Realizing that his people might have fallen into a gods’ conspiracy long ago, Peinan felt both embarrassed and angry. He glanced at Lynd and asked, "Why are you so hung up on ancient history? Everything you’re asking about is from the past. Shouldn’t your attention be fully on the White Walkers right now?"
"For , the White Walkers are just one of many important matters," Lynd replied, full of confidence. "I’ve been preparing for them for over ten years. This war may bring losses, but I don’t believe I’ll be defeated."
He went on, "What concerns more than the White Walkers is the extre cold that will follow the Long Night. I need to figure out how to help my people survive in that kind of climate. And since you’ve lived through it, you can give the experience I need most."
"I’m sorry, but I don’t have any," Peinan sighed, shaking his head. "It all happened too fast. We made no preparations. All we could do was flee south, and even that got out of control. In the end, we had no choice but to pray to the gods and make sacrifices. If we’d had the knowledge and prepared ahead of ti, maybe things would have been different."
Lynd looked puzzled. "In your history, weren’t there ever Long Nights or Eternal Winters?"
"There were Long Sumrs and Long Winters, but never a Long Night or Eternal Winter," Peinan replied, thinking hard. Then he added with so uncertainty, "At least, I don’t rember there being any. But my mory is unreliable now. It’s possible it did happen—and I just forgot."
Lynd suspected as much. Events like the Long Sumr, Long Winter, Long Night, and Eternal Winter were likely caused by astronomical cycles, and such massive climate shifts would reoccur at set intervals. If a civilization endured long enough, it would inevitably encounter one—or several—such extre events.
From everything Lynd had seen, the White Walkers’ civilization must have been incredibly ancient. Otherwise, they couldn’t have created such grand and intricate architecture, nor wielded a power even the gods feared. That ant their civilization must have survived previous Long Nights and Eternal Winters.
Yet from what Peinan said, it was clear they had either underestimated the threat or believed their civilization too powerful to be affected. They assud they could weather anything—and ended up completely unprepared.
A sudden thought struck Lynd. "Back in your ti, did the Long Night and Eternal Winter co on suddenly?"
"Not exactly," Peinan said. "The stargazers had predicted it well in advance. But we were too proud. So proud that we believed..." He trailed off mid-sentence, either hesitant or unable to rember, then shifted awkwardly and continued, "When the Long Night arrived, everyone was caught off guard. In just two days, the skies went completely dark. Within five more days, extre cold had already covered more than half our lands. People panicked. Everyone fled south."
There was a trace of sorrow in Peinan’s eyes, though his face remained stiff and expressionless due to his transformation. The contrast between his frozen features and his mournful gaze gave him an eerie, unsettling appearance.
Lynd didn’t pay attention to that. His mind was already racing with concern—his preparations weren’t nearly enough.
According to Peinan, the extre cold advanced alarmingly fast, covering half the kingdom in just a few days. Lynd didn’t know the exact size of Peinan’s holand, but judging by the ruins that remained, it likely spanned across Essos, Westeros, and the northern tip of Sothoryos—roughly the sa scale as the empire Lynd hoped to unite.
Which ant what happened to Peinan’s world could very well happen to his. He’d thought his years of planning were sufficient to handle the coming Long Night and Eternal Winter—but clearly, they weren’t. And his efforts to explore and prepare Sothoryos needed to accelerate.
As Lynd was working through how to revise his plans, Peinan suddenly stood and walked to the edge of the cliff at the Fist of the First n, gazing northward across the icy expanse.
Lynd stood and followed. On the endless snowfield stretching to the north, he saw a group of White Walker cavalry rapidly advancing south. It looked like they were survivors who had escaped the battles with the Sisters of Redemption and the Silent Order.
Lynd didn’t find it surprising. His forces had already done well to destroy so many wights and White Walkers. If a few slipped through the Frostfangs, so be it.
Still, since they’d escaped his n, Lynd figured it was only right for him to clean up what remained.
But just as he was about to act, Peinan suddenly spread his arms wide. He let out a series of sharp, piercing cries, almost like a chant. The screeches tore through the wind and snow, carrying across the frozen plain and reaching the ears of the dozen or so White Walkers.
They reacted as if struck by a force of nature, falling from their undead steeds one after another. Their bodies trembled violently—then shattered into countless shards of ice. From the fragnts, glowing blue lights erged and drifted toward Peinan, gathering before him before flowing directly into his mouth.
"The human White Walkers you transford... they’re actually your food?" Lynd watched the scene unfold, and a thought struck him. His voice lowered as he asked the question.
"Yes," Peinan nodded. Perhaps it was the power he had just absorbed from more than a dozen human White Walkers—his eyes now shimred with a silvery-blue glow, and his gaze had grown much colder, far more in line with how Lynd rembered the White Walkers.
Lynd sensed the shift in him and instinctively rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. "You seem... different."
"I am," Peinan said, glancing at Lynd’s hand on his weapon. He admitted, "Each ti I devour a White Walker’s spirit, my body moves a little closer to the final transformation—and more of my mory fades."
"Then why do it?" Lynd asked, frowning. "Why consu the spirits of White Walkers if it pushes you toward losing yourself?"
Peinan didn’t answer directly. "Why do humans eat?"
Lynd’s frown deepened. "How much longer can you stay conscious—stay yourself?"
Peinan’s eyes slowly returned to normal as he replied calmly, "You don’t have to worry. The Three-Eyed Crow gave a piece of heartwood from a weirwood tree. It helps resist the final transformation. As long as I don’t absorb spirits without restraint, I won’t fully lose myself—for at least another ten years."
Lynd looked at him curiously. "What kind of arrangent do you have with the Three-Eyed Crow?"
