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(EM Vol. 2: A Wandering Melody) Chapter 115: A Frozen Hollow
🕑 Added 2025-12-04 14:00:13 +0000 UTCChapter 115: A Frozen Hollow
123 AC, Frostfangs, Beyond the Wall
Harry answered his question by turning to Leaf, “Your people really went overboard when they destroyed the Other’s settlement, didn’t they?” Cregan gulped and nodded, unable to refute the sorcerer's claim. The Elder Child of the Forest had truly understated things when she said that the settlement had been destroyed.
Cregan walked alongside his companions into the giant valley before him, realising that he had set foot in the Lands of Always Winter. He was likely the first Stark to have done this for thousands of years, possibly even one of the few men who had done so since the Wall was built, or at least, who lived for long enough to tell their tale. Few returned from the Frostfangs, but even that number vastly exceeded that of the fools who went to the Lands of Always Winter.
Then again, looking at the sight around him, he couldn’t help but doubt that anyone would have returned.
He remembered one of his ancestors, a Brandon Stark named after the Builder, like much of his kin liked to do, who had tried to lead an expedition to see beyond the Lands of Always Winter, as he was convinced that there could be farmable land on the other side. It was barely more than a footnote in his House’s history, but he had voyaged, only never to be seen again. A few of his companions returned, claiming that all they had found was ice and coldness, only to have gotten separated by a sudden snowstorm.
He doubted their tale now. The sight before him was definitely unique enough to be easily described. And yet, Cregan did not see any mention of the giant valley beyond the Frostfangs. They had likely killed Cregan’s ancestor before they even crossed the Frostfangs.
If it had been any other time, he would have likely found the sight to be strangely beautiful, though its origin was much less so. It was not hard to realise what the Elder Child of the Forest had left unsaid, that this was the work of her kind during a very bloody war. If he had to guess, he would imagine it having been something akin to the Shattering of the Arm of Dorne, being performed as an attack against the Others who had threatened their way of life, resulting in a beauty born of horrors.
As they walked down the giant valley, all of whom seemed to be entirely made of ice, the distant light of the sun, which peered through the foggy skies, reflected beautifully on shards of ice, making colours shift with every look. Even if the cold was biting in a way that Cregan had not expected, the Potters’ magic was compensating for it.
Alas, the constant humming of the medallion on his chest and that of the Builder’s sword, the original Ice, soured the beauty of his surroundings. Strangely, the dagger that Potter had given him seemed to be heating up, as opposed to shaking around. Potter had claimed that it was made of the same material as Ice and his medallion, which he had stolen from the Citadel, something that the sorcerer still hadn't elaborated on much. Though he was not sure about what made it different.
Then again, Cregan could hardly be called knowledgeable in the matter of magic, so he could not truly comment on that. It seemed like a fine weapon, even if he did not know why Potter had thought that he would need it.
It was a reminder of where he was, at his greatest enemy’s home, and the danger that awaited them. Then again, he did not think he would have made it anywhere near this far if it weren’t for the Potters. It truly was a wonder that just a few days prior, they were at the Wall, after which they had traversed the Haunted Forest twice to get to Hardhome.
Truly, if Potter could do the same to an army, that would make him one of the most important men in Westeros, even if he could not perform any other magic. Of course, that did not matter, as Cregan had seen him slay a dragon the size of a mountain in minutes, and he did not think that the sorcerer cared much for the opinion of Westeros’ nobility.
Speaking of the Potters, they had started acting strangely ever since the conversation with the Other. There was something that truly rattled the man, which Cregan simply could not comprehend.
The Others were monstrous creatures who wished to snuff away everything with warm blood in its veins. The idea that they would make monsters that seemed like them was not truly that far-fetched, especially since Harry did not seem bothered by the prospect of raising Wights.
