[Chapter Size: 3500 Words.]
Third Person POV
Cokeworth.
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...
Today we celebrate the funeral of the founder and the first king of the most powerful empire that has ever existed, Arctic.
"They will never forget you," a voice whispered at an event that is considered worldwide, even though it is being held in the capital of the empire, in the northern part of that world.
"Perhaps I achieved immortality after all. Not physically, but my name will remain for the next thousands of years..."
"Yes, you were always a just king, wise and cruel when you needed to be."
"I have more blood on my hands than any other man in the history of this world."
"Yes, you do. But you unified the kingdoms, you saved the world twice and brought a reign of peace and stability. You never coveted becoming the king of the world or seeing people kneel before you.... You only needed to take care of your empire and your family, but in the shadows you stabilized the world so that it could function the right way, without slaves, without lack of money or extreme poverty, people have access to knowledge. Your actions changed Arctica and those other continents on the other side of the world."
"It is good to see my actions here after two centuries in the making.... It is good to see that they were able to bring this kind of world."
He watched hundreds of thousands of people shouting and crying. The vast majority of them had been born in the last hundred years. There was almost no one from his first era alive, from the time when he founded the kingdom. Those who were there were the dwarves and the children of the forest, who had very long lives... All those who had been with Jon... only their names remained in the history books.
He felt an emptiness because of that. Not even his children and grandchildren had lived as long as he had. His wives had left him a long time ago. The last one lived until one hundred and sixty years... Most of them, Ygritte, Rhaenys, Daenerys, Hiyori, Val, and Arya, died between one hundred and twenty and one hundred and fifty years.
His children lived until two hundred years and he was left alone with the other descendants... but even so, he still continued. He stood beside each of them on their deathbeds.
He attended every single funeral.
They always said it was horrible for a father to bury his own children, and Jon understood that feeling very well. He had more than 20 children.
But he could not complain. That was the line of his life. And he could understand that this was the natural course of things.
And even in the midst of the sadness of seeing his wives and children die over those two centuries, he remained alive. He wanted to maintain stability and worked until his last breath to create a world that he desired.
Perhaps that goal had never crossed the mind of that 8 namedays old child who grew up in Winterfell, living as a mistreated bastard. That was before his life completely changed thanks to the intervention of the gods. He who dreamed of being a famous knight who fought honorably, a boy who wanted the Stark name more than anything, a boy who wanted to know the name of his mother, if she was alive, if she cared about him...
His goals changed over time. He went beyond the Wall, built a kingdom, became a king with only 11 namedays... Strengthened and established his kingdom, fought countless wars.... His goals changed a lot every time he created something new and thought about what would come next during those 250 years...
At the end of his life, he sought a better world for everyone. He created systems that would guarantee that, at least for the next hundreds of years, or perhaps thousands.
As long as they followed his teachings. After all, not everything lasts forever, and there was no desire in him to live in this world for eternity just to guarantee stability.
Wars will always exist, and one day his system may break due to greed or the failure of the people who hold the reins he left behind, but that would be work for the next generations who would come and lead the world.
The weight of the world should not rest on just one person for the rest of history.
If the world returned to wars, to the same conflicts he faced in his first hundred years of Empire, in order to finally establish peace, that would be a problem for the living. It was not up to him to take on that stability as well.
Because of that, he decided to die of natural causes, trying to do his best before going to meet his children and all the women he loved. He was sure they were waiting for him on the other side.
Or so he thought, because it seemed he would have to wait a little longer to meet them.
"It is strange to see my own funeral. Why are you showing me this after everything you told me?" Jon could not help but comment while watching the scene.
"I wanted to show that you were loved, even though you became an old man."
"I was quite strong." Jon laughed.
Well, he might have been two hundred and fifty years old, but he was still a bull. There were stronger warriors than him in this era, obviously. His body no longer moved as it once did, but he was not weak. And certainly there was no one who could get past his royal guards, who always protected him, always renewing the best to take care of the founding king.
Jon had no longer ruled Arctica in the last years. No. He had already passed on the throne. He just made sure that the descendant — whom he could not even name without sounding repetitive due to the degree and level of kinship — was his direct chosen one.
Jon preceded all the branches into which the family had split, becoming the new dragon families, like in old Valyria, but with a system strong enough not to cause a Dance of the Dragons among them. It was like living in a Valyria where the families lived controlling the empire in every place of Westeros.
Among all of them, he chose who would take his place. He chose the most just and wise among his descendants, and he himself made sure to mentor him for 2 decades. He did not prioritize the direct line of succession, although this descendant came directly from his first son, Loki.
The son of Seryna.
She was the last of his wives to die, at 160 namedays... She loved him until her last breath, and because of that, he also repaid that loyalty. He stayed with her and took care of everything alone, during the last moons the entire time, when she was about to die.
