This was his home for many years, but the night Viserion fell at the feet of the Night King, Jon Snow knew the difficult choice he would have to make, the only choice.
They had planned the escape ever since the White Walkers had attacked. Eleven-thousand men ran to the rear with shards of obsidian in hand, weapons they were told to eat, piss and sleep with. Jon saw Davos Seaworth on a wayn pushed by five others. He caught glimpses of Dolorous Edd running beside him, and with a sigh, realized he would be the last Lord Commander to hold Castle Black.
Eleven-thousand men rushed from nooks, corners and corridors of the ancient castle, the castle that held the Wall for six hundred years, the castle which would not stand minutes after.
The rear gates had already been left open. Jon Snow stood with Dolorous Edd at the threshold, yelling at everyone to exit. “Let’s go, let’s go!” he said, gesturing wildly, as wildlings, Night’s Watch, Highgarden and Winterfell men rushed past each other through the narrow exit. Jon looked up to see Rhaegal leave from the top of the Wall as well, flying towards him.
When the last man exited, Jon told Edd to help him bar the doors from the outside. “Fat load of good that will do!” Edd yelled, as the snow thickened, but he helped him.
Between Castle Black and Mole’s Town lay a moderate expanse of woods, and it was there that Jon and Edd met the rest of the army. “Are they here?” Tormund asked, the moment they reached.
“Not yet. We got out in time.”
Eleven-thousand men waited for what felt like an hour, behind trees and bushes, ready for movement, ice daggers in hand. The winds became steadily heavier. People hugged each other for heat. Rhaegal was beside Jon Snow, snarling in ways that would have frightened Ghost, but the sight in front of them was yet still. “What’s keeping them?” Tormund kept asking, lesser out of curiosity, more to break the silence. “Do you think the watchers saw it wrong?”
Jon was skeptical. What else is there to see beyond?
The cold wind carried screeches.
Jon felt everyone behind him exchange glances at each other. He felt fear boil as the screams grew louder. I must be the light, Jon Snow kept telling himself. It was all he could do to stop him fleeing from the sounds.
They heard a thundering crack, a sound when lightning struck the earth. They saw a huge crack across the Wall. It widened slowly. “Savor the sight,” Jon yelled bravely, the sound still ringing in his ears. “This is what you’ll tell your kids when they ask-”
The Wall burst open, stunning him into silence.
It was the same place he could not abandon when Robb had called his banners. The same Wall that wept when days were warm. It was always there, cold, forbidding, unforgiving, bound by ice, stone, magic and time. The same place he could do nothing but watch helplessly, as the strongest structure known to man tumbled to the snow like a feeble house of cards. “This is real,” Jon mumbled to himself, as he saw the ice dragon behind the fallen white wonder, “this is happening.”
“Night gathers,” the voices said behind him, “and now my watch begins.”
Jon turned around, and saw the thousands of men with swords of obsidian grasped tightly in their hands, in their eyes the dancing flames. “We fight for each other,” he yelled, as the Night King’s dragon destroyed what remained of Castle Black. “Not for honor, for gold or women, but life itself. We fight to win!”
As the White Walkers tore open the doors Dolorous Edd and he had barred, Jon Snow mounted the dragon beside him. He gave Rhaegal a light kick, before it rose up to meet the Night King in the sky.
It shall not end until my death.
*
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