surroundings, my wolves patrolling the area, and my body naturally alert to any surprises that might launch against me.
YOU ARE READING
Game of Thrones: The Dragonborn.
FanfictionJon Snow is a Dragonborn after 2 millennia without another appearing, an identity that is neither on the light side nor the dark side, only caring about his own goals before wanting to be good or evil. Some may label him a demon while others a hero...