Sothoryos IX
The night in Sothoryos, the Green Hell, was full of terrors. Roars of hunting beasts, shrieks of vampire bats, and occasionally, huge rumbling sounds, as if something huge was destroying trees in its path. Jon had grown accustomed, especially to that feeling of being watched from time to time.
And right now, Jon found himself sitting at the entrance to his tent, with a stick he had sharpened at one end, where he had a skinned snake and was cooking it over a campfire.
The gauge for his first mission was currently at five. He had managed to kill five snakes before nightfall came. And of all those snakes, only one was edible, according to his book. The other four were so poisonous, that eating them could kill you at worst, while at best, it would make you sick. He even had to carefully clean his sword, as he did not want poison on it.
"Mmm..." Jon tilted his head slightly, leaving the stick with the snake meat stuck in the ground, a little away from the fire. He didn't want it to burn. And so, while he let the meat cook, he decided to take out a thin cinnamon stick, which he began to carefully peel with his sword.
According to the book, you had to do exactly that, before cutting small slices. After that, you should carefully roll them up before letting them dry. He wanted to place the cinnamon near the fire, so he would have some the next morning. But not too close either, since just like with the meat, he didn't want it to ruin. And while he could burn some to create aroma, he wouldn't do it now.
For Jon, it was a little relaxing. It felt somewhat similar to carving his wolf figurine, which he had left on his nightstand, back in Winterfell. He had started that little figurine, to entertain himself a little, and forget a few things for a moment. And as he cut thin sheets, he thought of other things in Winterfell. His family. Even though Eddard Stark was apparently not his real father, his siblings were still an important part of Jon's life. Arya, with her fierce demeanor. His brother, Robb, the obedient one who wanted to make his parents proud. Sansa, who was the most like his mother. The perfect young lady, daughter of a noble and powerful family. He missed them, despite everything they were different from him.
Jon had gotten used to his current life, more or less. His goal was already in the south of Sothoryos, in the land of eternal spring. He hoped to settle down for a while, and then continue his adventure through the world. Ulthos seemed to be what was next, so he could reach the shadowy lands of Asshai. From there he could travel through Essos, until he crossed into Westeros. That would take years, he knew perfectly well, but he wanted to do it.
This was the trip of his life.
But despite everything, he missed things from his old life: the training in the courtyards of Winterfell, the jokes he made with Robb from time to time, the warm and good tasting meals. The warm waters where he could immerse himself and let his tiredness melt away. Many things he had had, but not now.
Jon smiled a little before he put down the thin cinnamon roll number twenty, to proceed to put away what was left of the branch. He took the stick with the meat, smelled it and looked at it a little. He decided to take a small bite, to taste.
"Eh, it tastes a little like chicken," Jon laughed a little before taking a larger bite. It was cooked enough, so it was not a problem to continue eating. And so he did, devouring the meat in a couple of minutes. Afterwards, he drank a few sips of water, which he had obtained from that lake. He never drank too much, always taking small sips, to ration a little and make it last longer.
And so, after he had eaten, he went further into his tent, closed the entrance and got into his sleeping bag. It was time for a rest.
. . .
The sound of insects echoed outside his tent, while in the distance, the rustling of trees, branches, and bushes made the nighttime atmosphere more than a little eerie. However, what kept Jon's eyes open was the sound of footsteps outside his tent.
He had already gotten out of his sleeping bag and was on one knee, holding the handle of his sword tightly inside its sheath. The leaves rustled slightly and a shadow could be seen, as his fire and the moonlight illuminated the outside a little.
"Is it one of those animals that accompany the Sothoryi?" he wondered, seeing the shadow of what looked like a large four-legged animal.
When he saw the animal begin to circle his tent and pass by the back, he moved to carefully exit. He immediately unsheathed his sword and waited a bit. It was only a second or two until he could see the animal a little. It was just its head, but Jon gasped a little.
It wasn't dark and full of wildness like the big black cat, this animal was white, with black lines. It had blue eyes and was almost as tall as him. While the dark animal he encountered a while ago gave off a completely wild feeling, this one gave off a feeling of majesty.
