The following day.
The group rode along the causeway, the sound of hooves striking the wooden road and the occasional movement of the water their only companions.
Suddenly, Harry's gaze turned toward the seemingly endless forest with interest.
"Stop," Harry said softly, raising his hand.
Everyone immediately reined in their horses and looked at Harry curiously. Some glanced around to see if there was something there, but they saw nothing.
Harry looked to his right. There seemed to be nothing but trees rising from pools of water whose depth was impossible to judge. Moss-covered logs floated here and there, while the mist, fallen leaves, and hanging branches greatly obscured the view.
Despite being unable to see them, Harry detected several living beings a few hundred meters away, nearly a hundred in total, and two much closer. He knew they were watching them.
But to his surprise, he couldn't make out anything with his eyes alone.
"I know you're there. Come out," Harry called, raising his voice slightly as he continued searching with his gaze.
Immediately, all of his companions tensed and instinctively rested their hands on their weapons.
The swamp remained silent.
Harry let out a quiet sigh.
"I'm Harry Stark, heir to House Stark," Harry said, suppressing the embarrassment of having to introduce himself that way.
For some reason, he felt like he'd just said something Draco Malfoy would have said, but that was simply how things worked in this world.
That was when two pairs of eyes appeared among the bark of the trees. A moment later, the bodies attached to them seemed to peel away from the trunks.
The two figures moved swiftly through the branches before landing in front of Harry.
Everyone immediately drew their weapons, only to be stopped by a gesture from Harry.
Harry couldn't make out their features, as their entire bodies seemed to be covered in bark. It was surely some kind of incredibly skillful paint, but what he did notice was that they were short.
A characteristic of the Neck clans, according to the books. It was said to be the result of interbreeding with the children of the forest, ancient magical beings of small stature that were supposedly extinct.
"Young Lord," the two men said in unison. They had been observing the group, and clothing bearing the sigil of House Stark could not be faked, at least not by someone coming from the North.
Besides, they didn't believe anyone would dare impersonate the heir of one of the Great Houses of Westeros.
"We're heading to House Reed. I suppose it's as well hidden as your own home," Harry said with a faint smile, his eyes glowing softly.
Able to read their surface thoughts, Harry found that they were mostly confused, wondering how they had been discovered.
And he couldn't blame them. Their disguise was truly remarkable. Without magic, he would have dared to say it was impossible to detect them.
The men seemed to set aside their confusion before one of them replied.
"Young Lord, if you wish, I'll send word to House Reed so they can come out to meet you," one of the men said, looking at Harry.
"That would be perfect. Thank you," Harry replied after a brief silence.
"I'll return at once to deliver the message to my lord," the man said with a slight bow before climbing back into the tree and disappearing into the forest.
"My lord will surely want to meet you. There's an opening in the swamp farther ahead. I'll guide you there," the man said, taking the lead.
Harry and his group followed the man until they reached a small clearing beside the causeway where there were no trees or fallen logs.
All that could be seen was murky, muddy water, treacherous enough that anyone entering it in armor would likely never come back out.
Without knowing exactly where it was safe to step, every step was a gamble.
Suddenly, Harry and the others saw a small floating island made of intertwined branches drifting toward them. The small buildings on it were also constructed from surprisingly thin branches.
It wasn't as elegant as a stone castle, but Harry found the houses rather picturesque.
The floating island drifted close enough for two thick wooden planks to be laid across to the causeway, forming a simple bridge.
A man just as short as the ones they had seen earlier walked across the planks toward Harry and bowed deeply.
"Young Lord, I am Hile, Lord of House Fenn, bannerman of House Reed," said the black-haired, bearded man.
"My home is humble, but if you wish, you're welcome to spend the night with us. We'll also see that your horses are fed," Hile said with a smile as he looked at the future Guardian of the North.
"Then I'd be discourteous to refuse your invitation," Harry said with a smile as he dismounted, returning the warm gesture.
Everyone quickly followed Harry's example, climbing off their horses, crossing the planks, and stepping onto the island.
It had been built from thousands of branches, leaves, and algae—a strange mixture that allowed the artificial island to float.
A layer of earth covered the surface, with small shrubs planted around it. Harry imagined their roots helped reinforce the structure.
He also assumed the thick swamp water helped keep the islands afloat.
"It's quite impressive. How long does an island like this last?" Harry asked curiously.
"When the bottom layer rots too much and starts falling apart, we simply spread a new layer of moss and algae over it before adding more branches and leaves. Technically, it lasts forever, though at the same time we build new ones every so often," Hile replied, looking at the island that had remained afloat since he was a child.
Though at the same time, it was no longer truly the same island.
"It's remarkable that you live like this," Harry said with genuine admiration.
"We've had to adapt," Hile replied calmly, accepting the compliment.
"Please, I'll show you your rooms. You may leave your horses to us—we have some feed for them," the man said as he guided Harry onward.
The entire group spent the night on the floating island. Only members of the House, along with their soldiers and families, lived there.
In total, they numbered no more than a hundred, but Harry assumed that with their camouflage skills, knowledge of the terrain, and weapons, they would be a nightmare for anyone trying to enter the swamp.