In fact, in Cregan’s opinion, what he had learned in the conversation was extremely positive. The Others seemed to have a population problem that they were trying to solve. He had cursed the Potters inwardly as their actions in Valyria precipitated so many of the messes that he ended up dealing with, both the wildling migration and the possible second Long Night. Sure, they were inevitable, but he did not have the time to prepare a suitable response to them.
However, if they had pushed the Long Night to a later date, perhaps the dragon at Hardhome would have brought down the Wall, and the Others would have solved their population problem, which would have resulted in a far smaller chance of victory.
Harry did not seem to share that sentiment, his eyes having hardened since the meeting had ended, which did not bode well for them if history was to be repeated.
Curious and slightly concerned, he walked up to his wife and asked, while gazing at him, “Is he well?”
A sad smile grew on the golden-haired woman’s face, “He will be. There are very few things that truly get under Harry’s skin. What he just realised in this cave is one of them.”
“I don’t understand. I am not an expert in magicks, but I have heard tales of practices in Essos, and Harry did not seem perturbed by Wights overmuch. How is this different?”
“Ah. That is quite a subtle distinction. Let me answer you with a question of my own. Harry claimed that Others had twisted souls to create the creature that we met. Now, tell me, what abundance source of souls exists North of the Wall, ones who are intelligent enough to be effective weapons?”
The realisation took far too long for Cregan’s liking. Perhaps it was some kind of unconscious denial that prevented him from doing so, for there was a single species that fit all of these criteria, “Wildings. These creatures were Wildings?”
The woman sombrely nodded, “Yes, they were. Most think that sacrificial magics work using the souls of the victims. They would be incorrect, very much so. No one even has to die if you do it correctly, for it is the concept of loss that powers the magic, not the sacrifice itself. However, a few circumvent it with sheer quantity, by using something potent like human lives. Killing someone in a ritual means the sacrifice of their potential. You would steal away their possible lifespan, their possible feats, which is potent, but the soul remains untouched.”
“And that is not the case here.”
“It is not,” the witch confirmed, “They stole the souls of men, women, and children, and twisted them, warping them, to fit their creatures. Can you imagine that everything that you are, being changed to fit a creature that is not who you are, a prison in foreign flesh, while everything inside you wishes to do nothing but scream. It shouldn’t have even happened. The souls should have moved on the moment that they became untethered, and yet, they did. And Harry can hear it, the screaming, the suffering, of countless creatures inside these mountains, likely even beyond. It would have driven most people insane.”
Cregan winced at this and turned towards the sorcerer in caution. He was not shaking in madness like his wife said that he should be. Instead, he seemed far more driven, with a blank expression on his face, staring at the darkness ahead with an intensity that he had never seen in the man.
He heard Daphne snicker behind him, “Worried about my husband, are we? Don’t worry, we’ve seen enough in both our lifetimes to leave most men curled up in a corner, crying for their mothers.” Her smirk faded a heartbeat later, replaced with something softer. “We always take turns making sure that we pull each other from the brink, though I have to say that this is the first time that I’ve seen him this angry since we set foot in Westeros.”
Cregan glanced back at Harry, watching the man walk ahead of them without a word, his posture rigid, his focus fixed entirely on the shadowed depths of the impossible valley, as if seeing something that the rest of them couldn’t.
For some reason, it unsettled Cregan more than the prospect of facing the Others, “What will he do?”
Daphne stepped beside him, following her husband with a gaze far more knowing than Cregan could ever match. “What he always does,” she said softly. “He will find out everything about the Others, everything that we still do not know. He will figure out the source of their power, their connections to the Outsiders, the rest of the methods to their magic, and then… And then, he will kill them all.”
Cregan couldn’t help but shiver at the tone near the end, not because Daphne sounded angry, but because she didn’t. She was not boasting, but mostly describing something that seemed inevitable, something that she had seen hundreds of times before.
The young man opened his mouth, wishing to say something, anything, really, to respond to her comment. Perhaps he wished to tell her that they were battling a foe that even the full might of the Age of Heroes, men and Children of the Forest alike, could not fully defeat, that they were just four of them, a descendant of the First Men, a Child of the Forest, and two sorcerers, against the very might of winter, that victory was not assured.