Not even giants lasted as long as the dwarves and the children of the forest. Jon tried to extend her life as much as he could, but one day she died in his arms.
She died sleeping and smiling...
Jon would never forget how much he cried that day... When he saw those blue eyes, lifeless.
She had said the night before that she had been a happy woman, that she had lived a satisfied life by his side. And that if she could go back in time, she would repeat everything again just to live their life one more time.
The last woman Jon loved romantically had left on that day, and that was a ruin for him.
"Now we need your answer, Jon Arctic." The question came, and Jon pressed his lips together.
He had a proposal... When he died, the old gods came to him and gave him an option. In truth, it was a request.
To reincarnate in another world, because that world would need him. And once again the old gods would choose their champion.
Jon sighed. "Alright. I accept."
He closed his eyes.
"Jon..."
"I loved my life by your side, I will always love you..."
"You promised that one day you would rest,"
"My love..."
"Ñuha prūmia."
"Colo! Daddy!"
"One day, I will be like you, daddy!"
"Father, you always said that the world needed to be better than it was for you"
"Grandpa!!"
"You taught us to be strong."
"Do not carry the weight of the world alone, father."
"You have already done more than any man could ever do."
"I am dying... But swear that you will never forget me, Jon. Swear!"
"Take care of our children and grandchildren!"
"Father... I am dying... Thank you for everything... Now I will find mother. We will wait for you on the other side, together with the muñas!"
"Are you proud of me, father? Did I live so that you could be proud of me?"
The voices echoed like old memories.
'I am sorry. Our meeting will have to wait a little longer.' Jon lamented...
"Could I return here one day?" Jon asked, moved as he remembered his family, but he was curious about the possibility.
The entity that was with him seemed to ponder. "Traveling with the physical body between worlds is very rare. Very, very rare indeed. But there is still that possibility. I do not think you will have that ability, but this world will continue functioning with you in another world..."
Jon nodded. He said nothing more. "I understand. Alright. Then I will go."
"As much as I see hundreds of people crying and praying for me, it is not something I would like to keep watching."
He said that while feeling very disturbed as he watched them carry his body in a coffin sealed with valyrian steel, filled with riches, being carried throughout the entire city.
The entire kingdom was there. All the families that his descendants had formed, people from all over Westeros, as well as all the most important noble families besides his own, were present. Not only that, people from the entire world had also come to see the funeral of the founder of Arctica being taken to the castle, where he would remain beside his children and wives in the crypt where Jon had wished to be buried.
A white dragon with a white beard, being the oldest dragon in the world and one that could speak the human tongue, was making a speech to the masses in the middle of the kingdom, while his cold body was being taken to him before going to the castle and being sealed in the crypts of the royal family.
They wanted him to be buried inside the great tree, but he refused. He wanted to be with his family, even though it had been Leaf who authorized it at the time.
Jon wanted to remain among his wives and children. He knew he would not offend the gods with that. It was only a desire to be with the people he loved.
"I understand... alright."
The entity already felt compassion for Jon. He did not want to see the end of the funeral, and in the next moment everything changed.
"Good luck, Jon Arctic. Whoever you become in that other world, get to know it, adapt, grow stronger, and prepare for what is to come."
"And it is perfectly fine for you to be young again. You do not need to be a grumpy old man trying to create systems that shape the way humanity lives." The entity mocked.
Jon snorted. "If you were that idiot R'hllor, I would punch you."
"Also do not be an arrogant old man who thinks he can punch gods. Anyone else would turn to dust for such disrespect."
"I changed the world and even planted heart trees all around the world. The religion of the old gods became the most powerful in the world. You owe me a lot." Jon said that not because he was seeking something, he only reminded them.
The entity did not seem angry at his words, it seemed to look at him with a certain affection, which made Jon make a face.
"I know... Listen to one thing, Jon. We have loved you since you touched that tree when you were eight days old. We knew that we would love you that day and we will always love you."
"Why are you saying that?" Jon could not help but be surprised.
"Because I thought you should know. You were never a test subject or a piece like you spent part of your life questioning... I assure you that, regardless of whether you fail or not in this new world, we will bring you back to your family."
"But I know that you, regardless of failing or not, will do everything to succeed. That is why, in the name of all the gods, we wish you good luck."
Darkness came right after Jon could respond to that revelation.
He woke up practically without air, while his head immediately tried to orient itself.
His breathing was heavy.
He felt cold, he felt pain in his body. He was sweating, he had a fever.
"What is happening?" he murmured before looking around.
He was lying in his bed. An old room, with a wooden structure. There was a headboard on the bed. The place smelled of leather and old parchment.
I... Jon, not the boy he was now, could barely believe the memories that were beginning to torment his mind.
In one moment he was a grumpy boy who had finished his fifth year and studied at a school of magic called Hogwarts. In another, memories of an empire being built by him, which he ruled for two and a half centuries. These memories came like an avalanche into his mind.
