50 AC
Skagos
Jonnos Sköll
A week had passed since we conquered Skagos. The initial fury of the battle had subsided, replaced by the grim work of occupation and the uneasy peace of victory. We had placed a landed knight in charge of the keep, a temporary measure until a proper lord could be appointed. As it turned out, Lord Stane had no daughters, no female heirs at all. With his death, House Stane was extinct, its line ended in the blood-soaked courtyard of Driftwood Hall. Now, we were all making our way back to the ships, the long journey home beckoning.
Theon turned to me, his expression serious. "Make sure all the other ships leave for Deepdown," he instructed, his voice low and commanding. "You, me, and ten members of the Wolfpack are to remain. We have somewhere else to go."
I opened my mouth to question him, to ask where he intended to lead us, but he cut me off with a sharp look. "I can't answer you now," he said, his voice firm, "but trust me, Jonnos. This is important."
I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. I had learned long ago that Theon often had his reasons, reasons he didn't always share until the time was right. "Aye," I said, turning to the other captains. "You heard the Lord Commander. Set sail for Deepdown. We'll follow shortly."
We watched as the fleet, one by one, pulled away from the shore, their sails catching the wind, heading north towards Deepdown. It wasn't until the last ship had disappeared over the horizon, swallowed by the vastness of the sea, that Theon turned to me. "Alright," he said, his voice low, "let's go." He gestured towards our waiting longship. "Skane Island."
I simply nodded. "You heard the Lord Commander," I told the Wolfpack members gathered around us. "Set sail for Skane."
The next day, the jagged peaks of Skane Island rose from the horizon, a stark and forbidding silhouette against the morning sky. The air was cold and crisp, carrying the scent of salt and the promise of whatever awaited us on that isolated isle.
I turned to Theon, who stood beside me at the prow, his gaze fixed on the approaching land. "Skane is in sight, Lord Commander," I said, my voice carrying over the creak of the ship and the slap of the waves. "Should we prepare to dock?"
Theon shook his head, his eyes scanning the horizon beyond Skane. "Not Skane," he replied, his voice low and intense. "We're heading further north. There's another island just beyond it. If my guess is correct, what I'm looking for will be there."
"And what exactly are you looking for?" I asked, my curiosity finally getting the better of me.
He turned to me, a strange glint in his eyes. "You'll see," was all he said.
And so, we sailed on, the mystery of our destination hanging heavy in the air. It was midday when the island finally came into view, a desolate, windswept rock rising from the churning sea. This was it, the last island in the Shivering Sea, a lonely sentinel guarding the edge of the world. Beyond it lay only the endless expanse of the frozen ocean, and beyond that... the Land of Always Winter. The island itself was a picture of bleakness: bare, rocky, and seemingly devoid of any life.
The island itself was a picture of bleakness: bare, rocky, and seemingly devoid of any life. As we prepared to dock, Theon turned to me, his expression resolute. "You and I are going to explore this island," he declared. "The rest of the men are to stay on the ship."
I opened my mouth to protest, to ask why, but he cut me off with a sharp gesture. He didn't say another word, simply turned and began to move towards the shore.
I knew that look. I knew Theon. He could be as stubborn as a mountain when he wanted something, and once he'd set his mind on a course, there was little anyone could do to sway him.
So, I followed him. We left the ship and the relative safety of the shore, and started to move towards the center of the desolate island, the wind whipping around us, carrying the eerie silence of the place.
We walked for what felt like hours, the sun beginning its slow descent towards the horizon, casting long, eerie shadows across the barren landscape. Theon moved with a purpose, his gaze constantly scanning the rocky terrain, searching for something. He still hadn't said a word about what he was looking for, leaving me to follow him in silence, my mind filled with questions and a growing sense of unease.
We searched for a while, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon. Suddenly, Theon stopped, and I bumped into him. I turned to see why he'd halted, and what I saw made my jaw drop.
Before us was a nest. A nest of dragons.
There must have been ten of them, at least. They were magnificent, terrifying creatures, their scales shimmering in various shades of white and blue, their eyes glowing with an ancient, otherworldly light. I was speechless, rooted to the spot in awe and disbelief.
I turned to look at my brother. All I saw was a triumphant look on his face.
Then, to my horror, Theon started to walk towards the largest dragon. I tried to stop him, to shout a warning, but he ignored me, his gaze fixed on the colossal beast. The dragon, hearing his footsteps, lifted its massive head and looked at him with a curious, ancient gaze.
Theon reached the dragon and, to my utter astonishment, spread his arms and bowed his head slightly. The dragon regarded him for a moment, its eyes like molten gold, then let out a deafening roar. I panicked, my heart pounding in my chest. It's going to eat him, I thought, my mind reeling. I tried to shout, to warn him, but my voice was frozen in my throat. I didn't want to startle the creature, to provoke it further.
