Chapter 3: White Harbor
Winterfell — Master Bedroom of the Great Keep
"Catelyn, why are you suddenly so concerned about Jon's affairs?"
Eddard Stark looked at his wife in disbelief. Lady Catelyn, meanwhile, wore a look of indignation, clearly upset.
The reason was simple. During the feast that evening, Eddard had suddenly announced that Jon would be leaving for the eastern continent of Essos to become a mercenary.
The members of House Stark had all been shocked by the news, but what no one expected was that the strongest reaction came from Lady Catelyn herself.
Since there were matters Eddard did not wish to discuss in front of the children, he brought his wife back to the bedchamber after the feast, leading to the scene now unfolding.
"Wouldn't it be better to let Jon join the Night's Watch?" Catelyn said. "With Benjen there to look after him, he might even rise to become Lord Commander one day. At the very least, we would always know where he is."
Though she bore little affection for Jon as a bastard, he was still a child she had watched grow up. Even kittens and puppies form attachments over time—let alone a living person.
"Jon has his own path to walk," Eddard replied. "I've already had White Harbor make arrangements to contact the 'Wolf Pack' mercenaries. They're descendants of Northmen. They'll look after him."
Though Jon already knew the truth of his birth, Eddard had no intention of telling Catelyn—at least not yet.
Until Robert Baratheon was dead, revealing Jon's identity would bring catastrophe upon House Stark.
To be honest, Eddard no longer knew what the right choice was. Robert's troubles alone were enough to give him sleepless nights. For now, all he wanted was for Jon to leave Westeros safely.
"Does it truly have to be this way?" Catelyn asked quietly.
"For now, yes," Eddard said firmly. "This is the only way. Jon's future lies across the Narrow Sea."
Seeing the resolve in her husband's eyes, Lady Catelyn did not press the matter further. It was only because she could never cross that barrier in her heart that her feelings toward Jon remained so complicated.
Meanwhile, Jon's room was packed full of people.
The Stark children had all gathered there, confusion written plainly on their faces. After all, they knew Jon had always wanted to go north—to the Wall, to join the Night's Watch.
"Why are you suddenly going to the eastern continent?" Sansa Stark asked. "I've heard the people there are savage, and that they kidnap people into slavery. It's terrifying."
As the eldest daughter of House Stark, Sansa had inherited her mother's reserved attitude toward Jon. Still, with his departure imminent, she felt obligated to see him off. It was a matter of courtesy, nothing more.
"I—ugh!"
Before Jon could answer, a sharp blow slammed into his chest—a clumsy combination of a headbutt and a punch. The attacker moved quickly, knocking the breath from him.
By the time he reacted, the person had already grabbed his clothes, her voice trembling with sobs.
"I don't want you to go, Jon!"
Arya Stark clung to him tightly, tears welling in her eyes.
"I have to make a choice," Jon said softly. "Just like a young eagle must leave the nest. Maybe out there… I can become someone."
As the words left his mouth, a surge of sadness rose in his heart. Though the soul within him had changed, the memories had not.
No matter what, he could not sever his feelings for House Stark.
And that only strengthened his resolve.
Only by gaining power and influence could he protect the people connected to him.
Jon had already prepared parting gifts—things the former Jon Snow had intended to give, now passed on through him.
The slender rapier Needle, once his in another life, was solemnly placed into Arya's hands.
The North — White Knife River, White Harbor
The sun had just risen over the eastern horizon, and White Harbor was already alive with activity.
Seagulls cried overhead, circling above the sea in search of food.
Aboard the single-masted sailing ship Wave Treader, Jon watched the bustling port with interest.
At the same time, he caught the familiar smell of White Harbor—a scent common to all ports in Westeros, a mixture of seawater, refuse, and filth.
Fishermen guided boats of all sizes along the White Knife River. Each time nets were cast, shimmering schools of fish were hauled aboard.
"Hahaha! You're in luck, lad," said the bearded captain. "I happen to know a few large merchant galleons bound for Myr."
Lars Snow, captain of the Wave Treader, came from a family of rivermen along the White Knife. His house had made its fortune through shipbuilding, and Jon had boarded at their small private pier.
"Have you ever crossed the Narrow Sea, Captain Lars?" Jon asked.
"The Narrow Sea?" Lars laughed. "Aye. I went to Braavos when I was young. Fine place. Spend a few extra gold dragons and you can take a boat ride with a lovely courtesan—now that was something."
The captain's tone was thick with nostalgia. Jon suspected that those same courtesans were the reason Lars had ended up where he was today.
Clang—clang—clang…
Bells rang out as White Harbor slowly came into clear view.
Most of the city's buildings were pale stone, their white walls gleaming in the morning light. The harbor was protected by massive sea walls, leaving only a narrow channel for ships to pass through.
According to the red flags flying atop the watchtowers on either side, captains received their signals. Bells to prepare. Red flags to proceed.
As the right-hand flag rose, merchant vessels like the Wave Treader began entering the harbor in turn.
White Harbor had been built later than most ports, allowing House Manderly to incorporate the strengths of other great cities. The watchtowers, in particular, bore clear resemblance to those of Braavos and King's Landing.
As the ships advanced, sleek war galleys bearing the silver merman sigil of House Manderly occasionally passed by.
Captain Lars explained that these were part of the Manderly patrol fleet, tasked with guarding the waters near White Harbor. Pirates from the Bite were never well-behaved, and constant patrols were necessary.
After a short while, the Wave Treader finally dropped anchor at a smaller pier.
After nearly half a month of travel, Jon had arrived at the greatest port city in the North.
Bidding farewell to Captain Lars, Jon led Ghost through the streets toward the Manderly seat.
Though Ghost was already the size of a large hound, he drew little attention. Jon had been training him to wag his tail, and most people mistook him for an unusually large wolfhound rather than a direwolf.
Lord Wyman Manderly had already departed for Winterfell. Thus, the one who received Jon was the heir of White Harbor—Ser Wylis Manderly.
Wylis had inherited the Manderly family's distinctive bulk. From afar, he looked almost like a sumo wrestler from the far east.
"Ser Wylis," Jon said politely, "thank you for your hospitality. May my old gods and your Seven bless the beautiful city of White Harbor."
"Hahaha! Jon, welcome!" Wylis boomed. "My father specifically instructed me to host you well. Come—let's have a drink first!"
After giving Jon a crushing hug, Wylis led him inside.
Since it was still early, they only shared a few cups of wine in the castle's dining hall.
Though Wylis repeatedly urged Jon to stay as a guest, Jon declined, citing a family mission.
After resting briefly, Wylis escorted Jon to the commercial docks.
Here, most ships were large vessels—either from southern Westeros or from across the Narrow Sea.
When Jon entered the castle, he had only Ghost at his side.
When he left, a beautiful falcon perched calmly on his arm.
This had been a specific request Jon made when Eddard sent word to White Harbor.
Though the system only provided rough attributes and professions, after more than ten days of experimentation, Jon had begun to understand its functions.
He had also discovered how to use Soul Energy—to improve attributes and professions. Normally, one hundred points could raise either by one level.
Further upgrades would require more Soul Energy.
Jon suspected Soul Energy was linked to life itself, but hunting wild animals had yielded no system prompts.
In the end, he increased his Strength by one point and raised his Skinchanger profession by one level.
Saving reserves was always wise.
With the profession upgrade, Jon could now perfectly control two creatures.
The second was the falcon on his arm.
House Manderly had already secured passage for him aboard a labor recruitment ship bound for Myr, the most developed center of handicrafts in Essos.