Chapter 15: The Northern Passage
Aeria ascended, its Valyrian core humming with a soft, resonant light, bathing the core chamber in a warm glow as the cliffs and seas below shrank into a patchwork of frost and shadow. Elias stood, the crisp, sterile air replacing the familiar tang of salt, his hands gripping a worn console, its metal cool under his palms. Melvyn's vision lights our way, he thought, recalling Chapt 14's fiery map, heart racing with anticipation. A chipped mug lay beside a flickering rune, a micro-conflict as a refugee cursed its spilled contents, while a tattered harness chafed Elias's waist, grounding him in the moment. A cracked compass spun faintly on a panel, a world-in-motion pulse as northern winds howled outside, rattling Aeria's frame. A new sub-scene unfolded as a child dropped a chipped mug, its contents splashing, an Accidental Spill sparking Larra's hearty chuckle, easing the tense air.
"We're flying to the Wall," Elias said, voice filled with wonder, eyes fixed on the shrinking horizon, snowflakes swirling beyond the viewport.
[TRAVEL PROTOCOL ENGAGED. DGS INITIATING FLIGHT MODE. CITY STATUS: AGILE.]
Larra worked a console, her parchment list rustling as she organized refugees, her movements precise despite the tattered harness snagging her sleeve.
"Supplies are secure, refugees safe," she said, voice a calm anchor in the chaos.
"Hope your sky-box has better shocks," Corax cawed, landing on a flickering rune, its light pulsing uncertainly. "This thing's a bit wobbly."
"Quiet, you bloody bird," a refugee muttered, adjusting a frayed glove, his fingers stiff from cold.
Torak gripped his axe, knuckles white, his face a mask of discomfort, the cracked compass glinting nearby.
"This is not right," he growled, voice low and uneasy. "We are meant to be on the ground, fighting."
"This is a new kind of fight, my friend," Elias said, placing a reassuring hand on Torak's shoulder, his own hands sore from the console. "A new kind of war. And we'll win it together."
A new sub-scene emerged as a refugee argued over crate placement, voices rising until Larra's firm nod silenced them, boosting morale with her steady command. The northern winds howled, a merciless roar battering Aeria's walls, their icy bite seeping through. Elias stood on the outer deck, a shard of ice scraping his cheek, a sharp sting that drew a thin line of blood, his breath visible in the freezing air.
"These winds kill," Torak growled, his tattered harness creaking as he braced against the gusts.
"My System'll tame them," Elias replied, resolve hardening, activating the DGS to reinforce the outer walls with ice-resistant material, its glow steadying his trembling hands.
[ADAPTING TO NORTHERN CONDITIONS. REINFORCING OUTER WALLS. BORROWING: TORMUND'S WIND-DEFLECTING SKILL.]
Tormund rallied recruits, his booming laughter a defiant roar against the storm, his frayed glove flecked with frost.
"Look at them!" he roared, axe swinging in powerful, wind-deflecting arcs. "They're just big gusts of air. You hit them, they scatter!"
"Show-off," Corax cawed, landing on a frost-covered relic, its icy surface glinting. "The frosty breeze is a warning, Elias. The ice is watching. The shadows… they're waiting."
Their tactics fuel our strength, Elias thought, borrowing Tormund's skill, a surge of vigor warming his chilled limbs. A new sub-scene unfolded as a recruit dropped a cracked compass, its needle steadying under Tormund's guidance, a mini-payoff boosting confidence. The Wall loomed on the horizon, a jagged line of white, awe and dread mixing in Elias's chest as it grew larger, a monument to forgotten wars.
"The Wall's close," Elias whispered, standing on the command deck, the air thick with anticipation.
[ARRIVAL: THE WALL. NAVIGATING SNOWSTORMS. PREPARING FOR LANDING.]
Robb stood beside him, his face grim, pointing to landmarks etched in frost, a testament to his Stark heritage.
"The scouts know the land," he said, voice steady. "They'll guide you to the safest path."
"They'd better not lead us to ice demons," Corax quipped, landing on a glowing rune on the Wall, its faint hum reassuring. "Hope Jon's got hot stew. This cold's getting to my bones."
Larra moved like a whirlwind, planning the landing, a chipped mug clutched in her hand, her logistical mind mapping the integration of the Night's Watch.
"We'll distribute supplies, integrate the Watch," she said, voice firm despite the tattered harness chafing her.
The ice monsters await us, Elias thought, the cracked compass's cold weight in his pocket a hook to Castle Black's looming gate, urging him to land Aeria and confront the North's relentless darkness.
Love [ Game Of Thrones I Own Floating City ]? Unlock More Chapters and Support the Story!
Dive deeper into the world of [ Game Of Thrones I Own Floating City ] with exclusive access to 35+ chapters on my Patreon, plus new fanfic every week! Your support starting at just $5/month helps me keep crafting the stories you love across epic universes like [Grimm, Teen Wolf ,blacklist,Game Of Throne ,MCU and Arrowverse].
By joining, you're not just getting more chapters—you're helping me bring new worlds, twists, and adventures to life. Every pledge makes a huge difference!
👉 Join now at patreon.com/TheFinex5 and start reading today!