The Sorrow of Sea Smoke

Snow!

Snow fell thick and fast, piling up into a three-foot-thick blanket.

Rustle...

Rhaegar, cloaked in black, walked alone through the snow.

"Where is this?"

Rhaegar furrowed his brow. The scene seemed to be near First Men's Fist.

After taking a few steps, he sensed something was wrong.

He looked down at his right hand. It wasn't trembling uncontrollably from an injury.

In an instant, Rhaegar understood.

He was dreaming, immersed in a world of dreams.

"I wonder how things are in The North."

Rhaegar headed toward The Wall, mulling it over in silence.

The Night King was a formidable opponent, with a strange origin and uncanny abilities.

The slightest misstep could tip the balance of victory.

When a thought took hold, it drew a response.

Thud, thud...

As he walked, Rhaegar suddenly heard a flurry of footsteps all around him.

He looked up. An army of wights marched through the wind and snow, surrounding him without his noticing.

The wights paid him no heed, advancing like puppets on strings.

Rhaegar grew wary. His keen senses detected someone watching him.

"Ribbit~~"

The Dream Eater Toad sprang out of his mind, its round, dingy gray body settling on its master's head.

Its glossy black eyes turned toward a certain direction.

Rhaegar sensed it too and turned to look for the skulker hiding nearby.

Suddenly, he met a pair of icy blue eyes, cold and indifferent.

The Night King emerged slowly, stepping out of the snowstorm with an ice spear in hand. He stared at Rhaegar without a change in expression.

Their gazes met, and an invisible shockwave rippled outward.

The wights nearby parted, clearing a wide space in the middle of the marching army.

Separated by a black stone protruding from the snow, one man and one wight faced each other