Chapter 57 - Chapter 57: Mormont's Gratitude

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Fire roared in Maester Aemon's chambers.

The corpse called Jafer Flowers was consumed by flames, reduced to blackened bones. Those eerie blue eyes lost their glow at last.

As the fire died, the nauseating stench of charred flesh faded slightly. But the fear gripping every brother's heart—thick as Haunted Forest fog—only deepened.

"My Lord was right..." A young guard stared at the black remains, voice trembling. He was one of Torren's squad—Lynn's plan's executor. "Only fire... only fire works!"

His words sparked agreement.

"I slashed it with my sword—useless! It felt no pain, didn't care about wounds!"

"That thing's strength was monstrous! Nearly grabbed me!"

"Thank the gods we followed my Lord's orders—prepared torches and oil!"

Torren's men spoke over each other, recounting the harrowing fight. Their voices mixed relief with genuine worship of Lynn.

If Lynn hadn't deployed us. If we hadn't strictly followed his fire orders. Tonight, we'd be the corpses here—not these bones.

Surrounding brothers listened silently. Their expressions shifted—doubt to shock to awe. The way they looked at Lynn changed.

This young man we once scorned as a deserter—who conquered us with force but remained tainted—now seems wrapped in mysterious, powerful light. Not a madman. A prophet. A seer who can lead us against darkness.

Alliser Thorne stood at the crowd's edge, face twisted like he'd swallowed flies. He heard soldiers praise Lynn, heard whispered discussions. His face burned—like being slapped with a shoe sole dozens of times.

I want to argue. Call it Lynn's conspiracy. But the facts silence me.

Two wights. Two attacks. One nearly killed the Lord Commander—only Lynn's legendary blade saved him. The other, Lynn's deployment prevented casualties entirely. The contrast is stark. Facts trump eloquence.

I, Alliser Thorne—self-proclaimed noble knight, Castle Black's master-at-arms—looked like a jumping clown in real crisis. That deserter I despised became everyone's savior. My pride is crushed.

Jeor Mormont leaned against the doorframe, aged face full of complex emotions. He looked at his wrecked room, then at Aemon's perfectly resolved scene.

If I hadn't hesitated. If I'd fully trusted Lynn's advice. I only tied those corpses loosely!

Terror surged in Mormont's heart. He looked at Lynn with gratitude—not superior to subordinate, but survivor to savior.

"Lynn." Mormont approached. "You saved me once. Saved all of Castle Black. I owe you."

Lynn shook his head slightly. "I only did what needed doing, Lord Commander."

"No." Mormont's tone was solemn. "This wasn't 'needed doing.' You argued against everyone. The fault was mine—I didn't listen."

Mormont's words carved themselves into every brother's heart. The Lord Commander acknowledges Lynn. No one dares question him now. No one will call him deserter again.

Lynn used two undeniable victories, two wights burned to ash, to wash away every stain.

"Clean this up." Mormont ordered Thorne coldly, emotionlessly. I can't stand the sight of him now. "Handle everything. At dawn, I'm calling an emergency meeting. Notify all officers—attendance mandatory."

Mormont turned toward his chambers without another glance. His back looked hunched but his steps were firm.

Tonight taught me one thing: the Long Night is truly coming. And the Night's Watch isn't ready.

The crowd dispersed. Brothers returned to barracks carrying fear and shock. But everyone knew: tonight, no one would sleep.

Jon Snow approached Lynn. His grey eyes held admiration and unconscious dependence. "Lynn, thank you." His voice was low.

He's thanking Lynn not just for saving Mormont and Castle Black. But for making him face reality.

"White Walkers are real." Jon smiled bitterly. "Now I understand—we're not facing wildlings. We're facing undead monsters. And my father nearly beheaded you... I apologize on his behalf."

Lynn clapped Jon's shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm not petty. Your father has integrity, followed the rules. And I'm still alive, aren't I? Go rest. Tomorrow brings much work."

Seeing Lynn harbor no resentment, Jon admired his magnanimity even more. He nodded gratefully and left with Ghost.

Lynn watched him go. The future Lord Commander truly grew up tonight.

Befriending Jon is simple self-interest. I'll chase dragons, lead armies—no time to stay at Castle Black. But Jon will remain. His friendship means his help. If he becomes Lord Commander, it's like I am.

Lynn turned to his hundred Northmen. They stood tall, eyes burning with near-worship.

"My Lord!" Torren's voice trembled with excitement. "You're a messenger sent by the Old Gods!"

Lynn smiled, saying nothing. But inside, he appreciated it.

Being linked to gods massively boosts prestige—especially in this era of universal faith. Everyone worships the Old Gods. But I, Lynn, am guided by them directly. These loyal soldiers will walk through fire for me. And this is just the beginning.

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