Solo Leveling in Westeros

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The ship swayed gently as it cut through the dark, cold waters of the bay of Ice. The moon hung high above, casting its silver light on the waves and illuminating the deck where Aeron stood, leaning casually against the ship's rail. The chill wind of the North bit at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the storm that had been raging within him since he left Bear Island. His cloak fluttered behind him, and his shadow—the one that hid so much more than it revealed—stretched long and silent under the pale light. 

Behind him, a familiar voice broke the quiet. "By the gods, how did you manage to convince my father to let me come?" 

Aeron turned his head to see Raya standing there, her hair catching the moonlight like flames in the dark. She was bundled in a thick cloak, though it did little to hide her sharp features or the glint of curiosity in her eyes. 

He chuckled, pushing off the rail to stand upright. "I didn't convince him," Aeron replied, his voice calm but laced with a hint of amusement. "It's just that power talks, and I knew exactly what to say." 

Raya narrowed her eyes playfully, a smirk tugging at her lips. She crossed her arms and tilted her head, her tone dripping with mock wisdom as she replied, "Aye, 'power talks,' does it? Is that what you southerners say when you're spinning tales to sound clever?" She dropped into a mockingly gruff, exaggerated tone. "'Oh, I'm Aeron Grim, a man o' power and mystery. All I need is me shadowy ways to twist the great lords to my bidding.'" 

Aeron burst out laughing, shaking his head. "Well, I suppose it worked, didn't it?" 

Her smirk softened into a warm smile as her teasing faded, replaced by sincerity. She stepped closer, leaning on the railing beside him and gazing out at the endless expanse of water. "In truth, though, thank you. I've always dreamed of leaving Bear Island. Not because I hated it, but... there's more to see out here. More to live for than snow and pine trees." 

The dense trees of the Wolfswood loomed overhead, their gnarled branches forming a tangled canopy that filtered the pale winter sunlight. The sound of hooves crunching through the thin layer of snow and dry leaves echoed through the still forest. The group of riders, all clad in sturdy northern gear, made their way through the winding paths with practiced ease—all except one. 

Aeron sat stiffly atop his horse, gripping the reins with a white-knuckled determination. His posture was awkward, his movements jerky and uncoordinated as the horse beneath him snorted and shifted. It was painfully clear to anyone watching that he was no rider. 

The guards accompanying him, hardened men of Bear Island, exchanged amused glances. It didn't take long before one of them, a bearded man with a broad grin, leaned toward his companion and muttered just loud enough for Aeron to hear, "Looks like the lad's spent more time on a stick than a steed." 

Aeron turned to look at her, her words stirring something within him. Her earnestness reminded him of the dreams he once had in another life—a life where freedom and adventure seemed so far out of reach. 

"Don't thank me just yet," he said, his voice quieter now, more serious. "I'm not planning on going back. Not to Bear Island, not to anywhere. From now on, I'm moving forward. I'll just keep going, wherever the road takes me. It's not going to be easy, and it'll definitely be dangerous." 

She didn't hesitate. "It doesn't matter," Raya said, her tone firm, her eyes locking with his. "I'll just follow you." 

Aeron blinked, taken aback for a moment. But then, a small smile curved his lips. He turned back to the sea, watching the waves lap against the ship's hull. "Right," he said simply, a single word carrying the weight of his acceptance. 

The other guard chuckled, shaking his head. "Aye, poor beast looks like it's carrying a sack of potatoes." 

Aeron heard every word, but his expression remained as stoic as he could manage, though his cheeks burned with embarrassment. He refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing him react. Instead, he focused on keeping himself steady, even as his horse seemed determined to jostle him with every step. 

What made it worse—infinitely worse—was the sensation he felt within him. His shadow soldiers, unseen by all but him, were watching. Their presence hummed in his mind, a silent camaraderie that he normally found comforting. But now? Now, they felt amused. He could almost sense their silent cheers and encouragement, like a group of loyal friends watching him make a fool of himself and loving every moment of it. 

"That's right," he muttered under his breath, barely audible to anyone nearby. "Cheer me on, why don't you? So helpful..." 

Raya, riding slightly ahead, turned her head at his words. "Did you say something?" 

"Nothing," Aeron replied quickly, offering a strained smile. 

Raya raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as though she was holding back a comment of her own. She'd seen his struggles and, to her credit, had refrained from teasing him—at least so far. 

Another guard chuckled and called out, "If you fall, lad, try to aim for the snow. Might soften the blow!" 

This earned a round of laughter from the men, and even Raya couldn't suppress a small grin. Aeron sighed and muttered under his breath, "I'm sure I'll have a grand audience for it, too." 

But even as the embarrassment lingered, he straightened his back and steadied himself. If he couldn't be good at this, he'd at least endure it with dignity—or something close to it. The shadows that swirled within him felt more amused than mocking, and despite his irritation, there was a strange comfort in knowing they were there. 

"Laugh it up," Aeron said quietly, a smirk tugging at his lips as he glanced at the forest ahead. "Let's see who's laughing when I'm the one keeping us all alive." 

For the first time in a long while, Aeron felt a strange sense of companionship. Not the kind he was used to the transactional, superficial bonds of survival but something deeper, something unspoken. 

The woods grew eerily quiet, save for the steady clop of hooves on the forest floor and the occasional murmurs of the guards. Aeron had just muttered his defiant words—words meant to soothe his own bruised pride—when the gods themselves seemed to answer, almost mockingly, as if to test him. 

A low growl rumbled through the air, breaking the uneasy silence. The horses stiffened, their ears twitching nervously. The guards immediately reached for their weapons, their laughter replaced by the tension of seasoned men sensing danger. 

"What was that?" one of the guards muttered, his voice low, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. 

Before anyone could respond, a shadow moved in the corner of Aeron's vision. Then another. And another. Shapes emerged from the dense underbrush—silent, predatory, and unmistakably wolves. 

But these weren't just any wolves. They were large, far larger than the ones Aeron had read about or seen in stories. Their eyes glinted like amber in the dim light, and their movements were calculated, almost intelligent. 

The pack encircled them, cutting off any means of escape. The guards drew their weapons, their breaths visible in the cold air as they readied for what was to come. The horses neighed and shuffled nervously, their riders struggling to keep them calm. 

Aeron's eyes scanned the pack, his heart pounding. But it wasn't the wolves that froze him in place it was the creature leading them. 

From the shadows stepped a beast of legend, larger than any wolf he could have imagined. Its coat was a mix of silver and white, its massive paws leaving imprints in the snow-covered ground. Its eyes burned with an intelligence that sent chills down Aeron's spine. 

"A direwolf," Aeron whispered, his breath hitching. The words left his mouth almost involuntarily, as though his mind couldn't process what he was seeing without naming it aloud. 

The guards exchanged wide-eyed glances, their faces pale. "A direwolf?" one of them stammered. "Here? This far south?" 

The massive beast let out a low growl, its ears pinned back as it regarded the group with a predator's intensity. The rest of the pack followed suit, their growls rising in a chilling chorus that seemed to echo through the forest. 

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If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Shadow Monarch in DC

AND 

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