"Dany, did you already know?" A sharp glint flashed through Aemon's eyes as he stared intently at Daenerys.
"Know what? I don't know anything."
Of course Daenerys had to deny it.
She still remembered how she had guided Jon into becoming a Shadowbinder, and how she always pushed him to take the lead in every dangerous mission—accompanied, of course, by the loyal knight of the Dragon Party, Ser Alliser.
She had dug countless pits for him along the Wall: claiming the Night's Watch must not meddle in the politics of the Seven Kingdoms; constantly praising and glorifying the honor of the Watch, lifting it so high that any fall would shatter it to pieces; reinforcing the belief that "once you don the black, you are a brother for life"; insisting that the Watch's power must never be used for personal gain, nor to fight over power for any individual or king; and shattering the sanctity of the "Prince That Was Promised" prophecy to prevent the prophesied one from rallying the masses—unless it was to defend the Wall against the White Walkers.
There were many, many more. Dany had dug pits wherever she saw the chance—big ones, small ones, so many that even she had lost count.
So, she could never admit that she had known Jon's true identity from the start.
"From the moment I entered Dorne, the Three-Eyed Raven had been controlling my thoughts, distorting my will. What could I have known? I nearly didn't make it back! It was only because you kept warning me, urging me to leave the Wall early—have you forgotten?"
"I even neglected my own basic safety, acting recklessly like a fool. It was all the Three-Eyed Raven's doing.
Back then, I didn't even have the most basic rationality left. Whatever I said or did was beyond my control.
How could I possibly match your wisdom, old man? With a century of experience and insight, you were able to deduce Jon's identity."
Dany spoke with reason and emotion, even a touch of grievance in her voice, which filled old Aemon's heart with guilt.
Yes, Dany had been under the influence of the Three-Eyed Raven the whole time. Even someone as wise and experienced as himself had been blindfolded for over a decade.
If he hadn't left Westeros and escaped the Three-Eyed Raven's range of influence, he would never have been able to piece together Jon's true identity either.
It was all the Three-Eyed Raven's fault!
Damn Brynden Rivers!
Of course, bastards are born deceitful!
Well, not necessarily—Jon Snow was a bastard too.
Aside from loving the Starks a bit too much, he was a fine young man!
At the same time, at the Wall in the North.
Commander's Tower.
The newly appointed Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Jon Snow, suddenly shuddered and snapped out of his "raven spirit" state.
"Achoo! Achoo!" Jon blew a wad of green snot from his nose and muttered, "I can't keep sneaking out at night to fool around with Ygritte. I'm the Lord Commander now. I should be setting an example... I shouldn't..."
"Well, Mole's Town has been thriving lately. A bunch of prostitutes and farmwives who couldn't make it in Barrowton or Castle Cerwyn have come to seek a living here.
The Queen kept her word. She gives the Watch silver stags every month, and all the money gets spent in Mole's Town.
Besides, the Queen said that a man's natural urges aren't a serious offense.
After all, the Long Night is coming, and every brother of the Watch will have to give his all. A small indulgence isn't really a crime."
After mumbling to himself, Jon felt much more at ease.
At most, he would just reduce how often he met up with Ygritte.
Jon sat behind his desk and spoke to the empty chair across from him: "Lord Mormont, please tell Ygritte I won't be meeting her at the top of the Wall tonight. I've caught a cold."
"Jon's gone bad. Jon's grown up. He's a man now."
Jon blushed slightly, as if helpless. "It's not like I wanted this. It's Ygritte. She said if I don't come to her, she'll sneak in and take me by surprise at night."
"Liar, liar. You want her. I saw it, heard it. You also want Val."
"No, no! I don't want Val," Jon quickly denied.
"You do. You used my body to spy on her bathing. You watched her touch herself. You want to go—"
"Stop!" Jon's face turned as red as a monkey's rear. In a panic, he changed the subject. "Corn. Lord Mormont, would you like some corn?"
"Corn..."
Inside the Commander's Tower office, there was no one but Jon.
And yet someone had responded to him.
Responded as the former Lord Commander Jeor Mormont!
"Flap flap—" A large black raven took flight from the back of the chair, circling Jon with flapping wings, cawing, "Jon, corn, corn..."
Any Night's Watch brother who stepped into this stone chamber would immediately recognize the raven: Lord Commander Mormont's longtime pet raven.
It could speak human words, understand human speech, and even hold simple conversations—an exceptionally intelligent raven.
Everyone knew that the Old Bear was almost never without the raven. Wherever he went, it followed.
Even when he led the 300 rangers beyond the Wall, he had the raven on his shoulder.
At Craster's Keep, when the Old Bear was murdered by his own men who broke guest rights, the raven had been on the rafters.
Afterward, it followed Sam and Gilly all the way to the Wall. When it saw the Black Hand lead Sam into the cave, it flew to Castle Black and reunited with him again.
The raven had even met the Dragon Queen, but she had never paid much attention to what she assumed was an "ordinary" raven.
Afterward, it stayed in the rookery. Once the Queen left, and Stannis along with the Red Woman moved out of the Commander's Tower and into the King's Tower where the Queen once lived, the raven returned to its old home.
Until now, when the new Commander moved in.
Jon immediately opened a drawer, pulled out a handful of golden corn kernels, and offered them to the red-eyed black raven.
"Lord Mormont, after you deliver the message to Ygritte, please take a trip to the Haunted Forest and see if you can find 'Giantbane' Tormund.