When its body fully appeared from behind the tent, Jon could only think that it was a beautiful, powerful, and majestic beast. But, as he admired the animal, his hairs stood on end. His body moved out of pure instinct, taking two steps back. His eyes widened as he saw something pass inches from his face, hissing loudly.
Jon knew someone was nearby and tried to move immediately. But, in a moment, the animal had jumped on him. He tried to swing his sword immediately, but fell on his back, with the animal's paws squeezing his arms tightly on the ground. The beast's mouth came close to his face, baring its sharp teeth and growling in threat.
He stared, a little scared, but also confused. For a second, he thought he was going to die, but the animal simply stared at him with those bright blue eyes. It had an almost intelligent look. It was as if it knew...
Jon stopped thinking when he heard footsteps again. He tried to move his head to the side, but the animal prevented him from doing so, growling louder. Soon, a sword was placed at his neck as a voice spoke. It was different from what the Sothoryi spoke. It was different from the common language spoken in Westeros. Different even from the little he knew of the ancient language.
The animal, little by little, retreated, at the same time that a bow and arrow was pointed at him from the other side where the sword came from. And only after that, Jon was able to raise his gaze more, observing the attackers. His mouth remained open and his eyes wide. They were... They were... he couldn't say exactly. The fire illuminated their golden hair, and he could also see long ears that ended in points. Their eyes were simply beautiful, the brightest, most vivid shade of green, almost like the leaves of a well-tended tree, shining in the sunlight. Their skin was white, almost like milk.
He soon snapped out of his shock, when the person on the left, who was holding the sword, shouted something loudly at him. Jon looked at him confused, not knowing how to respond.
"I... I... don't understand," he said, getting confused and surprised looks from both people. The two looked at each other for a few seconds, before the one with the sword spoke once again, but now in the common tongue.
"Who are you? What are you doing here? And what do you have to do with the abominable stinking men?!"
Jon gulped, confused by these people. However, he slowly answered the questions.
"My name... my name is Jaehaerys Targaryen. I... I appeared here one day, in Sothoryos. I have nothing to do with those men who use magic! I even had to kill some of them, when they tried to kill me a while back. I've tried to survive this place for several moons..."
"Jaehaerys Targaryen... I don't recognize the first or last name. Where are you from?"
"Westeros... in the north. I don't know how I ended up here. One night, I just went to sleep in my room, and when I woke up, I found myself in the northern part of Sothoryos, near a ruined city. I... I didn't know what to do, so I moved further south, where I found a temple built out of dark rocks. And just recently, I passed near a walled city, made out of the same rocks."
"Westeros? Where is that?" the person with the bow asks, confused and curious. Jon looked at her, his hands on the side of his head, so they could see that he would do no wrong.
"It's... further west of Essos," he replied, but only got more confused looks.
"Can... can you be more specific? I don't recognize any of those names."
"I don't know if you have a map of the world. But, where I come from, this continent is mostly unknown. And above it, there is another continent that we know as Essos. To the west of Essos, lies Westeros. I lived in the north of Westeros."
"I see... I understand you. It seems that we have different ways of calling the continents. You say that you don't know how you got here?"
"That's true. It was like... I was simply transported from one side of the world to the other, in just one night. I've had to survive things I've never seen in my life. And look at that tent: it's one of the things that was next to me when I woke up. It's like something had been helping me throughout the journey."
The one holding the sword narrowed his eyes and looked at the tent. He then examined Jon more closely, noticing his dirty clothes and the sword that had small broken pieces on its blade.
"May...may I know who you are? I've never seen people with long ears, much less an animal like that. You even know how to speak common!"
The person with the bow looked at the other for a few moments, until the other nodded. The bow moved before it was placed on the back of that person, who soon extended his hand towards Jon.
Jon, who saw this, sighed in relief as he took the hand. In a moment, he was standing, looking better at these two people. They wore leather and cloth clothes of green and white. Both were... well, Jon couldn't tell if they were men or women.
"My name is Jarod Bluewater," said the one with the sword in his left hand.
"And I am Saynna Featherbow," said the one with the bow. It seems that the former was a man, while Saynna was a woman. Or so Jon thought, thanks to the names. Honestly, he still didn't know much about the continent. And perhaps, the customs with names, were different for the culture of the two people in front of him.
"As you know, I am Jaehaerys Targaryen. You can call me Jon, if it's too complicated."
