"Father?" Cole woke up, his eyes meeting a familiar yet unfamiliar ceiling. Was it all just a nightmare? He had dreamt his father fell to a giant's club, trying to save him.
"You're awake," a gentle voice said.
"Maester Aemon," Cole replied, turning his head.
"You can't move yet," the Maester told him. "Moving will reopen your wound, Cole." Cole marveled at the Maester's sharp hearing.
"There is something I must tell you, my child." The Maester's tone shifted. "You must prepare yourself."
Cole's heart felt suddenly seized by an unseen hand. He didn't want to hear it, not at all, but no sound escaped his lips, and his body trembled slightly.
The Maester sighed, "Your father..."
"Please, Lord Maester, please!" Tears streamed uncontrollably down his face.
Aemon knew this was too cruel for Cole, and the Maester's mind was heavy. "These are Lord Stark's last words to you before he died. This letter should have been handwritten by Ser Alliser Thorne and left for you, but he had to escort Lord Eddard's body back to Winterfell, so I will deliver it for him."
"No!" Cole cried out in grief. "You're lying to me, aren't you, Maester Aemon?"
The Maester simply sighed, then bent down and was helped away by Clydas. "I know this is painful, my boy. But this is the test the gods have set for us, and Lord Eddard loved you very much."
He didn't know how long he cried. The letter was clutched tightly in Cole's hand. "Why?" he asked the empty room, "Why are the gods so cruel?"
Time seemed to stretch endlessly. Cole remained in the darkened room, consumed by infinite grief and regret, wishing he hadn't been saved.
"Cole?" A voice called from the darkness, but Cole was too exhausted from weeping to respond.
Big-eared Piper entered with a candle and a plate. Behind him were Greatjon and Grenn.
Piper placed the candle on the table, casting light across the room. "We are deeply sorry about your father, Cole."
"Not father," Grenn gently reminded him.
"Would you like some water?" Grenn asked Cole, who was staring blankly.
"No, thank you." His voice was hoarse and weak. He turned his head slightly and asked, "How did I get back?"
Great Cole's face lit up with excitement. "Do you know who's coming, Cole?" He seemed to realize his behavior was inappropriate and quickly composed himself, turning serious.
"Who?"
"Jon... he's back," Piper answered.
"You really should go and see. He's so powerful now. He led the men to defeat the wildlings and then saved you!" Greatjon continued. "If you saw him, you wouldn't recognize him."
"Stupid ox," Grenn muttered, a flicker of envy in his eyes.
When the horn sounded from the east, they couldn't help but look in that direction. A gold-trimmed battle standard, bearing a silver flaming bird, fluttered in the wind. Cavalry raised billowing snow mist, led by a man clad in silver armor—a majestic knight.
The cavalry from the Stormlands overwhelmingly defeated the chaotic wildling army, and Greatjon watched as the Silver Knight personally struck down a giant.
"This is the food Chief Bowen Marsh asked to be prepared for you. You'd better eat some." Piper placed the plate on the table.
"Thank you."
Piper shook his head. "There is no turning back, so be patient, Cole."
"Thank you." This was the third time he had said thank you, but his mind felt like a ball of lint.
The three men exchanged glances and silently walked out, leaving only candlelight and the plate of food. As silence filled the room, Cole's mind replayed past memories, scenes in the snow echoing in his thoughts. He brought the letter in his hand closer.
Mance Rayder was tied in front of a young man. A soldier kicked him in the back of the knee, and Mance staggered to the ground.
"Before you is His Excellency, the Prince Regent of the Seven Kingdoms," the stout knight beside the silver-haired young man said to Mance.
"Another King of the South," Mance Rayder smiled contemptuously.
"King-Beyond-the-Wall, Mance Rayder." Cole looked at him, a middle-aged man with graying hair and an ordinary appearance.
"Any advice?" The lines around his eyes deepened as he smiled.
"I've known you since I was a child, but you weren't the King-Beyond-the-Wall then," Cole said.
Mance was startled. "Really? It's a great honor to occupy the prince's thoughts."
"Perhaps we've met again. When did you betray the Night's Watch?" Cole asked him.
"It was many years ago. I just remember that old Lord Commander Mormont was still the commander of the crows at that time," he replied.
"My name is taken from Mormont, the 997th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."
Mance seemed to remember something and his eyes widened slightly. "Oh, are you that boy?"
Mance Rayder had also been a child taken in by the Night's Watch, so he clearly remembered the baby Lord Commander Mormont had found on the King's Road.
Cole simply smiled. "They said you betrayed the Night's Watch because of a cloak. I'm curious what kind of cloak could make you break your oath without hesitation."
"You wouldn't understand."
"A woman?"
Mance remained silent.
Cole chuckled lightly. "So what is your purpose in going south, Mance Rayder? Is the land beyond the Wall not vast enough? Or do you also wish to go south and contend for the Iron Throne?"
"I have no interest in iron chairs, boy."
"Watch your words, savage," Lord Dondarrion cursed at him.
"What then?" Cole continued to ask.
"Do you believe in the White Walkers?" Mance Rayder asked him.
Cole's expression suddenly grew serious. During his time in the south, he had rarely thought about the White Walkers. The source of his great fear for the world was the wights from beyond the Wall.
"The dead are coming," Mance said.
"Have you seen them?"
"Of course." The Wildling King was very sure.
"Your Highness, the White Walkers are just stories to scare children. Why must you listen to this savage's nonsense?" Lord Dondarrion interjected from the side.
"You must know that I grew up on the Wall, Dondarrion. I know far more about some things than you do," Cole told him.
Mance had expected to be wasting his words, but Cole's reaction was beyond his expectation.
"We originally caught a wight, but in the chaos, I burned it. But if you are willing to search beyond the Wall, you may encounter them."
Who the hell wants to bring that bad luck upon themselves, dealing with those dead things?
"So the purpose of your crossing the Wall is to escape those White Walkers?"
"When the dead are around, walls, stakes, and swords become meaningless. One cannot fight the dead, and no one knows that better than I."