The dragon lowered its head, bringing its snout closer to Theon. My breath hitched in my throat. Theon lifted his head and looked the dragon directly in the eye, his expression calm and resolute. Then, he removed his glove and pressed his bare hands against the dragon's snout. He began to speak to the dragon, his voice low and melodic, but the dragon only rumbled deep in its throat, a sound that vibrated through the very ground beneath our feet.
And then, I began to question my sanity.
Theon started to climb the dragon. He moved with a surprising agility, his hands finding purchase on the rough scales, his body moving with a fluid grace that seemed almost... unnatural. The dragon, for its part, seemed to tolerate his ascent, its massive head turning slightly to watch him, its golden eyes filled with an ancient curiosity.
He reached the dragon's neck, the scales there larger and smoother. He settled himself onto the broad expanse of its back, gripping the bony ridges that ran along its spine. The dragon shifted slightly, its powerful muscles flexing beneath him.
Then, with a deep, resonant roar that shook the very air, the dragon spread its massive wings. They unfurled like vast, leathery sails, catching the wind with a sound like thunder. The ground beneath us trembled.
The dragon took off, with Theon on its back.
I watched, rooted to the spot, as they soared into the sky, the wind screaming past them, the ground falling away beneath them. The world stretched out before them, a vast panorama of sea and sky. Theon, however, seemed completely at ease, his face alight with an almost manic joy.
He urged the dragon higher, his voice a strange, melodic language that I couldn't understand, yet somehow felt deep within my bones. The dragon responded, its powerful wings beating in a steady rhythm, carrying them higher and higher, towards the setting sun. He made the dragon do barrel rolls and all kinds of maneuvers.
I watched, my mind reeling, as they danced across the sky. Theon, a tiny figure on the back of the colossal beast, seemed to be one with the dragon, his movements and the dragon's intertwined in a breathtaking display of power and grace. It was a sight that defied all reason, a spectacle that I knew I would never forget.
As the last rays of the sun painted the sky in hues of orange and gold, Theon and the dragon began their descent. They circled the island once, twice, then landed gently back near the shore, the dragon's massive form casting a long shadow over the desolate landscape.
Theon dismounted the dragon with a fluid grace, his feet landing lightly on the rocky ground. He turned and made his way towards me, a wide, almost manic smile on his face. I stood there, rooted to the spot, watching both him and the dragon with a face frozen in shock.
He reached me and gave me a playful, almost brotherly, jerk. "Brother," he said, his voice filled with exhilaration, "are you alright?"
I just stammered, my words failing me. "H-h-how....?"
He grinned, his eyes shining with an almost otherworldly light. "The Old Gods showed me, brother," he said, his voice hushed with reverence.
And then it hit me. I forgot. My brother has the green dream.
He turned back towards the dragons, his hand outstretched. "Come," he said, gesturing to the other dragons. "Approach them. Try."
I shook my head, fear gripping me. "No," I said, my voice trembling. "I can't. I won't."
He turned back to me, his expression pleading. "Please, Jonnos," he urged. "Trust me. The Old Gods want us to do this. We need to do this."
I hesitated for a long moment, torn between my fear and the desperate plea in his voice. He continued to urge me, his words filled with a conviction that was hard to ignore. Finally, with a deep breath, I steeled myself.
I made my way towards another dragon, a magnificent creature with scales of light blue and piercing black eyes. I moved slowly, my heart pounding in my chest, trying to emulate Theon's earlier actions. I reached the dragon and did the same thing my brother did: I spread my arms slightly. The dragon lowered its massive head, its gaze fixed on me. It let out a deafening roar, the sound vibrating through my very bones. Then, it brought its snout close to my body. I instinctively flinched, but held my ground. Taking a deep breath, I removed my glove, my hand trembling slightly, and pressed my bare palm against the dragon's snout.
A searing, burning sensation shot through my palm. I cried out, pulling my hand away to see what had happened. A spiraling symbol, glowing with a faint, inner light, was etched onto my skin.
Then, a voice echoed in my mind, clear and resonant, yet utterly alien. What is your name, human?
I gasped, my eyes widening in disbelief. "Jonnos Sköll," I managed to say, my voice a mere whisper. "And... and it's good to meet you."
I gathered my wits enough to ask its name. The voice replied, We do not have names, as you understand them. We communicate through thought, with our kind, as I am communicating with you now.
"Can I give you one?" I asked, my mind racing.
Yes, the dragon replied, the thought resonating deep within my being.
I thought for a moment, searching for a name that felt right, a name that captured the dragon's essence. "Sylvi," I said finally. "I will call you Sylvi."
The dragon hummed the name, a sound that seemed to vibrate with approval. Sylvi... it is pleasing.
"Can I ride you, Sylvi?" I asked, a surge of adrenaline coursing through me.
Yes, came the reply.
I began to climb, my fear replaced by a strange sense of exhilaration. As I reached Sylvi's back and settled myself onto her massive form, I looked over at Theon. He was doing the same, climbing onto the back of the largest dragon, his face alight with a triumphant grin.
