LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 6: Across the Narrow Sea
The wooden planks of the ship creaked beneath Jon's boots as he stepped aboard. The crew, rough-looking traders from Eastwatch, barely spared him a glance. Gold was gold, and they asked no questions when he handed over the last of what little wealth he had.
The dragon egg remained wrapped tightly in furs, secured in his pack. No one knew what he carried. He intended to keep it that way.
The ship set sail at dawn, the cold winds pushing them southward. The Wall faded behind him, and for the first time in his life, Jon Snow was leaving Westeros behind.
He stood at the bow, staring at the endless horizon. The North had been his home, his exile, his burden. But now, it was only a memory.
Tormund's parting words echoed in his mind. Try not to die, Snow.
Jon exhaled. He had no intention of dying. Not yet.
The journey was not easy. The Narrow Sea was restless, the waves churning with an unnatural force. The crew spoke of storms ahead, but Jon felt something deeper in the air—something ancient.
One night, as the ship rocked violently, he woke to the sound of whispers.
At first, he thought it was the wind. But as he sat up in his cabin, he realized the voices were coming from his pack.
The egg.
Slowly, Jon unwrapped it, his fingers brushing against the cold, scaled surface. The veins of red and black pulsed faintly, like embers hidden beneath the ash.
Then, the whispers became clear.
Valyrio Māzis.
The Dragon Comes.
Jon's breath caught. He did not speak High Valyrian fluently, but he knew enough to understand. Someone—something—was calling to the egg.
Ghost, curled at his feet, let out a low growl. His red eyes flickered toward the shadows of the cabin.
Jon turned sharply, gripping Longclaw. The room was empty. Yet, the air felt heavy, thick with something unseen.
The whispers faded, but the feeling lingered.
He had not yet reached Essos, but he was no longer alone.
Something was watching. Waiting.
And Jon Snow—Aegon Targaryen—was walking straight toward his destiny.