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SLW Chapter 97 : Children Of The Forest
🕑 Added 2025-07-05 23:49:41 +0000 UTCBEYOND THE WALL – EDGE OF THE HAUNTED FOREST – NIGHTFALL
The cold here bit deeper than mere snow and wind. It gnawed at the soul.
Aeron Grim moved silently beneath the twisted canopy of the Haunted Forest, each step muffled by a thick blanket of frostbitten snow. Above him loomed a colossal, ancient weirwood tree, its pale white bark stained with sap-red tears, face carved deep into the wood like a silent god watching. But it was not the face that drew his attention.
It was the ravens.
Dozens no, hundreds spiraling through the branches, cawing in dissonant chorus, like a warding cry.
Aeron’s violet eyes scanned the tree, narrowing.
“If this isn’t a sign,” he muttered, dismounting Garm with a crunch of boots in snow, “then I don’t know what is. He should be here.”
He stepped forward, his long black cloak dragging frost behind it. In the shadow of the massive tree was a dark cleft in the earth an entrance to a cave, breathing cold air As he approached, Garm growled, low and sharp.
Aeron’s expression darkened. His eyes began to glow faintly, violet light seeping from the edges of his irises.
“Yeah, Garm... I’m sensing it too.”
He closed his eyes, lips curling into a half-smile.
“I suppose they’ve been watching me. Through the ravens. Through the weirwoods.”
He opened his eyes just as firebombs arced from the woods, glimmering orange against the white snow. Aeron did not flinch. One he caught midair, his hand closing around it until the flames hissed and died. Another he let strike a nearby tree shattering bark in a plume of steam.
“Don’t bother hiding,” he said coldly, raising his hand.
Ruler’s Authority.
The very air responded to him. He stretched his palm toward a thicket, and one of the trees shattered, blasted apart into splinters with a roar of magic. From behind it, a small figure stumbled, barely keeping balance in the snow.
In a blur, the figure was yanked forward a silent tug from Aeron’s unseen power. The figure flew through the air until Aeron gripped them by the throat, hoisting them up with little effort.
Their eyes were golden. Their skin was nut-brown skin. Not human.
Aeron studied them.
“Children of the Forest,” he said, intrigued. “First time I’ve seen one.”
Before the creature could speak, more of them burst from the trees, flinging spears of obsidian, firebombs, and darts of glowing moss.
Garm leapt.
The massive shadow direwolf blurred through the snow like a wraith unbound. He collided with one, sending the child crashing into a tree. Another tried to flee but Garm was faster. Way faster. In moments, two of the Children were pinned beneath him, snarling and struggling.
A third raised a glowing root before Aeron’s Ruler’s Authority smashed them into the ground with invisible force.
One tried to crawl back but Garm was already on them, jaws wide, preparing to rip their head clean off with.
“Garm!” Aeron barked.
The wolf stopped mid-snap, his teeth inches from the creature’s head. The Child whimpered, frozen in fear.
“Easy, we don’t have to kill them,” Aeron said, walking forward and placed a hand on Garm’s head, guiding him back. “They’ve misunderstood.”
The wolf reluctantly released the terrified creature and padded back, eyes still glowing.
Aeron turned to the Children. Some stood, defiant even in defeat, others wounded and huddled.
He laughed. Not mocking. More… bemused.
“I didn’t come here to kill you. If I wanted that, I wouldn’t have stopped him.”
His violet gaze locked onto the one he held before, now gasping in the snow.
“I’m here for the Three-Eyed Raven. Nothing more. I know he’s here… or near enough. And you guys are clearly the bodyguards.”
The oldest of the Children, a being with bark growing up her arms like roots stepped forward slowly. She bore no weapon. Her voice was thin.
“You are not of this world, Shadow Lord… but your words are truth. He knew you would come.”
Aeron raised an eyebrow.
“Did he now? Then let’s not waste time.”
He gestured toward the cave mouth.
“Lead the way. Your fuck up creation walk freely, and I’m not fond of standing still while he gathers power.”
Behind him, Garm gave one last low growl as the Children of the Forest retreated, some disappearing into the trees, others slipping silently into the cave their secret realm beneath the frozen earth.
Aeron followed, his boots crunching snow, cloak trailing shadow.
“Let’s see what the last greenseer wants from me...”
****
The further Aeron descended down the cave, the more the air changed.
Gone was the sharp sting of winter’s breathhere, in these ancient tunnels, the cold was older. Deeper. It didn’t chill the flesh so much as it reached for the soul, like time itself had gathered in the stone.
The cave walls were slick with frost and veins of glowing moss and weirwood roots, casting an otherworldly green hue that danced on his armor and the black cloak trailing behind him. Twisting roots as thick as a man’s arm crawled down from the ceiling, some pulsing faintly like veins beneath skin. A hum lingered in the air not sound or magic, yet it felt like both.
“This place…” Aeron muttered, his voice echoing down the narrow passage. “This is old magic.”
He touched the cave wall. The stone rippled faintly under his fingers, as though alive. Eyes glowing softly, he frowned.
“Wardings… Not just for protection. This place doesn't want to be found. doesn’t want to be remembered.”
Behind him, the quiet footsteps of the Children of the Forest padded over the stone with the grace of leaves in wind. One of them a younger one, skin etched with green markings, and a soft voice.
“You said earlier… your creation walks freely..”
Aeron’s gaze shifted over his shoulder, half a smile curling on his lips.
“I did. You created the Night King, after all.”
The child walked beside him now, small and light as a breeze. There was a flicker of shame in her ancient eyes, older than her face.
“We created him to fight the invaders… to stop the bleeding of the land…”
Aeron cut her off, his voice low and direct.
“You created him to defend yourselves when Westeros was invaded by the First Men. When your forests were set aflame. Your gods, these trees chopped down and carved to dust. You were dying. And so you made a weapon.”
He stopped, turning to face her fully, the shadows flickering across his violet eyes.
“I’m not here to blame you. But it was still a fuck up.”
The child flinched slightly not from the words, but from the truth of them.
“The magic we used,” she murmured, “was not meant for such purpose. A power of life… bent to forge death.”
Aeron tilted his head.
“And you lost control.”
A pause.
“Yes.”
The cave widened ahead, revealing a great cavern shaped like the belly of the world. Roots of the weirwood tree above pierced through the stone, hanging down like white tendrils of bone, glowing faintly red where sap ran through them.
Aeron stepped forward slowly, reverently.
“You used life to create death… and the death you made became something beyond your grasp. That’s not just a mistake. That’s a fuck up of epic proportions.”
He looked up, eyes narrowing at a carving etched into the wall, spirals, ancient runes, shapes of men and beasts.
“But all of this, prophecy and fate... all of it can be broken. And I’ll break this one for good.”
Aeron’s boots echoed against the stone as he moved deeper, the Children of the Forest said nothing now, trailing behind him in solemn silence. They knew this path. They had walked it before.
His violet eyes glowed faintly, his senses heightened the pressure in the air shifted. The walls were breathing. The magic grew thicker here, older…
Then
A voice. Not heard. Not spoken. But felt.
“Lord of Shadows… welcome.”
Aeron froze mid-step.
His breath misted, though the air was still.
His eyes narrowed, gaze scanning the far end of the path ahead of him. he knew it didn’t come from the stone. Not from the Children.
“There you are…” he whispered aloud, a half-smirk forming on his lips.
“The Three-Eyed Raven.”
There was no reply. Only a faint tremor in the roots.