The atmosphere was simple. There were no lavish feasts, music, or alcohol, only quiet conversations and food Harry had never tasted before.
He hadn't wanted to eat frogs.
Ironically, that was exactly what they served him.
Without even blinking, Harry smiled and placed the meat into his mouth before swallowing it.
With a certain amount of amusement, he watched his companions eat with stiff expressions. They wanted to refuse the food, but after seeing Harry eat it, they could only grit their teeth and silently swallow the meat.
...
"Are you sure?" Hile asked seriously as he looked at one of his scouts.
"I am. We didn't move or make a sound, yet he looked directly at me. I checked my camouflage, and there wasn't a single mistake. No one has ever discovered us like that before... except..." the scout said, trailing off.
"I see," Hile replied, frowning slightly. His gaze wavered before he sighed and rummaged through his belongings.
Taking out a scroll, he picked up a small twig with a piece of charcoal and quickly wrote a brief message.
He carefully rolled it up and handed it to the scout.
"Deliver this to Lord Reed as soon as possible," Hile said as he sat back down.
"Yes, my lord," the man replied with a nod before departing.
The scout boarded a small boat and disappeared into the sea of trees.
After reaching a certain point, he left the boat behind, climbed a tree, and continued on foot. Every so often, he stopped, cupped his hands around his mouth, and made a call remarkably similar to that of a bird.
A short while later, another similar call answered from a certain direction, and he continued on.
His steps were measured, sometimes even crossing through shallow waters that only they knew were safe.
After several hours, guided only by those calls, he finally arrived. The enormous floating island looked almost like an illusion amid the mist.
Placing his hands around his mouth once more, he imitated the cry of a bird and waited.
Within only a few minutes, a small boat came to retrieve him.
"What House are you from?" the man in the boat asked when he saw him.
"House Fenn," the scout replied as he climbed aboard.
"Oh. Everything alright in your area?" the man asked as he began rowing back.
"Hm, the Lizard-Lions have been quiet farther north," the scout replied with a nod.
"Oh, it's a bit different around here. There's been a small migration toward the south. No matter how many we kill, more keep appearing. They might start moving farther downriver," the man said with a faint grin.
The scout remained silent without commenting on his words. Seeing that, the other man said nothing more.
Once he stepped onto the island, the scout was quickly escorted to Lord Reed.
"My lord," the scout greeted respectfully.
"Do you have a message for me?" Howland asked with a nod.
The scout quickly produced the scroll and handed it over, watching as Howland's expression briefly changed while reading its contents.
"I see. Go and get some rest. Have something to eat," Howland said with a nod as he dismissed him.
Once alone, Howland looked at the scroll again, reading it a second time as though trying to convince himself he hadn't made a mistake.
"Harry Stark..." Howland murmured thoughtfully, unable to stop his mind from drifting back more than twelve years.
He had traveled with Ned across nearly all of Westeros in search of Lyanna. Closing his eyes, he could still remember seeing her lying there, bleeding, with a faint look in her eyes.
So different from the lively woman who had once defended him with a sword.
He couldn't help but wonder how that child was doing now.
Shaking his head, he looked at the scroll one last time before tossing it into the fire.
...
The following day, the group departed again after bidding farewell to the people of the floating island.
Before leaving, they couldn't help but watch as the island disappeared into the mist, as though the previous night had been nothing but an illusion.
Harry smiled, knowing that even without Moat Cailin, the North still had people guarding its entrance.
Around the campfire, Harry chewed on a piece of dried meat before glancing at Domeric, the corners of his lips curling slightly.
"Tell me, I brought a bit of roasted frog. Want some?" Harry asked, draping an arm over his shoulder.
Domeric immediately turned pale as he glared at Harry.
He swore he would never again accept the hospitality of a House from the Neck.
"If you'd gone days without eating, you'd welcome it like it was aurochs meat," Harry said with a laugh.
"If you like it that much, I can catch you a few frogs," Theon mocked, though his own expression was equally unpleasant as he remembered yesterday's meal.
That morning, they had even skipped breakfast.
"I hope you keep that same enthusiasm when we run into the Lizard-Lions," Harry said with a grin.
"I've seen their skulls. They're enormous," Roger muttered.
"If you're scared, you shouldn't have come," Smalljon teased.
"We'll see if you're still that brave when you actually see one," Roger replied, rolling his eyes.
"Come on, guys. Don't get nervous before you've even seen one," Harry said as he took one last bite of his dried meat and rose to his feet.
Stretching his body, he prepared himself for another long day in the saddle.
The group rode for another two days before reaching an area near the source of the Green Fork.
One of the three great rivers that formed the Trident, one of the largest rivers in Westeros.
This time, Harry didn't have to play hide-and-seek with the Crannogmen. Even as dusk approached, the great floating island could already be seen through the mist.
It even had several smaller islands surrounding it that served as watchtowers, all seemingly connected by hanging bridges.
Noticing their arrival, a man immediately emerged, followed by several others.
The man had red hair, a thick beard, and wore green clothing.
Looking behind him, Harry saw several soldiers following him, along with a woman and two children.
Harry smiled and dismounted to greet them.