"So, Jon, have you seen anything of the stinking men? We have left our city to look for our rangers, who have not returned for days. They should have reported in."
Jon frowned, before shaking his head.
"A while ago, I don't remember how long exactly, I came across dark-skinned men who used fur to dress themselves. One of them, had a staff with a skull on it. He also used what I think is blood magic. He was able to reanimate an animal like a cat, dark in color."
"Those are the stinking men," Jarod frowned. "You said you passed through a walled city."
"Yes. I climbed a tree so I could see inside the walls. There were temples in several directions, with a huge one in the center. I could see the same type of people from afar, but I didn't go in. I knew it would be too dangerous to attempt such a thing."
"And you would be right!" Jarod said, with a bit of strength in his voice. "Those abominable ones, they serve the stinking god. An ancient being that spreads only rot and death to its surroundings. They sacrifice themselves to their god, to gain more power and continue to survive."
Saynna shook her head, a bit of sadness staining her eyes. She said, "Further east, the forest is almost dead. Their magics have infected nature, leading to their early death. It's disgusting. Bad."
"It seems that magic is more dangerous than I imagined..." Jon muttered.
"You don't know about magic?" Saynna asked.
"Not really. I've only heard simple things. Like blood magic, it needs blood," Jon smiled a little embarrassed. "Where I come from, magic is like it's extinct. No one uses it. And the people of the Faith of the Seven don't seem to like talking about it. Although, further north in Westeros, where I lived, there are more stories. It is said that the children of the forest were the most powerful, being able to see the future, slip into the minds of beasts, and have certain powers over nature."
Jarod and Saynna looked at each other before the former decided to speak.
"What are the children of the forest like?"
"Um... the stories say, that they are small, almost like a child, with brown skin like tree bark, or sometimes, like the skin of a deer. Large ears that can hear things no man can hear. It is also said that they weave flowers and leaves into their hair," Jon replied, telling everything he had heard about the children of the forest.
"I see... so, it seems that we are connected in some way."
"What do you mean?" Jon asked, confused.
Jarod raised a hand and placed it in the center of his chest, pointing at himself.
"We are... well, in your language, it is called Elven. We are a race that was born thousands of years ago, with the help of what you call children of the forest. We learn the true language, but thanks to our connection with the land and nature, we can speak any language, even understand animals. That is why we understand each other so fluently now."
"Another race..."
"Does it bother you?"
"Not really. I'm more surprised than anything else. Since I got here, I've discovered magic, beasts, trees, and plants that I've never seen in my life, let alone heard of."
Jarod nodded with a small smile.
"You have some connection to nature too, I can feel it."
"Me?" Jon asked in surprise. "Um... well, I'm descended from the First Men, who came to Westeros first, long, long ago. They had trouble with the Children of the Forest, before they eventually made peace."
Jarod nodded.
"Tell me, Jon. Would you come with us? We still need to look for clues about our rangers, but you could accompany us to our home, afterward. You look like you need a break."
"Would that be okay...? I mean, I'm a complete stranger."
Saynna smiled and said, "We're strong enough. One person wouldn't do anything to our home. Besides, you're the first of another race we've found near our land. I'm sure the elders will be curious."
Jon nodded slowly.
"I'll accept your help. Thank you very much," Jon said, actually relieved to be able to go with Jarod and Saynna.
Jarod nodded before whistling. At that moment, an animal similar to the one that attacked him appeared from the bushes.
"What are they exactly?"
"White tigers. Aren't there any where you come from?"
"I heard that on the continent of Essos, there are those. But I think they were orange."
"Those would be normal tigers. It seems like we can have interesting conversations about what is or isn't in your home, Jon."
"Indeed."
"We can't waste too much time either, Jarod."
"You're right. Sorry, Saynna."
Saynna nodded before climbing onto one of the white tigers.
"Come here, Jon. Silverfang will get us faster to the locations where our rangers usually patrol."
Jon, who put his sword in its sheath, hesitated for a few moments, until he carefully climbed up behind Jarod.
"Come on, buddy," Jarod muttered, causing the white tiger, Silverfang, to lurch forward. Jon's eyes widened at the speed at which they were moving. The trees around them seemed to blur as they sped past.
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