Aermir awaited a profound sense of loss and emptiness that would engulf him, as if he had lost a family member. When the immense grief and emptiness he anticipated did not descend upon him, a sinister and eerie calm enveloped his uneasy heart. There was no familiar pain, no suffocating sense of loss as Lika fell. Even with his last familiar member falling to the attack, the overwhelming grief he had expected did not materialize.
In the quiet depths of his mind, Aermir began to question this anomaly. "Why can't I feel it?" This awareness, a feeling incongruous with the anticipated sadness, stirred every corner of his consciousness. As Aermir grappled with the mystery of his emotions, the battlefield, the chaotic vortex, and the Night's King's relentless advance all seemed to blur.
"This isn't right. I should be immersed in grief and pain, but I'm not." He could feel the excruciating pain in his abdomen from the ice dagger, so this wasn't a dream, but he could see the lifeless corpse of his familiar and felt no suffocating pain.
Faced with imminent doom, this unnatural calm, devoid of the emotional storm he had anticipated, became a paradox. Therefore, instead of heeding the Night's King's words, he reached into his own body to find the ropes that bound his family to him; they were still there. He reached out, but they did not respond, as if something blocked his way.
He opened his eyes, facing the Night's King. The pain of the dagger in his internal organs returned, but the feeling of failure and frustration was gone. "How did you do that? This can't be real, but ahhh!... But I can still feel this dagger. This isn't a dream, it's not interstellar travel, it's not teleportation. What is this?"
A flicker of doubt crossed the Night's King's eyes, but he still slammed him onto a large rock and gripped Aermir's neck tightly. "Don't resist, you can't win! You'll only struggle in vain and suffer more pain."
Even though Aermir felt all of this was extremely painful, he stopped struggling and only wanted to ignore the Night's King in front of him.
"This can't be real, but why does it still feel real?"
Then it dawned on him. "I still haven't severed the connection with the imprint; you're using the imprint to enter my mind. We're in my mental world."
Aermir closed his eyes, imagining himself in control of reality. In this place, his will was supreme; Aermir, under the Night's King's control, turned to dust and then reappeared a few meters away.
"That's why you didn't just cut off my head, otherwise I would have realized this wasn't real; you wanted me to give up on life. That's why you were so talkative."
In that moment, Aermir realized how close he was to death. The Night's King had almost extinguished his will to live. With a wave of his hand, a massive stone pillar pierced the Night's King's chest, but he emerged from it as if made of sand.
"So, we can't kill the other person without going against our will to survive. Now I know that's fake; you can't break me."
The Night's King chuckled arrogantly and said, "Hmph, I will bring eternal night." Then, he vanished like snow. Aermir broke free from the mental imagery and opened his eyes. He was panting heavily; his senses had become unusually dulled from being so close to the Night's King's insidious scheme. Aermir was surrounded by his familiars, their wary eyes filled with worry.
He was still under the fir tree beside the Fist of the First Men. His familiars surrounded him, bombarding him with questions; Aermir could sense their anxiety. Artio and Berus nuzzled against him anxiously. Aermir sighed, ruffling their heads as he spoke...
"Even though it was a close call, I'm here. I'm fine, really."
Bo landed on Artio's head and said, "Father, we can't reach you. We can sense you, but something is blocking our way."
Im said, "Master, fundamentally, you have lost to us! What happened?" Aermir recounted his experience to them, and how the Night's King had nearly killed him. He had almost died, and even now, the thought of it sent chills down his spine. For the Night's King had used a mark of curse as a spark to connect their minds, and when he retreated, the curse had broken and been removed.
Artio roared, "That cursed Night's King... I'll bite his head off! Master, I'll protect you!" Aermir smiled at Artio's innocent reaction; she was still growing, and her childish reaction was expected. As Aermir smiled wearily at her, she had defended her honor.
"What! I will... I will bite his head off. I promise!"
"Okay, okay, Artio can protect me."
Bo interrupted them, "Master, we have guests. They've been here for half an hour, but they've kept their distance because you haven't moved."
Bran Rivers was patrolling around the Fist of the First Men. As he walked along the narrow path up the steep hillside, the cold night wind whipped against his face. He looked up at the summit and could see the torches of the outpost reduced to tiny dots in the darkness.
As he reached the grove at the foot of the hill, the pitch-black night was suddenly illuminated by emerald green lights. On the other side of the hill, where the weirwood trees stood, a beam of emerald green light shot straight into the night sky. Bran had never been a devout follower of the Old Gods, but everything before him seemed sacred beyond words.
He hesitated, but curiosity drove him. It might be dangerous there, but he knew he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't go now. He had to find out what had caused all this.
Brandon climbed into the tall bushes and looked toward the source of the pillar of light. It was right next to weirwood tree, and besides the light, the surrounding animals also caught his attention. There were Crow as big as eagles, snowy owls, giant Shadowcat, giant wolves or giant dogs, and black bears as big as polar bears. They formed a sentinel around the pillar, their vigilant eyes scanning all directions.
Brandon, a seasoned ranger with years of experience scouting for Wildlings and tracking animals, had never witnessed these creatures working together peacefully. Then he realized there was someone in the light. Bran saw the silhouette of a human. He recalled tales of the Druid and how they commanded many sacred animals larger than their counterparts in nature.
Brandon thought he was well hidden and was observing what was happening, but just then, he realized the Shadowcat was gone. As he frantically searched for it, he felt a warm current rush towards his neck. He turned around and drew his dagger like an assassin. His eyes met those of the enormous Shadowcat. The beast's eyes were icy, as if it were looking down at him, and it roared at him. He froze, unsure of what to do.
If the stories about Druid animals were true, then they were invulnerable. Brandon slowly placed the dagger on the ground; he knew he would have no chance if the beast pounced; he wanted to show he meant no harm. The beast circled him deadly for a moment, then vanished behind a tree in the blink of an eye, as if it had turned into smoke and disappeared.
Just then, he heard a roar behind him; Brandon turned around and saw the Shadowcat about 10 meters away. This terrified him; he hadn't felt anything. He hadn't heard any movement on the snow, nor had the beast left any footprints, as if it had no weight. It stood between him and the weirwood tree, its tail whipping across the snow-covered ground in a line.
It stood on the other side of the line, gripping it with its claws and growling at Brandon. Then it turned and disappeared into the woods. A few seconds later, it reached the tung tree and was still looking at Brandon. He realized he had been warned; he couldn't imagine what the thing would do to him if he crossed the line. He was terrified, but he couldn't leave. He sighed, "That's what they call: curiosity killed the cat."
He stepped back a little further and continued to watch from a distance. He heard more Night's Watch from the mountaintop, and he hurried to warn them and tell them what had happened.