Arthur's POV
As we got closer to the Wall, I could finally take a good look at it, and… damn. I mean, really, damn! This structure was colossal, a true marvel of absurd proportions. Gazing up, I couldn't help but compare it to the towering skyscrapers back on Earth. It looked like it had to be over 200 meters tall, maybe more. It was a vast monument of ice that seemed to swallow the sky.
As we advanced, the sound of my footsteps echoed through the cold, dark tunnel cutting through the center of the Wall. It gave me an even greater sense of the thickness of this structure, like we were walking inside an ice mountain. An inevitable question popped into my mind: who in their right mind would build something like this? And, above all… why? What were they trying to protect themselves from? Godzilla?
Ragnar trotted beside me, while I tried to absorb every detail of this strange place. It was like he felt more at home here than I did—sometimes he seemed more like a dog than a wolf. I couldn't help but smile, realizing my little companion was probably better suited to this world than I was.
Narrator's POV
When the patrol group finally emerged from the tunnel, they stepped out on the other side of the Wall and found themselves facing a fortress worn down by time. It was a structure that, though still standing, bore the marks of constant battle against cold and neglect. It was Castle Black, the main headquarters of the Night's Watch, and Arthur studied it carefully, taking in every detail.
During the journey, the men had already told Arthur about Castle Black and its purpose. The Night's Watch was currently low on resources and manpower, and seeing the current state of the place, Arthur couldn't hide his skepticism; observing the small number of watchmen and the condition of the castle, he wondered how these few men could defend something as vast as the Wall.
The watchmen, on the other hand, looked at Arthur with a mix of curiosity and respect. He was a tall man, physically imposing, with blond hair that stood out in the dim light from the overcast sky. There was something in his presence that hinted at nobility, a confidence they wouldn't usually associate with a wildling. Moreover, his unusual clothes, lightly worn by scratches and cuts, his two swords, and the bear pelt he wore as a cloak all reinforced the impression that he was someone out of the ordinary.
After a while, the leader of the group escorting Arthur returned, accompanied by a burly man with a stern expression and keen gaze. He was an older man, with a thick beard and graying hair that lent him an air of authority. He wore the dark garb of the Night's Watch and carried himself with a rigid posture that revealed his rank. He stopped in front of Arthur, evaluating him with a penetrating look.
"Welcome to Castle Black," said the man in a deep, powerful voice. "I am Lord Commander Alistair Morn of the Night's Watch." He extended his hand, and Arthur shook it firmly.
"Mr. Wayne," Alistair continued, "I want to thank you for saving my men. They told me you were shipwrecked and lost in these lands. It's not common for someone from outside to end up here… especially someone with your skills."
Arthur shrugged with a slight smile. "Let's just say I've been through a few rough spots since I got here."
Alistair nodded, seeming to understand. "Well then, Mr. Wayne. You are our guest at Castle Black. I know our hospitality is limited, but we offer you a safe place to rest until you're ready to continue your journey." He cast a glance at the men around him. "We're an order with few resources, but we have our traditions and values, and your act of bravery will be respected here."
Arthur nodded, pleased with the reception. "Thank you for the hospitality, Lord Commander. A safe place is all I need for now."
The Lord Commander glanced at Ragnar, the wolf trotting beside Arthur, and a faint smile crossed his austere face. "I see you even have a wolf as a companion. Perhaps when you decide to leave, you could head to Winterfell—I'm sure Lord Stark would be interested in meeting you."
The commander's words echoed in Arthur's mind like a bomb going off right there.
Stark? Winterfell?
It was as if something suddenly clicked, like a memory surfacing from the depths. He looked around, and the Wall now seemed even more familiar, like a forgotten fragment of a story he knew all too well.
"Sh*t," he whispered to himself, heart racing. "This is… Game of Thrones?"