That added another fifteen years of experience in that world: a grumpy and rejected boy, whether because of his poverty, his horrible appearance, or his bitter attitude.
As well as more than 250, a bastard who cleaned the stables and was mistreated by his stepmother, became a king and the most powerful man in the world, to the point of shaping the entire world.
Severus Snape could hardly believe the memories of Jon Arctic. Or, Jon Arctic living as Severus Snape.
What a mess...
"Damn, how did I become so grumpy like this?" the boy himself grumbled in the next moment.
He much preferred his personality as a king, even though in the last years as an old man he was no longer as cheerful as in his youth...
He looked at a small mirror and grabbed his wand from behind the pillow. He was about to cast a spell, but soon realized he could not do that. Not with the Ministry monitoring any use of magic done by minors.
He began to remember the rules of that world.
Severus got out of bed, almost unable to believe how thin his current body was. Even on his deathbed, he could wield a sword.
"Damn, how did I become so weak?" he muttered, cursing under his breath.
If this was that world, he needed to adapt.
He went to the mirror and picked it up, lifting it. The crooked nose was in place. The greasy hair was there as well. Only the scowl had been replaced by a more curious look. His face seemed more indifferent than grumpy, which was good.
But there was something even more different.
His eyes.
They were no longer black.
Just as one day he had gray eyes that changed color after an event that changed his life in that other world, here his memories also brought a characteristic from the other world.
His eyes were now green and bright.
"This will draw attention," he immediately murmured. Questions would be asked. He would have to hide it or invent a good excuse.
In any case, he found himself looking at the mirror for a while, until he decided to set it aside.
He sat down on the bed again.
His body was still a little fragile, but it was recovering quickly. In fact, he began to use wandless magic.
All the discomfort he had begun to feel was soon relieved by a green energy flowing through his entire body.
He immediately remembered a few things and took off his shirt.
He began to see several scars spread across his body.
"That bastard..." Severus immediately turned his thoughts to his father, the cause of most of those scars.
As Jon, he never had his father alive. Rhaegar died even before he was born. His uncle was the closest thing he could have to a father, but he had failed in many matters and never truly managed to be that figure for him. And when things were starting to get better, he lost him. Ned was beheaded in King's Landing...
But in this world he had a father. Just not the one he imagined.
A drunken father who caused the end of his mother.
Like Jon, he never knew what it was like to have a mother, Lyanna died in childbirth... He even met her later... As a spirit, he loved her, yes, but he could never say that the great Jon Arctic had the warmth of a mother.
Here, on the other hand, there was a mother he had in this world who loved him. That woman loved him as her son.
Jon still had those memories strong in his mind.
But his father ruined everything.
He had his share of guilt in that. From what he saw, he was not the one who killed her directly, but if he had not been so selfish, that might not have happened.
Even before Hogwarts, she was run over, all because his father wanted her to buy alcohol that night, demanding it from her, and she went out in the middle of a dangerous storm, a car lost control as it passed...
Since then, he had been left motherless.
He watched the scars on his body caused by his father begin to disappear. It was his healing power, that of Jon Arctic.
That indicated that the powers from his past life were still with him.
He had always been a warrior, but both the magic of nature and the fire and ice that flowed through his body were part of his being. No one could match him in the other world.
The blood and shadow sorcerers envied him. It was no wonder they tried to kill him, at the same time seeking to discover his secrets. Jon had a good number of battles against them, until he had to go after them and simply wipe most of them out.
A battle against the shadows in Asshai happened... That was one of the greatest he had in his life.
Some survived, still wanting to discover his secrets, but they never succeeded in trying to capture him. Perhaps some of those who survived might still try to steal his body kept in the crypt of the castle, perhaps.
Well, that was now work for the people who lived in Arctica.
Severus decided to set that thought aside and looked at his wand.
It was not a medieval world like the one he had lived in before. Here, humanity had evolved in technology, but there was also a part of this world made of magic, where he was inserted.
This would be a great adventure for him. A world of magic and technology. A world where physics, chemistry, and even metaphysics were on one side, while the inexplicable — such as magic, runes, potions, and spells — existed on the other.
Severus still felt an emptiness for being alone. He would have to remain in that world before returning to his family.
But he was also excited in some way.
That passion for knowledge that Jon Arctic spent part of his life acquiring in the green vision with the three-eyed crow... That was something that had not been seen in the founding king of Arctic for a long time, and it began to sprout in his chest.
He had an entire world to explore, and to make his own magical and non-magical revolutions.
How could he not be excited about that?
He took a deep breath as he put his shirt back on.
He did not want to become the man who would save that world. No.
He wanted to be more than that.
He wanted to be the man who would change the world.
That flame of ambition began to shine again as he imagined his future achievements in that world.