Tell him: Targaryens keep their word.
The Dragon Queen is true to her promise. The moment she left the Wall, she began fulfilling it.
Right now, the Queen's White Knight, Ser Gerold Dayne, is leading a fleet from Braavos.
Eighty large ships, carrying tens of thousands of tons of supplies—enough to feed a hundred thousand Free Folk for years."
Jon spoke at length, unconcerned that the raven might forget.
Because he knew—this was no ordinary raven.
Deep within the raven's soul, there was the presence of Jeor Mormont!
He had discovered it quite by accident.
The Legendary Demigod Tamm's Codex that the Dragon Queen gave him was somewhat of a trap, but the meditation method passed down from Tamm's school was the real deal.
It was much like the Quanzhen Inner Arts from The Legend of the Condor Heroes—not quite on the same level as the overpowered techniques like the Nine Yin Manual, the Nine Yang Manual, or the Innate Skill, but undeniably orthodox.
No one could deny that the Quanzhen Inner Arts belonged to the authentic Daoist tradition and was best suited for foundational training.
Tamm's meditation technique was the same. Though inferior in level compared to the teachings of the Great Sorcerers or the Green Seers, it had absolutely no side effects and was one of the purest shadowbinder meditation arts.
Otherwise, Tamm wouldn't have become such a big shot in Volantis at such a young age.
In fact, Tamm was somewhat like Ma Yu. Kui Xi could be compared to one of the Five Greats. The Great Sorcerers, the Green Seers, and Melisandre were akin to Dugu Qiubai, Xuzhu (who wrote the Nine Yang Manual), and Huang Shang (the author of the Nine Yin Manual).
After Jon began cultivating the meditation technique from Tamm's school, his progress was lightning-fast.
How could it not be? He was the prophesied child, with talent beyond doubt.
Once he mastered the techniques of bonding with Ghost, his white direwolf, Jon began searching for a second animal companion.
Ideally, he wanted a flying eagle—perhaps one that could soar all the way to Winterfell, so he could see his home and visit the crypts to look upon his father.
That was his hope.
He hadn't found a hawk yet, but he did spot Mormont's raven.
It could speak, and it could fly.
Compared to a falcon, this big black raven wasn't half bad!
Then, Jon's soul entered the raven—and he was shocked to discover the shadow of old Mormont deep within it.
Jeor Mormont had been a skinchanger too!
At first, Jon was stunned, but upon further thought, it made perfect sense.
Mormont, like the Starks, was a Northerner, a man with pure First Men blood who had worshipped the Old Gods for thousands of years.
Why couldn't he have been a skinchanger?
Thinking back, the close bond between the old bear and the raven now seemed perfectly understandable.
The raven had been his animal companion.
As for why Mormont hid the fact that he was a skinchanger, Jon understood that too.
If not for how conspicuous Ghost was, and the fact that all the wildlings knew he was bonded with a wolf spirit, Jon would have kept his skinchanger identity hidden as well.
In fact, he had never publicly admitted to being a wolf spirit.
He was a shadowbinder after all—so technically, he wasn't lying.
Unlike Varamyr Sixskins, who suppressed the soul of Orell within the falcon, Jon didn't erase Mormont's will. On the contrary, through mental resonance, he constantly "shared" his own experiences with the old bear—revealing his thoughts for Mormont to see.
The humanity within Mormont's soul, which had been fading, began to stabilize. Its rate of dissipation slowed drastically.
Perhaps, one day in the future, the old bear might see his father again—
Papa Raven.
Knock knock knock.The sound of knocking pulled Jon back to reality.
"Who is it?" he called out.
"It's me."
It was Sam's voice.
"Come in." Jon waved his hand, and with a caw, the big black raven flew out the window.
"Jon, why have you been staying in the Commander's Tower all this time? You haven't come down to train with your brothers in the Night's Watch. Grenn's tried to come up and see you several times, but I stopped him—given your status as Lord Commander."
Samwell looked at his friend with concern, his gaze sincere. "I don't think you're putting on airs just because you're Lord Commander now."
"I…" Jon's pale face turned even paler. "Sorry, I've just been busy. Ser Gerold Dayne's fleet should be arriving at Eastwatch in about half a month, bringing a large shipment of supplies. I—"
"No, something's going on with you, isn't there?" Sam interrupted, staring at him intently. "Your face is so pale—are you sick? Should we get Maester Perestan?"
"My face…"Jon felt a chill in his heart. He rubbed his cheek, his expression shifting uncertainly.
"I've grown sensitive to light. Sunlight on my face feels like it's burning. That's why I don't like going downstairs during the day," he said softly.
"Light-sensitive? Why?" Sam asked, confused.
"It might be the shad—"Jon's eyes flickered, and he abruptly changed course. "Some magical training went wrong."
Why do shadowbinders wear masks?
To look mysterious?
Ha—do you think the Shadowbinders of Asshai-by-the-Shadow earned their name for nothing?
Far to the east, Asshai had been shrouded in shadow for thousands of years, almost never seeing the sun.
No sunlight meant they couldn't grow crops.
In fact, not only did the people of Asshai import their grain through sea trade, even their fresh water had to be brought in from outside.
The water of Asshai was black, glowing faintly green with phosphorescence. It radiated powerful magical energy—ordinary people would consider it cursed.
Born in such an environment, how could shadowbinders not react badly to the normal world?
(End of chapter)
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