After a long climb to the top of the wall, you finally arrived. The cold above blew around you like a sharp, icy blade, the snow mixed with the white of your hair and seemed to freeze your bones. Cregan seemed untouched by the cold, in his heavy fur cloaks, he walked silently beside you as he listened to you insist on the reason why your mother sent you to him. The man had been avoiding the subject since you arrived in Winterfell, ready to demand from him the oath that his father had made to King Viserys and your mother, Queen Rhaenyra.

As you got a better view of the barren, icy land below, the words died on your lips and your breath caught in your throat. You approached the tip, looking at the vastness that stretched out in front of you, the snow covering the ground like a thick, almost sacred veil. It was as if you could feel the magic of that place created by a now forgotten people.

"My father brought King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne to see the wall," Cregan began, his voice colder and sharper than the ice itself, "His majesty stood at this very overlook and saw his dragons, the greatest power in the world, refusing to cross it."

He finally glanced at you sideways, noticing how your eyes still took in the white and gray landscape with fascination. "Do you really think my ancestors built this wall to protect us from wildlings and the snow?" He asked, leaning a little more towards you.

"It protects us from what?" You asked looking up at him, his gray eyes penetrating your warm clothes and causing a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach.

"Death." The northerner replied simply, his voice getting lower and huskier, as if he were sharing a secret. One that sent a shiver up your spine.