However, the words simply did not leave his mouth, and whatever he planned on saying disappeared completely as both Potters suddenly turned to one another, while still continuing walking. The only sign that something had happened was that his medallion shook abruptly before calming down.
Daphne was the one to break the silence, “I’m guessing you felt that.”
Harry snorted, “Of course I have. It is rather unsubtle, don’t you think?”
“Arrogance or confidence,” she asked.
“Confidence, I’d say. We’re in the middle of their realm, where they are at their strongest. I’m guessing that they waited this long to figure out how we got here in the first place to stop us from escaping.”
Confused, Cregan turned back to look at the Frostfangs, only to freeze as he realised that he couldn’t see them, just an endless white mist on the horizon.
He turned to warn the Potters, but they didn’t seem particularly concerned. Daphne hummed in agreement and asked, “So, what’s the plan?”
“What makes you think that I have one?” Harry asked jokingly, though Cregan did not think it was appropriate.
Both husband and wife stood in silence before they both burst into laughter, uncaring as the wind suddenly picked up in an intensity that made Cregan brace himself.
If they were not their only chance at survival, Cregan would have punched them. Thankfully, their laughter quickly abated, and the man finally answered, “Do you remember Nurmengard?”
The young man was not familiar with this name, but Daphne definitely was, given that it wiped out any amusement from her face, “Are you serious? I know that you’re angry, Harry, but this is a terrible idea.”
Harry simply shrugs, “It’s the best one we have. They already know that we’re coming, and our destination is pretty obvious. They do have command over this realm, which increases as we get closer. And you’ve seen what the Other did to its reflection in the Frostfangs.”
“You think that they will collapse this realm out of spite,” Daphne stated.
“I think that they would try. The Other did not even hesitate the moment he realised that we were a threat to his people. Unfortunately, the Wall isn’t strong enough to stop something like this from spreading, even if we slow it down. I’d rather not be responsible for an entire world being wiped out.”
Cregan coughed at this and looked at the Potters in horror. Leaf seemed to share that sentiment as well, as she spoke up, “You did not tell us of this.”
Harry rolled his eyes at them, “Relax. I told you that I have a plan.” He then turned towards Cregan, “Speaking of plans, do you mind lending me Ice for a bit. Don’t worry, I’ll give it back.”
The young Stark hesitated for a moment before Harry scoffed, “Kid, do you really think that the sword would even let me use it without your permission. The moment that you need it, you can call it back to you, as you had in Hardhome.”
Cregan nodded and slowly put his ancestral weapon in the sorcerer’s hands, which he put in a scabbard that he created out of thin air and spoke to Cregan one last time, “Make sure to keep the dagger that I gave you, on your person at all times. It’s a pretty special one if I say so myself.”
The young man patted his hand to grab the dagger, which heated up in his hands as if it was reassuring him. The sorcerer turned to his wife and asked, “Do you have your wedding ring on you?”
“Always,” Daphne answered before her face softened, “Don’t get hurt.”
“I promise that I won’t,” he answered cheekily before leaning in to kiss her. Cregan turned towards Leaf, feeling slightly awkward by the public display of affection. However, he stopped when he realised that the Child of the Forest was staring in the distance with an expression of horror on her face.
The young Stark followed her gaze and froze as well, as where the endless darkness stood, there was a faint curtain of blue light, illuminating it, the glow getting brighter with every moment, “What is that?”
Cregan instinctively turned to Harry for answers and suppressed a flinch as he stared at the man’s face. Whatever warmth had lingered from speaking with his wife vanished, replaced by a focus so sharp that Cregan felt it like a blade against the back of his neck.
“My guess would be the Heart of Winter. It seems like they’re done waiting.”