I settled onto Sylvi's back, gripping the large scales for purchase. The leather of my boots felt strangely inadequate against the immense power beneath me. Sylvi shifted, her muscles rippling, and then with a powerful beat of her wings, we were airborne.
The sensation was unlike anything I had ever experienced. The wind roared in my ears, but it wasn't jarring; it felt like the breath of the world itself. Sylvi moved with a surprising grace for her size, soaring upwards in wide, majestic arcs. Beside us, Theon and his immense white dragon climbed into the sky as well, their silhouettes stark against the deepening hues of the setting sun.
We flew in tandem, the two dragons moving with an unspoken understanding. Theon, ever the more daring, began to put his dragon through more aggressive maneuvers – sharp turns, swift dives, and breathtaking climbs. His laughter, carried on the wind, sounded almost manic, a pure expression of exhilaration.
Sylvi, though seemingly calmer, responded to my unspoken will. It wasn't like guiding a horse; it was more like an extension of my own thoughts, a merging of minds. I leaned, and she responded, banking gracefully to the west as the sun began its final descent, painting the sky in fiery shades of orange, red, and gold.
We circled the desolate island, the long shadows of the dragons stretching across the barren landscape below. The smaller dragons in the nest watched us, their glowing eyes following our every move. It felt like we were part of something ancient and powerful, a secret revealed at the edge of the world.
Theon, with a whoop of delight, urged his dragon into a series of barrel rolls, the massive creature turning end over end against the vibrant canvas of the sunset. Sylvi and I followed suit, the world blurring around us in a dizzying display of aerial acrobatics.
As the last sliver of the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in twilight hues of purple and deep blue, we continued our flight. The air grew colder, the stars beginning to prick the darkening expanse above. The only sounds were the rhythmic beat of the dragons' wings and the rush of the wind.
There was a profound sense of freedom in riding Sylvi, a feeling of being unbound by the constraints of the earth. I looked over at Theon, his face illuminated by the faint glow of his dragon's scales, and saw the same sense of liberation reflected in his eyes.
We flew in silence for a while, simply enjoying the magic of the moment, two brothers soaring through the twilight sky on the backs of ancient beasts. It felt like a dream, a fantastical vision made real by the will of the Old Gods and the bond we had somehow forged with these magnificent creatures.
Finally, as the first stars shone brightly in the night sky, Theon let out a triumphant cry and began to descend. Sylvi, sensing my unspoken command, followed suit, our descent as graceful and effortless as our flight. We were no longer just Jonnos and Theon Sköll; we were dragonriders, and the world had just become a whole lot bigger.
As we landed, Theon dismounted his dragon and turned to me, his face glowing with excitement. "What did you name yours?" he asked, his voice filled with pride.
"Sylvi," I replied, a smile spreading across my face. "And yours?"
"Saphira," he said, the name rolling off his tongue with a sense of reverence. I nodded, still trying to process the events of the evening. "So... now what?" I asked.
Theon's expression turned serious. "Now," he said, "as the bond between us and our dragons increases, the distance by which we can communicate with them will also increase. But we can't show the dragons to outsiders. If the South hears of them, they will panic and do stupid things."
"Where will we hide them?" I asked, looking back at the magnificent creatures.
"They can live underwater," Theon explained, "so they can hide at Long Lake north of Winterfell. But first, we need to increase the bond with our dragons. We have to come here again, with our family, and stay for a while. You bring your sons, Torrhen and Alaric. I will bring Morgan and Artor. Harrion is still too young, so we can't risk it. We will contact Lyra and ask her if she or her sons want to bond with the dragons."
I frowned, a sense of unease settling in my stomach. "Don't you think it would be better for the dragons to remain only in the Stark family?" I asked. "I think only I am enough. If, in the future, one of my descendants were to rebel with the help of a dragon, it would be... bad."
Theon just smiled, a knowing, almost cryptic smile. "It won't," he said, his voice filled with an unsettling certainty.
"Why won't it happen?" I pressed, my concern growing.
Theon's smile softened, though it still held a hint of mystery. "The lycan potion," he explained, "it doesn't just change our bodies, Jonnos. It changes our minds, too. It instills in us a pack mentality. A deep, unbreakable bond with our blood, our true blood."
He paused, his gaze intense. "As they say, 'The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.' That's why I allowed Lyra to give the potion to Rickard Karstark and his family."
"If the potions had been present during the Grey Starks' time," I mused, "they wouldn't have rebelled."
"Aye," Theon agreed, a hint of sadness in his voice.
I fell silent, lost in thought. The lycan potion... it was more than just a transformation. It was a bond, a connection to something primal and powerful. And it had the potential to change everything. I began to consider the implications, the ways we could use it to strengthen the North, to ensure its unity and survival for generations to come.
After a while, we turned back to the dragons, promising to return soon with our family. We spoke to them of our plans, of the need for secrecy, and of the bond we hoped to forge. Then, with a final farewell, we retreated to our ship and set sail towards Deepdown, leaving the dragons to their ancient vigil in the heart of the Shivering Sea.