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CHAPTER 278 The Curious Ranger

297 AC

POV THIRD PERSON

Aermir waited for the great loss and emptiness to envelop him as he had lost his familiars. As the great sadness and emptiness he anticipated did not descend upon him, an eerie calm settled over his troubled mind. The absence of that familiar ache, the petrifying feeling of loss he experienced when Lyka fell, was apparent in its absence. Even as the last of his familiars succumbed to the onslaught, the overwhelming grief he expected failed to manifest.

In the quiet recesses of his mind, Aermir began to question this anomaly. "Why don't I feel it?" The realization, a peculiar detachment from the anticipated sorrow, tugged at the corners of his consciousness. The battlefield, the swirling chaos, and the relentless advance of the Night King seemed to blur as Aermir grappled with the mystery of his emotions.

"It's not right. I should be drowning in sorrow, in agony, but it's not there." He could feel the excruciating pain of the ice dagger in his stomach, so this was not a dream, but he could see the lifeless bodies of his familiars and didn't feel that crippling pain.

The unnatural calmness, the absence of the emotional storm he anticipated, became a paradox in the face of impending doom. So rather than listening to Night King, he reached into himself to the tethers that bound his familiars to him, and they were still there. He reached out, but they didn't answer, as if something was blocking the way.

He opened his eyes and faced the Night King. The pain of the dagger in his gut assailed his senses again, but the feeling of failure and defeat was not there anymore. "How are you doing this? None of this is real, but Aaırhh!.. but I can still feel this dagger. This is not a dream, astral travel, or teleportation. What is this?"

A fleeting doubt flashed over Night King's eyes, but he slammed him to a big rock and tightened his grip on Aermir's neck. "Do not resist; you cannot win! You will only struggle in vain and experience more pain."

Even if Aermir was feeling great pain from all of this, he stopped struggling; he was just thinking of ignoring the Night King in front of him.

"This is not real, but why does it still feel like it is real?"

At that moment, it dawned on him, "I still didn't break the connection with the mark; you are using that to enter my mind. We are inside my mindscape."

Aermir closed his eyes and imagined himself taking control of reality. His will was supreme in this place, and the Aermir inside Night King's grip turned into dust, and then he reappeared a few meters away.

"This is why you didn't just cut my head off, or I would have realized this is not real; you were trying to make me give up on life. That is why you were so chatty."

At that moment, Aermir realized how close he was to dying. Night King almost killed his will to live. He waved his hand, and a giant rock stake penetrated Night King's chest, but like he was made out of sand, he just walked out of it.

"So we cannot kill each other without breaking our will to live. Now I know it is fake; you cannot break me."

Night King smiled arrogantly and said, "Hmph, I will bring the eternal night." then he dissipated like the snow. Aermir broke free from the mindscape and opened his eyes. Gasping for breath, his senses reeled from the close encounter with the Night King's insidious designs. The watchful gaze of his familiars surrounded Aermir, and all of their eyes were full of worry.

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He was still under the weirwood tree by the Fist of the First Men. His familiars were all around him, bombarding him with questions; Aermir could feel their anxiety. Artio and Berus anxiously rubbed their faces against his. Aermir sighed and, while rubbing their heads, said,

"It was a close call, but I'm here. I am fine, really."

Poe landed on top of Aertio's head and said, "Father, we couldn't reach you. We could sense you, but something was blocking our way."

Imu said, "Masster, by the rootss, you were losst to uss! What happened?" Aermir told them what he had experienced and how Night King almost managed to kill him. He was inches away from dead, and even now, he shuddered when he thought about it. Because Night King had used the marking curse as a spark to connect their minds, the curse had failed and cleansed when he pulled back.

Artio growled and said, "That cursed Night King... I am going to bite his head off. Master, I will protect you." Aermir smiled at Artio's innocent reaction; she was still growing, and childish reactions were expected of her. When Aermir smiled at her wearily, she defended her honor,

"What! I will... I will bite his head off. I promise!"

"Okay, okay, Artio can protect me."

Poe cut them off, "Master, we have some visitors. They have been here for half an hour, but because you were not moving, they kept their distance."

...

Bran Rivers was doing his patrol around the Fist of the First Men. The freezing night wind was cutting at his face as he walked along the narrow path along the slopes of the steep hill. He looked up towards the summit, and he could see the torchlight of the outpost as small dots in the dark night.

While walking up the grove at the foot of the hill, the dark night was suddenly illuminated with verdant lights. A pillar of verdant light rose to the night sky right at the other side of the hill where the weirwood tree was. Brandon was never a faithful believer of the Old Gods, but this thing before his eyes could be nothing but divine.

He was hesitant, but his curiosity was pulling him there. It could be dangerous, but he knew if he didn't go there now, he would regret it for the rest of his life. He had to know what was causing this.

...

Brandon crawled among the tall bushes and looked toward the source of the pillar. It was right next to the weirwood tree, and other than the light, the animals around it pulled his attention, too. There were ravens as big as eagles, a snow owl, a giant shadowcat, a giant wolf or a dog, and a black bear as big as a polar bear. They had created a cordon around the pillar as if they were sentinels. Their watchful eyes were looking in every direction.

Brandon was a veteran ranger, so he had many years of experience scouting Wildlings and tracking animals, but he had never seen those animals together and cooperating peacefully. At that moment, he realized there was someone inside the light. Bran could see the silhouette of a human. He remembered the tales about the Druid and how he commanded many sacred animals bigger than their natural counterpart.

Brandon thought he was well hidden and was observing what was happening, but at that moment, he realized the shadowcat was not there anymore. As he was trying to find it, he felt a warm flow of air right at the nape of his neck. He turned around and, like a fash, pulled his dagger. His eyes met with the giant shadowcat. The beast's eyes were cold; it felt like it was looking down on him and growled toward him. He froze, didn't know what to do.

If the stories about the Druid's animals were true, they were impervious to weapons. Brandon slowly put his dagger to the ground; he knew if the beast pounced, he stood no chance; he was going to show he didn't mean any harm. The beast circled around him with a deathly grace, and in the blink of an eye, it disappeared behind a tree, like it just turned into smoke and flew away.

Then he heard a growl behind him; Brandon turned and looked. The shadowcat was around 10 meters away from him. This terrified him; he didn't feel a thing. He didn't hear any movement in the snow, and this giant beast didn't leave any tracks like it had no weight. It stood between him and the weirwood tree and swung its tail like a whip to the snow-covered ground, creating a line.

It stood at the other side of the line, and while pawing the line, it growled at Brandon. Then, it turned around and disappeared into the woods. A few seconds later, it reached the weirwood tree and was still looking toward Brandon. He realized he had been warned; if he passed that line, he didn't want to imagine what that thing would do to him. He was terrified, but he couldn't leave. He sighed, "This was what it meant: curiosity killed the cat."

He retreated a bit more and continued watching from a distance. He heard the sounds of more Night's Watchmen coming from the top, and he hurried to warn them and tell them what was happening.