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Alliser Thorne stared at the bizarre scene, brain struggling to process.
Lord Commander Mormont slumped in the corner, disheveled, purple fingerprints on his throatâclearly fought someone. Jon Snow, that bastard, stood dazed holding a burning rag. And that deserter Lynnâthe one Thorne despised mostâgripped an odd dagger, standing over Othor's corpse.
Strangest of all: Othor's eyes aren't normal. Dull grey-white. And a gaping hole in his neck.
"Lynn! You traitor!" Thorne's mind leapt to conclusions: assassination attempt. He drew his longsword reflexively, pointing it at Lynn. "You dare attack the Lord Commander!"
His shout triggered the confused brothers behind him. A dozen blades turned on Lynn. Tension spiked.
"STOP!" A voice roared with authority. Everyone froze.
Jeor Mormont. He steadied himself against the wall, standing upright. "Lower your swords!"
The Old Bear's eyes blazed. His commander's presence made Thorne and the others hesitate.
"But my Lord, heâ" Thorne tried.
"I said lower your sword! Are you deaf, Ser Alliser?" Mormont's tone brooked no argument.
Thorne's face flushed purple. He glared at Lynn but sheathed his blade grudgingly. Others followed.
"Othor... came back." Mormont's voice was heavy, each word forced through gritted teeth. "He tried to kill me. Lynn and Jon saved my life."
The words hit like a boulder in still water. Shock rippled through the brothers.
Came back? The corpse... moved?
All eyes turned to the body. Expressions shiftedâdoubt to horror to naked fear.
"That's... impossible," a young brother stammered. "The dead can'tâ"
"I SAW IT!" Mormont cut him off, voice trembling with lingering terror. "He ignored blades, had monstrous strength. Not human. A monster."
Thorne's face cycled between pale and flushed. He looked at the corpse, then Lynn. Still don't believe it. Too absurd. Must be witchcraft.
"Lord Commander, this deserter's behind it!" Thorne's voice turned shrill, pointing at Lynn. "Southern sorcery! He controlled Othor's body, staged this to win your trust!"
Lynn almost laughed. Thorne's a gift. Even now, he's focused on framing me instead of the crisis. Pig-brained.
"Sorcery?" Lynn's cold smile cut through. His gaze pierced Thorne. "Ser Alliser, what sorcery could fool the Lord Commander's eyes? What sorcery makes direwolves react like enemies?"
He gestured to Ghost, still growling protectively by Jon. "Or do you think a 'deserter' like me could pull off such deception under the Lord Commander's nose?"
Each sentence slapped Thorne's face. He sputtered, speechless. Can't explain it. But I still don't believe him! Something's wrong with Lynn!
The Old Bear slammed the table. "Ser Alliser, I know you've always disliked Lynn. I've seen your behavior. This is too much. Is now the time for infighting and slander? If I hear this again, Thorne, you'll answer for it!"
I'll send him to King's Landing with the corpse. Get him out of my sight. Annoying bastard.
Thenâ
"AHHHâ!" A piercing scream echoed from the other side of the castle. Pure terror.
Everyone's hearts seized.
"Maester Aemon!" a brother cried.
"Go! Quickly!" Mormont bolted first. Others followed, forgetting Lynn.
Thorne shot Lynn a venomous glare before drawing his blade and running after them.
The courtyard was chaos. Torches blazed. Brothers poured from barracks, faces panicked.
"What happened?"
"Over there! Aemon's chambers!"
When Mormont's group reached Aemon's room, they froze.
Torren and thirty Northmen surrounded the entrance, torches and swords ready. Inside, a black-clad corpse writhed in roaring flames.
Jafer Flowers.
It twisted, struggled, hissing. Ice-blue eyes glowed eerily in the firelight, staring at the crowd.
Maester Aemon stood behind Torren and his men. The ancient maester looked shaken but oddly calm.
"It woke." His voice was hoarse, aged. "Just now. It tried to attack me. Torren's men stopped it with fire."
Everyone stood paralyzed. They watched the burning monster, smelled charred flesh, felt soul-deep cold spread through their limbs.
If what happened in Mormont's room could be explained as sorcery or hallucination... what about now? Two corpses. Two locations. Both rose. This isn't coincidence.
All eyes turned to the figure walking slowly from the crowd's rear.
Lynn. Same calm expression. As if he'd expected this horror.
"Now." Lynn's voice was steady. "Does anyone still think this is sorcery? Still think I'm telling stories?"
Silence.
Alliser Thorne's face was bloodless. He knows Lynn's talking to him.
But...
He looked at the twisting wight in flames, then at Lynn's composed face. His body trembled uncontrollably.
Fear.
Fuck. Lynn was right. About everything. Beyond the Wall, those monsters from legend... they're back.
~~~~ââ~~~~~~~~ââ~~~~
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