"Young Lord, it's good to see you," the man said with a slight bow as he looked Harry in the eyes.
A vivid shade of green. His gaze was nothing like what he had expected from a twelve-year-old boy.
His expression froze for a brief moment as he confirmed his suspicions.
"Lord Howland Reed, I presume. I've heard a great deal about you. My father said he never would have returned from the war without you," Harry said, smiling at him.
"That's right..." Howland replied, still distracted by what he had sensed. For a brief moment, he had almost felt as though he were standing before a weirwood.
He had never experienced anything like that from a human being.
"These are my companions," Harry said as he introduced them, looking at Howland with slight hesitation. He truly didn't want to read the man's thoughts out of respect for the esteem his father clearly held for him, but his strange behavior was making him increasingly curious.
Howland also came back to himself and introduced his own family.
"This is my wife, Jyana, and my two children, Meera and Jojen," Howland said.
Harry greeted each of them with a smile. Howland's children appeared to be around the same ages as his sisters, Sansa and Arya, respectively.
"Please, come in. I've prepared a feast for your arrival," Howland said, finally showing a smile.
Following him, the entire group entered, horses... and bear included.
"Is something wrong?" Dacey asked quietly as they crossed the improvised bridge leading onto the floating island.
"I don't know. Maybe he's surprised that his friend's son turned out to be so handsome," Harry said, glancing back at Dacey.
"He's right to notice," Dacey replied with a soft laugh.
Harry chuckled quietly as they were led toward the hall.
The feast was far better than the one at House Fenn. There was a much greater variety of food, including chicken and fish.
Harry sat beside Howland, and the two shared a brief conversation about the culture of the Crannogmen.
Harry also wanted to ask about his father's past and the events of the war.
But Howland clearly had his lips sealed, always steering the conversation elsewhere or saying it was better not to dwell on such sad memories.
Little by little, the conversation died out, leaving Harry to shrug inwardly.
His companions also began hesitant conversations with the island's inhabitants, though before long they became increasingly animated.
Seeing this, Howland smiled faintly. His people were not well regarded across the continent. Even though House Reed was technically a noble House, they stood near the very bottom of the social hierarchy.
Noticing that the table was beginning to empty, Harry smiled and excused himself from Howland before leaving.
Howland watched Harry go, opening his mouth as if to say something before closing it again. He simply stared at Harry's back with a trace of concern.
...
The following morning.
Everyone sat down for breakfast.
Without wasting any time, Harry looked at Howland and got straight to the point.
"Lord Howland, to tell the truth, I'm interested in the Lizard-Lions. My companions and I want to hunt one. I was wondering where we might find them," Harry said with a smile.
Howland looked at Harry in surprise before hesitating.
"Young Lord... I truly wouldn't recommend it."
"They're dangerous, especially if you fight them in the swamp. If you don't finish them quickly, the noise usually attracts more," Howland said, frowning slightly.
"We're aware of the danger, but no one becomes a great warrior by training only with wooden swords," Harry replied calmly, without losing his enthusiasm.
"What if we accompany you?" Howland asked uncertainly.
Even his own people, who were accustomed to the terrain and to fighting those massive creatures, found them difficult to kill. He couldn't imagine a group of young nobles managing it.
"Thank you, but it really won't be necessary. I only want to know their general habitat and get an idea of the terrain—escape routes, dangerous areas, places we should avoid," Harry replied with the same unshakable smile.
Howland hesitated for a moment before finally telling him everything he knew about the area.
He repeatedly insisted that they enter the swamp from the south, explaining the safest escape routes and how to recognize the creatures while they were camouflaged.
Harry listened carefully to every word and once again declined when Howland insisted on accompanying them.
After saying their farewells, the group packed their belongings and continued riding.
This time, they traveled for another two days until they reached the border with the Riverlands.
To Harry's surprise, there were no checkpoints of any kind controlling the passage of travelers. Apparently, they were completely confident that no attack would ever come from the North.
He assumed it had something to do with the fact that his mother was Lady Stark.
Or perhaps it was simply because of his father's unquestionable reputation.
Without giving it much thought, Harry continued riding for several more hours until night was almost upon them.
Leaving the swamp behind and looking out over the fresh green grass, Harry smiled as he removed a few layers of clothing. The temperature had risen noticeably.
Everyone pitched their tents and lit a campfire. Theon distinguished himself by catching two rabbits and a pair of birds.
"This land is incredibly fertile," Smalljon said as he gazed across the endless green stretching toward the horizon.
"It is. But there's no reason to envy it," Harry replied, noticing his expression.
"The North has its own advantages. The nearly inexhaustible game in our forests and mountains is something the southern lands simply can't match."
"The North only seems poor because no one has ever had the means to develop it properly" Harry said before taking another bite of his meat.
"Until now," Dacey said, looking at Harry as her eyes fluttered flirtatiously.
"That's right. Until now. I'll make the North the greatest of all the kingdoms. One day, the southerners will beg to live in the North." Harry declared with a shameless grin.
Everyone let out a quiet laugh. They longed for the North's prosperity, but at the same time, they found the future Harry described difficult to believe.
----
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