Chapter 19

Aegor was certainly embellishing the truth, but he wasn't outright lying. George R.R. Martin once stated that the world of Westeros exists on a spherical planet, slightly larger than Earth, with a greater landmass. Aegor, now living in this world, had felt this for himself—the atmospheric pressure and gravity were strikingly similar to Earth’s. If Martin's original setting applied here, with Westeros’ landmass being greater, then perhaps vast oceans to the west truly hid other lands or larger islands.

His claim of being a "transmigrant" was something no one would believe, and his foreknowledge of events and characters was his greatest advantage for survival. These secrets could never be shared. That made the vast, unknown Sunset Sea west of Westeros the perfect setting for his fabricated origins.

Aegor’s invented backstory wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment fabrication. He had used this tale when introducing himself to the brothers of the Night’s Watch. Its biggest advantage? It was impossible to disprove. He could add cultural customs and traditions to the narrative as needed, using differences as excuses for any gaps, shaping it however he liked.

The idea of a globe-spanning expedition, though, was an impromptu creation inspired during the banquet. Yet even this wasn’t baseless—it was drawn from real-world concepts and aimed at achieving a clear goal: catching Tyrion Lannister’s attention and securing a way out of the Night’s Watch.

To someone like Tyrion—physically disadvantaged but harboring grand dreams and a deep curiosity about the world—who could be more intriguing than an adventurer from a far-off, unknown land? By claiming to have funded the expedition, Aegor intended to leave the impression that he was no ordinary commoner, but someone with resources and sophistication.

In Westeros, birth determined everything. Aegor had learned this hard truth in his year at the Wall. Elevating his perceived background was a crucial tactic in leveling the playing field socially. Subtle implications of wealth and status, rather than outright declarations, were far more convincing and palatable.

For Aegor, who wasn’t naturally a liar or braggart, survival justified bending the truth. If deceit was the price of living, he was willing to pay it—no matter what.
----


While Aegor plotted his escape from the Night’s Watch, Jon Snow had quickly reassembled the broken swords, discovering something odd.

“This break is... strange,” Jon remarked, examining the pieced-together sword. He struggled to articulate it but knew something was wrong. “A steel blade shouldn’t snap like this.”

“Exactly,” Aegor interjected, taking the lead. “Normally, steel would show visible deformation. Here, the breaks occurred precisely where the swords clashed with the White Walkers’ weapons. Under the influence of ice magic, the steel lost its resilience and became more brittle than cast iron. When struck, it shattered completely.”

Jon stared at the reconstructed swords, realization dawning. His uncle's warnings now made sense.

“This is madness,” Tyrion muttered. He had no interest in the broken swords, nor did he care about the mechanics of steel snapping under duress. What intrigued him was Aegor's story of an unknown land across the ocean. Even though he wasn’t entirely convinced, Tyrion instinctively felt that Aegor’s claims held some truth. His voice lowered with indignation. “You, a man from an undiscovered continent—a potential guest of great importance to Westeros—were conscripted by a pack of northern barbarians to guard a wall? Sent to freeze beyond the reach of civilization? That’s outrageous.”

“It is,” Aegor admitted with a heavy sigh. “But what choice do I have?”

“I’ll find a way to get you out,” Tyrion said, his tone resolute.

Aegor froze, nearly choking on his own breath. That was exactly the outcome he wanted, but it had come so easily and swiftly that he found it hard to believe. Could his luck finally be turning?

“Thank you, my lord, but...” Aegor hesitated. “Is there any precedent in Westeros’ history for a sworn brother of the Night’s Watch to return to civilian life?”

“Not that I know of,” Tyrion said, shrugging. “Once you’ve sworn the oath, you’re either a brother for life or a deserter. But I didn’t say I’d free you of your oath. I said I’d help you leave.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Let me tell you a story,” Tyrion began. “Once, a nobleman fell out of favor during a political dispute and was forced to join the Night’s Watch. Years later, his allies regained power, and the nobleman—now a brother—was sent back to his castle under the guise of procuring supplies for the Watch. He lived out the rest of his days as a lord, drinking, feasting, and enjoying his wealth, all while technically remaining a member of the Night’s Watch.”

Jon, who had been focused on the broken swords, finally tuned in. “You’re discussing a Night’s Watch brother who abandoned his duties? Are you suggesting the oaths mean nothing?”

“Of course not,” Tyrion replied, mildly amused. “The man I mentioned wasn’t branded a deserter because the Night’s Watch officially acknowledged his position as a ‘supply officer.’ He remained in good standing because he provided valuable resources to the Wall.”
----


“So, the Watch only tolerates this because the benefits outweigh the risks of losing their support?” Aegor mused aloud, a plan forming in his mind.

“Exactly,” Tyrion confirmed. “The key to this arrangement is wealth. The Watch overlooks such transgressions when the brother in question proves more useful outside the Wall than on it. They’d rather receive supplies than enforce rules.”

Aegor scratched his chin, deep in thought. He lacked the wealth or influence to replicate such a scheme. But Tyrion, the son of the richest man in Westeros, could easily finance his release. Was it too soon to broach such a request? For now, he decided to wait.
----


“I’ve made my decision,” Jon said abruptly, looking up from the table. “I’m joining the Night’s Watch.”

Tyrion raised an eyebrow. “Do you even know what that entails? The Watch isn’t a place for glory.”

“I’m not seeking glory,” Jon retorted, his gaze steady. “I want to protect my family and the North from the threats beyond the Wall.”

Tyrion studied the boy for a moment before smirking. “A noble sentiment. Very well, let’s see if your resolve lasts.”

Then, turning back to Aegor, he said with a grin, “When I visit the Wall, I’ll see to it that we explore your... ‘options’ further. And perhaps I’ll finally confirm the truth of your stories.”

For the first time, Aegor allowed himself a genuine smile. Things were finally moving in his favor.