With flaming sword and fire whip in hand, Harry set to work against the Wraiths, the men of the Watch at his back and protecting him from any that would try and take him out at his flank.
The Other that had ordered them up the hill hadn't seen the Watchmen before having its Wraiths attack the sorcerer, or perhaps it might have favored a withdrawal over losing the rest of its force.
As that was what happened.
Time passed in a blur as Harry faced off with undead after undead, his ears steadily ignoring the battle cries of his company, instead focusing utterly on the task at hand, loping off heads and setting body after body aflame at the kiss of his cursed fire.
When all that remained of the blue-eyed attackers were smoking, burned-out husks, Harry stood on the edge of the precipice and stared down at the Other and its pale, dead horse, letting out a mighty challenging roar not unlike the lion he had spent so much of his teens being compared to.
The Other merely nodded, acknowledging the field as lost, and melted away into the snow and coming storm.
Perhaps the age of magic and dragons wasn't as gone as the Others had thought.
…
"Damned it we couldn't use your sorcery at Castle Black, Lord Potter-Black." Mormont said once the men had recovered and had whatever wounds needed seeing to healed.
Harry had to laugh at that jab over his titles.
"Maybe so." Harry agreed easily. "But I'm not one to take vows. Especially ones I'm not sure I'll be able to keep, Lord Commander. I'm rather fond of bed-sport you see..." He laughed with a remorseless smirk. "Not to mention children."
"That's a shame." The old warrior shook his head, resting one hand on his pommel of his sheathed sword. "A damned shame. What'll you do now that you're freed from your sleep, lad?"
"Well." Harry said looking off over the frozen landscape. "If I'm not mistaken, there's a war brewing. Sounds like the place for a prophesized warrior, wouldn't you say?"
"Aye." Mormont sighed. "That sounded like the size of it to me. But if you ever decide to take the Black, we'd be glad to have ya lad."
"I'll keep that in mind." Harry gave a half-smile. "A word of advice before we set out for Castle Black: I've heard many things over the ages between my being bespelled and being awakened. The last Long Night was pushed back by the building of the Wall, and kept away by the coming of the Dragons. But before the Dragons came, and Bran built his Wall, the First Men had to fight against the dead that walked and their generals of blue eyes and dead mounts. They did it with something called 'dragon-glass' in addition to fire." Harry looked over at Mormont from his position beside Jon. "Just something to think about in case I'm not there the next time the Wraiths and the Others attack."
"Aye lad." Mormont sighed. "And what of Benjen Stark?" He demanded. "What do you know of him?"
"He hasn't been to my tomb in some time." Harry admitted taking out his wand. "But there's one way to know for sure…" He trailed off, looking over at Benjen's son Jon for permission.
"Point-Me: Benjen Stark."
The wand laid as if dead, not even moving a hair.
Harry looked up at Jon, the other already guessing as to the result of the spell if the look in his eyes was any clue.
"I'm sorry, Jon." Harry clasped one hand to the teen's shoulder, thinking quickly of how to speak his news in a way that wasn't unfeeling but that Jon would understand, switching between Westron and High Valyrian. "He has been called by the Stranger. His watch has ended."
Jon bowed his head, as did many of the others who knew Benjen Stark, the Lord Commander included. After seeing what the mage was capable of not one man among them doubt his words.
"His watch has ended." The others murmured.
"Go on." Harry motioned towards where he could feel the great magic imbued in the Wall. "No point in stumbling about in the Far North when you have your answers, Lord Commander. Jon and I will catch up."
"Aye lad." Mormont nodded his head solemnly. "Aye. You heard 'im, men! Move out! Back to Castle Black!"
:::
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