Chapter 193: Existential Crisis
Beyond the Wall, True North
POV of Domeric Bolton
Domeric ran in the direction he last saw the White Walker at, safe in the knowledge that Varko would follow him.
He knew by now that even if these creatures used their ice powers to their advantage, they were also prideful and patient enough that it would likely not have moved from its place. And probably it was looking at the storm with an apathetic eye as if the battle had nothing to do with it.
The shrieks of the wights and the battle cries of his men were the only things he was able to hear as Domeric moved ahead, aside from the occasional wight that ran toward him. He couldn't see beyond 3 meters ahead of him due to the snowstorm, which was growing stronger even now, while the temperature continued to fall further below zero.
He had no idea how a normal human being was even going to fight a magical creature such as this, who has so much magical power, such great control over the cold, and an army of the undead.
All of a sudden, he wondered if there was a reason why he came to this world.
Because, as it was, he doubted that even the army of the whole seven kingdoms would do much against these White Walkers during Winter.
He wondered if he was brought here to play the role of a savior once again.
The thought curdled his stomach, and his features contorted.
Because that wasn't what Death had told him. Death had told him he could live in this world as he pleased.
A new life willingly given in exchange for a life unwillingly taken. No conditions were presented. Wasn't this the message the Death had conveyed to him with the Symbol of Deathly Hallows?
But could Domeric live as he pleased in a world where White Walkers existed?
Especially since he had been born in the North, as a son of a lord.
His loved ones, his men, his people, his home were here in the North. The first place the White Walkers would occupy after breaching the Wall.
Was it possible for him to live without caring about the White Walkers? No. He would have to resist them.
He would have to take on the role of savior again.
And there was no way the Death wouldn't know about it.
"Fuck."
Was he being manipulated by others again? No, wasn't Death the one who manipulated him in the first place also? Wasn't his life taken unwillingly? Wasn't Death the one who planned everything in the first place?
So, had nothing changed? Was he being controlled in this life, just as he had before?
Was he brought here again as someone else's savior?
And what about his walking the Veil? Did he end his life of his own volition, or did Death intervene to force him to walk the Veil so he could come to this world?
Ginny? Had Ginny betrayed him of her own free will? Or had Death manipulated Ginny's will to force Harry into the Veil?
Domeric didn't realize it, but he was currently experiencing a panic attack.
Although his body was automatically focused on its mission —running towards the White Walker —Domeric's mind was in an existential crisis.
So much so that he could no longer even decide whether he was Domeric or Harry, even though he was both.
At that moment, Domeric felt a warmth from the Deathly Hallows tattoo on his right hand, and the warmth quickly spread throughout his entire body, causing him to relax.
It was as if he had drunk a Calming Draught.
Then, Domeric heard a voice inside his mind. It was a woman's voice. Soft yet ethereal.
"It's not what you think, Harry. You have my word. I will answer any questions you may have. Look for me in Godswood when you return home."
Domeric managed to recover from his panic attack thanks to the warmth emanating from the Deathly Hallows and the effect the voice he heard in his mind had on him.
But he wasn't exactly happy about it. Because the voice he heard in his head meant that Death was aware of his situation and what had happened to him. And the possibility of being constantly watched wasn't something he particularly enjoyed.
However, he didn't have the chance to think about this matter anymore as the visibility finally cleared a little bit, and the first thing he saw was the Ice Sword moving toward his stomach.
The White Walker stabbed him. His Valyrian Armor took the attack without a scratch, but the force behind the strike still bent him in half and took the breath away from him.
He looked up to notice the White Walker looking at him with a cocked head. If its frozen face could form any features, then it would undoubtedly look confused.
Just like the first White Walker who had tried to stab him.
The White Walker didn't have a chance to observe him anymore as Varko came from behind him with a battle cry, and then the two of them were clashing in a contest of skill while he knelt on the ground and tried to get his breath back.
He got up in time to see the White Walker and Varko locked in a battle of strength.
He could already see that this would end badly for Varko.
But before the White Walker could push Varko back and show the immense strength hidden in its icy muscles, Varko shifted. Then, in a maneuver that could only be performed by an expert with blades, he tilted on his feet and swung around on his heels, making the White Walker fall forward without anything there to hold its weight.
Varko completed the maneuver and stabbed the White Walker in the neck. Only to miss at the last second as the White Walker pushed itself forward and the Valyrian Sword passed by its neck by a mere fraction of an inch.
The White Walker rolled around on the ground with a grace that belied its size and strength. For a moment, standing with its ice sword and its magical armor, it almost looked majestic.
Then its eyes blazed blue, and it charged forward.
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Next Chapters' Name:
Ch.194: Unexpected Death
Ch.195: Anticlimactic End