268 AC, Winterfell
After we survived the Long Night.
I saw how the gods use us, humans, like toys.
I used greensight so long, so deep, that I began to see things that no human should see.
I sent visions to chosen descendants.
Not random. Carefully selected.
Thanks to this — thanks to them — we will manage to build the Forge.
Extraordinary.
A Forge powered by fourteen destroyed flames.
You just need to prepare it beforehand. Before the shepherds find the lizards.
Then you need to... grow one of them.
A lizard that devours its own.
When it grows up — it will fly to the Forge.
And it will wait.
If you have this... if everything is correct — then the time will come for the last step.
Northern steel.
Forged from the sap of the greatest Weirwood.
Take the sword of fiery steel.
Find the Divine Lightning in Storm's End.
Go to the Forge.
Kill the lizard. Its blood will serve for hardening.
And then the weapon will be created.
One that can even kill a god.
So the next time they play with us — we will be waiting.
Remember.
Winter is coming.
And we will hunt in it.
After reading:
„Father... what do you think about this?"
Rickard was silent for a moment, staring at the words written on the parchment, as if trying to burn them with his gaze.
„So it's not just dreams..." he finally said quietly, more to himself than to me. „He must have sent them to you."
He looked at me with an attention I hadn't known before. As if he was looking not at his son, but at... a chosen one.
„From what we can deduce... the Forge is in Valyria. Maybe even in its very heart. Among the ruins, where the air still smells of ash."
„Among the Fourteen Flames" I added.
He nodded. Slowly.
„Our ancestors... were responsible for the destruction."
He fell silent. He took a breath of air, as if each subsequent word could break something.
„During the Dance of Dragons, there was a wild dragon that could not be tamed."
„Cannibal " we said almost simultaneously.
Rickard narrowed his eyes. There was something... icy in his gaze.
„That fits. "A lizard that devours its own.""
He paused, as if mapping it out in his mind.
„So... you must prepare the weapon. The one described in the book."
„And prepare for Winter. Not just the one that lasts years."
He approached the table. He leaned his hands on the wood, bent slightly. His voice was low. Strong.
„Your dreams... it's a warning."
As if weighing between pride and fear.
„A dragon takes a wolf."
He fell silent. As if weighing the meaning of these words himself.
„It means that someone from the royal family will kidnap someone from our family."
He sighed. Quietly. Almost imperceptibly. But in a northern house, even that sounds like a scream.
„The next part of the dream..."
„Two wolves burned by fire..." I whispered quietly.
Rickard did not respond. He didn't have to. He nodded. Like someone who knows the taste of loss before it even happens.
After a moment, he continued:
„Then the houses of Stark, Baratheon, Tully, and Arryn will rebel. They will join forces. And... overthrow the Targaryens."
He looked into the fire.
„Then the Lion kills dragons."
His voice was dry. Hard.
„It will be the Lannisters."
„They will enter under the pretext of loyalty. And then Tywin will do what Tywin does best."
He fell silent for a moment.
„He'll probably kill the children and the queen. For "order". For "peace"."
Silence. Only the crackling of fire.
„Baratheon will become king."
„Because his grandmother was a Targaryen" I added.
Rickard looked at me with a mixture of surprise and acceptance. He nodded slowly. He said nothing — but a glint appeared in his eyes. A glint of a lord who sees the approaching storm.
After a moment, he said:
„We still have time. For now, there are only three people in the royal family."
Rickard spoke calmly, like someone who sees an avalanche — but before the first tremor.
„But we know what is coming."
He looked at me. Carefully. Without emotion — but with expectation.
„Besides that... did you want to add something else?"
I nodded. Slowly.
„Yes."
„Since the first dream... I started thinking about how to improve the situation in the North."
Rickard did not flinch. He did not raise an eyebrow. But the tension in the air changed. As if standing before me was not a father, but Lord Winterfell. Ready to listen to a report from a steward. Not from a child.
„I started drawing new ship plans. The course of the canal. A way to improve crops through field rotation. And I have a few ideas."
For a moment he was silent. And then — in a cold, controlled tone — he said:
„Good. Present your ideas."
He looked me straight in the eyes.
„I'll see if they have potential."
He made a short pause.
„Since our ancestor sees hope in you... I will give you a chance. Convince me."
I took a breath. Deep. Not because I was afraid — but because this was the moment. A moment when something could change. Or everything could be lost.
„The first — and largest — project is the Northern Canal."
Rickard did not react. He listened.
„Not through Moat Cailin. There it would be faster, cheaper... and deadly stupid."
„Why?"he asked shortly.
„Because it's an open gate for the Iron Men. One successful raid, and White Harbor burns, and we lose control of maritime trade."
Besides: if the Manderlys have the entire water route under them — their significance will grow. And loyalty can be different when someone feels too strong.
Rickard was silent, but slightly nodded.
„My proposal is a canal from Torrhen's Square to the White Knife River. Longer. Harder. But the entire route through Stark lands."
I paused. I looked at the map I had placed on the table.
„Thanks to this, we gain:
— A new trade route.
— Faster military mobilization in case of war.
A pretext to sell it to the king as a "vision of development for the barbarians of the North"." Here I allowed myself a shadow of a smile. — In his words, not ours."
Rickard looked at me without a word. He listened carefully. He did not interrupt. And for him, that meant: he was thinking.
„And then... we can extend the canal from Long Lake to Last River. This way, Winterfell will become the center of northern water routes. On one side — exchange of goods. On the other... military logistics."
I lowered my voice.
„And in the process, we'll gain more influence over Bolton lands. Not through war. Through routes. Through trade. Through dependency."
He did not react with a word, but his gaze became colder.
Not out of displeasure — rather because he understood.
Exactly what I was talking about.
About what is not spoken aloud. About real power.
„The next idea" I continued „is introducing a new system in agriculture in the North. Four-field crop rotation. To start... we could test it on a small scale. Observe for two years. If the results are satisfactory — larger yields, less depleted land — we can promote it more widely."
I made a short pause. Not for drama. For breath. Because even I, with all my planning, knew that this was a lot for one conversation. But I wasn't finished.
„Thanks to this, we will reduce the need for food from the South."
Rickard did not comment. But his hand lightly touched the table. If he were different, I would have considered it a sign of approval.
„Next thing: fleet.
The North has neglected its fleet for years. The Iron Men are arming themselves."
Rickard slightly raised an eyebrow. Attention, interest. A point for me.
„I have ship plans. Several variants."
I approached the edge of the table. I placed a roll of parchment.
„Additionally" if we build the canal, as we discussed „I propose preparing a new port right away.
In the west of the North.
Located at Saltspear, at the mouth of the river from Torrhen's Square."
I moved my finger across the map.
„Here. The perfect place. Sheltered, but with access to the sea. A natural bay, sufficient depth. And besides..."
I stopped my hand at the inlet of the strait.
„A chain of barriers."
„Stretched across Saltspear — like in Oldtown. A blockade in case of threat.
It will prevent a maritime attack on Moat Cailin or Torrhen's Square."
My father nodded — slowly, like someone who begins to see the map differently than before.
„Finally" I added, as if it were a minor detail „we will need to rebuild and plan Winter Town.
If we really are to be the center of northern water, trade, and military routes... more people will start settling here. Merchants, craftsmen, ships, caravans."
I looked him in the eyes.
„ I propose starting to plan this now. So it doesn't smell like King's Landing."
This time, really, he raised the corner of his mouth. For a Stark, that's a laugh.