The blue light became brighter and brighter as it approached, but Cregan noticed something else as well, as a gigantic structure of ice seemed to sprout from the ground, approaching them alongside the curtain of light, making everything around them tremble.
“How is this possible?” he couldn't help but mutter to himself.
“Didn’t I tell you, we’re in the Others’ realm now. Never forget that until we leave this place. The rules of the world are theirs completely.”
As the structure approached, its outlines became more visible. Cregan did not doubt that it was larger than any fortress he had ever heard of, a single monolith of ice rising out of the ground as if forced upward by the world itself. Its shape resolved slowly, as his eyes refused at first to accept what he was seeing: a colossal iceberg standing on its tip, its body splitting into dozens of jagged spines that radiated outward in every direction, sharp and uneven, almost forming the shape of a star.
The sky dimmed as it advanced, as if the thing itself dragged night behind it, swallowing what little light filtered through the fog. Cregan’s medallion was shaking so violently that it almost hurt him.
Harry suddenly unsheathed Ice and stared at the coming structure before speaking out, “See you on the other side.”
Before any of them could protest, the sorcerer shoved Cregan, Daphne, and Leaf backwards with a single sweep of magic, and the very world suddenly turned grey. Cregan almost stumbled as if he almost fell from the push, only to regain his footing.
Cregan opened his mouth to say some biting comment to Potter, only to freeze as he saw the very world blur around the crystalline star, and through the curtain of light, something moved.
It emerged slowly.
A figure, if such a word could even fit the sight, uncoiled from the ice. A worm was the best description that Cregan had of the sight before him. It could likely stand to be larger than mountains, but there was something… strange about it, something Other. For its body, pale and glassy, seemed to shift between solidity and something else entirely, something that Cregan simply could not describe, or perhaps even perceive, something completely and utterly maddening.
In its mouth were endless rings of teeth, which stretched wider with every motion, grinding together in a sound that Cregan felt more than heard. The creature glided over the ice without disturbing a single snowflake, flowing toward Harry, as if ready to swallow him whole.
He couldn’t help but release a shout, “Harry!”
Cregan tried to step forward, but a hand closed around his wrist. He looked at it in betrayal, only to see that it was Daphne’s. Her other hand held Leaf tightly, grounding the Child of the Forest, who looked moments away from collapsing. “He can’t hear you, and even if he did, there’s very little you can do against that. We have a job to do. Harry knows what he’s doing, even if he's fighting against something obviously connected to the Outsiders.”
She had muttered that last part angrily, but she did not detract from the conviction in her voice. And, as if to prove her point, Cregan’s ancestral weapon glowed in Harry’s hand, which created a shockwave that seemed to stall the titanic figure sliding at him, a shockwave that he distinctly did not feel in any way.
He looked at Daphne’s face and saw that she did not seem happy with the situation. Given the circumstances, he could hardly blame her. He turned in concern to Leaf, who had become completely unresponsive since Harry's strange 'push'. The Child of the Forest had finally regained her bearings and turned towards the golden-haired woman accusingly, “I cannot feel the wind. I cannot feel the forest. What have you done?”
Daphne didn’t flinch at the accusation, though her jaw tightened. “Nothing to you. This is Harry’s doing. Do you remember the reflection? It’s something like that. You know what, it doesn't matter now. I’ll have the chance to explain later. For now, we need to move quickly; we're not exactly safe here, and it won’t be long before they notice that something isn’t right.”
“Move where?” Cregan asked.
The golden-haired woman looked at him as if he were an idiot, “To the Heart of Winter, of course.”
AN: Phew, that chapter took a lot out of me. I'm still not sure about the decision to split Harry and Daphne up, but I think it would give Daphne more time to shine, while also getting the opportunity to have more Harry POV. I know that I left a few things unanswered, like what the worm is and Harry's plan, but I'll go over them in the next chapters. What I can tell you is that it will be pretty different from what I did in previous arcs. As usual, I don't mind rewriting this chapter depending on your feedback, so please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
