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THE TRUE NORTH – SKY ABOVE THE LANDS OF ALWAYS WINTER
The sky was a pale abyss.
Snow swirled like spirits dancing in a blizzard's breath, and high above it all, Aeron Grim sat astride the great shadow dragon, the Cannibal, black wings blotting out nothing this time, the shadow dragon was like a black ant in the midst of the massive white sky. No light touched them here. Only white winds and silence.
But Aeron felt it like a ripple in still water.
They were down there.
Presences. Countless. Faint as whispers, cold as death.
He narrowed his eyes, violet light flickering in his gaze. "So many…" he muttered, the words torn away by the wind.
And then the silence shattered.
A whistle in the wind from below.
Spears of ice ripped through the clouds around him like harpoons. One passed so close it sang by his ear. Another grazed his cheek. Time slowed. Aeron turned his head, watching the jagged spear kiss his flesh. It cut deep, a single drop of red running down the curve of his jaw.
His eyes flared bright violet, wild and regal. He did not flinch.
The Cannibal roared an ancient, bone-shaking bellow and with terrifying precision, snapped one of the spears in his jaws, shattering it midair.
Aeron wiped the blood from his cheek and grinned.
"Dive."
The beast obeyed. With wings tucked and fury summoned, the Cannibal plunged downward like a star falling from the sky.
They tore through the clouds and into sight and what Aeron beheld stole the breath from his lungs.
Beneath him stretched a fortress of ice.
Not tents. Not scattered wights and walkers. But walls, glacier-thick walls carved into battlements. Towers sculpted with terrifying purpose. Siege lines built from frozen bone and sharpened frost. Glowing blue eyes dotted the ranks. And all of it protected by an Ice dome.
The undead had not waited idly. They had built all of this.
"Unbelievable…" Aeron whispered, his voice laced with a strange, grim respect.
Then he felt it again. That slow certainty curling in his gut.
'The Night King knew I would come.'
"He really is smart," Aeron muttered.
Then he smirked, dark and savage.
"Too bad for him though."
With a single command, the Cannibal unleashed his fury. His jaws opened wide and black fire poured down like the breath of doom, devouring the sky, a torrent of void-wrought flame that drowned the walls below in smoke and death.
Aeron watched, waiting.
The smoke cleared.
The ice walls still stood. Unharmed.
"...Impossible," he muttered, disbelief curdling into a snarl.
Then more spears flew dozens. A barrage.
He dodged the first, leaning into the Cannibal's dive, his cloak snapping like a banner behind him. The second, he caught midair but the moment it touched his gauntlet, frost spread like poison. It climbed his arm, trying to eat through enchanted armor and flesh alike.
Aeron crushed the spear in his grip shattering it to frozen splinters but the cold remained, crawling further.
He looked at his arm, still steaming with dark mist, and flexed his fingers through the pain. A low growl escaped his throat.
"The bastard is really unpredictable… I have no idea what this is..."
The Cannibal's roar once more. Aeron sat on his back , eyes glowing brighter as he scanned the the fortress of Ice below and the dome above it.
The dragon then soared high through the pale sky, the wind a freezing scream around them. The storm howled, clouds thick and white as death itself. Yet through the haze, Aeron Grim sat still as a statue atop his monstrous mount, his violet gaze narrowing.
"He is not here, But I can't ignore this.." Aeron muttered under his breath, sensing the void where the Night King's presence should have been. His tone was laced with irritation, though not surprise.
But he felt it.
A whisper in the wind. A shift in the stillness. He turned his head sharply, and there they stood ghost-like figures pacing along the battlements of the ice fortress. White-haired. Blue-eyed. Still as statues carved from ancient ice, and just as cold.
"...but his generals are here," Aeron growled, his voice dropping into a guttural rasp. "Which means I'll have to kill a massive number of undead they command, alongside them of course."
He stood upon the Cannibal's back, the wind curling through his cloak of shadows. His gauntleted hand rested on the beast's neck.
"Ignore the wall," he ordered, voice calm and cutting. "We're attacking from above. No fire until I say. The ice is magical so your flames won't break it."
The Cannibal roared once, an ear-splitting cry that cracked the clouds above. Then the shadow-dragon surged higher, wings beating storms into chaos, climbing toward the very heavens.
Ice spears fired once more from the fortress below, scores of them screaming skyward. One tore through the storm and struck the Cannibal's flank, sinking deep into black shadow scales. The beast roared in agony but did not slow.
Aeron said nothing.
Higher still. The clouds thinned.
Then
"Now," Aeron whispered.
The Cannibal folded its wings and dropped like a thunderbolt.
The descent was violent. Beautiful. Apocalyptic.
Spears flew past them. Frost winds howled. And then
CRACK!
The beast collided with the magical dome of ice shielding the walkers fortress. The impact shattered the air. Shards of enchanted frost exploded outward like divine glass. A tremor rippled through the fortress as the Cannibal pierced through, roaring with pain and fury.
They crashed down into the heart of the undead host.
The Cannibal landed like a god of wrath, crushing dozens beneath his weight and claws. The ground trembled. The shrieks of wights rose in a horrid cacophony.
Then Aeron spoke the word.
"Dracarys."
And the world ignited.
The Cannibal unleashed a cone of Blackfire that swept across the ice. Wights burned in silence flesh seared, bones crumbled. The flame bent around enchanted ice but annihilated the ranks caught in the open.
Aeron leapt from his mount mid-breath, landing with a warlord's poise upon frozen ground. In one motion, he extended his hand and the world turned dark behind him.
Shadows poured forth.
An entire legion surged from behind his cloak twisted knights, monstrous beasts, twin-headed hounds, and armored titans. Veydris of Asshai led the charge, silent and brutal.
The shadow legion slammed into the undead with the force of a true wave of death.
Steel clanged. Bone shattered. Wails and roars filled the air as frost clashed with shadow.
Amidst the chaos, Aeron's violet eyes locked with a figure across the field.
A tall shape.
Pale as snow. Blade of ice in hand. Eyes glowing with unholy blue flame.
One of the Night King's lieutenants.
Then another. And another.
Aeron smiled coldly, gripping the hilt of his greatsword. Black flame danced along its edge.
"So be it."
The White Walkers. They moved like death given form pale, graceful, inhuman. Their hair white as frostbite, skin stretched thin like a dead man's parchment. Their eyes glowed with the cold fire of the Great Other himself. Each one held a sword of crystalline ice, carved not by mortal hands but by god of frost.
They descended the steps of the wall in silence, as if the very wind refused to touch them. Their armor glistened.
In a burst of speed, Aeron surged forward, his feet cracking the frost as he shot toward them like a bolt loosed from a bow. His cloak snapped violently behind him. And in that very same moment
The three Walkers leapt to meet him.
They didn't run. They glided across the air, unnatural, almost elegant. They brought their swords down as one, a triple arc of ice meant to cleave through shadow and man alike.
But Aeron met them in the air, his greatsword raised.
CLANG!
All four weapons collided with a thunderous crash that shattered the very air. Sparks and frost exploded outward, the very wind itself knocked back by the force. Darkness and cold collided in an impact that cracked the stones beneath them.
Suspended in the moment, blades locked, snow swirling. Aeron's grin widened, his voice low, filled with venomous awe.
"I see… even his lesser creations are unexpectedly powerful."
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If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Shadow Monarch in DC
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