"The sa as you," Peinan replied, eting Lynd’s eyes. "To completely destroy the White Walkers."
After saying that, he hesitated a mont, then added, "I suspect... he’s a survivor of the sa catastrophe I lived through."
Lynd blinked. "What makes you think that?"
"Because it was he who led that man—Euron—to ," Peinan explained. "It was also he who taught Euron how to open the sacred coffin, and who prevented —once outside its protection—from completing the final stage of transformation. He knows the steps of the White Walker transformation in intimate detail. Besides my people, I can’t think of anyone else who would know that."
Lynd raised an eyebrow. "So there were Three-Eyed Crows in your era?"
"No," Peinan shook his head. "But so of our people once studied under the Children of the Forest and learned how to beco greenseers."
Lynd nodded slowly. "And what’s your actual plan? How are you going to destroy the White Walkers?"
"The thod is simple," Peinan replied. "Kill the mother."
"Kill the mother?" Lynd frowned, not quite following. "You’ll have to explain that."
Peinan’s voice dropped. "During the original sacrificial ritual, a queen was chosen to beco the mother. That mysterious awakened being transford her into the origin—the source. She is the Mother of White Walkers. All of them co from her. If she dies, all White Walkers and wights will cease to exist."
As Peinan spoke, a legend sprang to Lynd’s mind—the tale of the 13th Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, the Night King, and the mysterious female White Walker. He recounted the story to Peinan, then asked, "Could that female White Walker have been the White Walker Queen?"
"Impossible," Peinan said flatly. "Would humans marry the livestock they raise? To my people, humans were no better than beasts. And the White Walkers hate all life even more."
He paused, then added, "But perhaps the story isn’t entirely baseless. If this Night King—like that Night’s Watchman Jon Snow—had the blood of the ancient ones, and had undergone a transformation between life and death, then maybe... part of the legend is true."
"What part?" Lynd asked.
"The marriage," Peinan answered.
Lynd frowned again. "Didn’t you just say your people saw humans as livestock—and that White Walkers hate all life? How could such a union be possible?"
"Because the ancient ones are not human," Peinan said. "The White Walkers are a kind of ancient one—an imperfect kind. And those who carry the blood of the ancient ones and survive a transformation between life and death... they are also imperfect ancient ones. In essence, they’re the sa. One represents death. The other, life."
As Peinan explained, Lynd recalled sothing: when White Walkers undergo their transformation, they gradually lose their mories. And those who were brought back from death while bearing the blood of the ancient ones—like Beric Dondarrion—experienced the sa thing.
Lynd asked, "The White Walker Queen and the Ancient One—were they ant to be married to complent each other?"
Peinan nodded. "According to the ritual, the queen chosen to beco the Mother was supposed to marry a clansman who carried the blood of the Ancient Ones and had undergone at least one life-and-death transformation. Their union would complete the final fusion of life and death and lead the tribe to transcend mortality. Unfortunately, during the ceremony, all those who had transford into White Walkers had changed too completely. They beca monsters that hated all life and slaughtered the rest of the tribe who hadn’t yet transford. The ritual failed." A trace of regret appeared in his eyes, and he sighed. "If it had succeeded back then, things might be very different now."
But Lynd didn’t share in Peinan’s regret. If that ritual had truly succeeded, humanity’s current situation would likely be dire. Judging by the strength and sophistication of the White Walkers’ civilization, humans would be nothing more than livestock or slaves—exactly as Peinan had previously described.
"The White Walker Queen is in the far north, in the Land of Always Winter. Are we going there to kill her?" Lynd asked grimly.
"No," Peinan shook his head. "In the Land of Always Winter, we have no chance of defeating her—much less killing her. We’ll only have a chance if we lure her out before the Long Night arrives."
"How do we lure her out?" Lynd asked.
"With bait," Peinan replied. "The Three-Eyed Crow was once an ideal choice, but sothing has happened to him. He’s no longer suitable. Fortunately, we now have an even better option."
"?" Lynd asked, pointing to himself.
Peinan shook his head. "You’re an Ancient One—that makes you the least suitable bait."
Lynd’s expression shifted as realization dawned. "Right. The White Walker Queen needs soone who carries the blood of the Ancient Ones and has undergone at least one life-and-death transformation. That would make Jon the perfect bait."
Peinan shook his head again. "I thought so too—until two days ago. But now I’ve found soone even more suitable."
"More suitable?" Lynd paused, then quickly realized who Peinan must be referring to. "Beric Dondarrion? The Lightning Lord? He’s been revived many tis. He must have the blood of the Ancient Ones too."
He described Beric’s appearance in detail. "Is that who you ant?"
"Yes," Peinan confird. "He’s extraordinary. He’s undergone so many transformations between life and death, yet he hasn’t completely lost his mory. He can still think clearly. It’s unbelievable. Among my people, even three such transformations would erase all mory. They’d beco little more than flesh shells—sacrifices to the gods."
Hearing that, Lynd frowned. He had expected that those with the blood of the Ancient Ones who had survived death would be powerful or revered figures—but he hadn’t imagined their ultimate fate was to be used as offerings.
After thinking for a mont, Lynd asked, "So what’s your next move? Are you coming with to the Wall, or..."
"I can’t go near the Wall," Peinan replied, shaking his head. "But I’ll teach you how to use a bloodline bearer as bait. You’ll control the process. The Mother will sense the presence of the bait. When that happens, she’ll lead the White Walkers and wights to assault the Wall. All you have to do is hold them off. I’ll find a way to kill her."
Lynd asked, "How will I recognize the White Walker Queen? If I get the chance, I’d like to strike as well."
Peinan thought for a mont. "She has two forms—both easy to identify. One is her form as a female White Walker—she’s the only one of her kind. The other is her Ice Dragon form."
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