The Ides of Summer | Game of Thrones

The Wights of Westwatch Bay {Legend}

{A tale of a forgotten time}

It was a day of deep cold at the end of autumn, and the dusk light was slowly fading. The men of the Westwatch were shivering and starving, their hunger magnified by the longing to eat the fish they were emptying from their nets. Only a few hours more and they would be inside by the light of the fire, with steaming soup and warm bread. There was mist rolling down the bank of the river, which one man found odd only because it was coming south, and the wind that was slicing through them like warm butter was coming from the west and blowing east. But he paid it no mind, as he hurried with his brothers to load the fish for the short journey back to their holdfast. 

It came time to set the nets back to the water to catch the next batch of shriveled bass for the next day. As the man tethered them to the anchor, he noticed again the mist, which was now upon them, circling around them and shielding the water from sight. He paid it still no mind, tossing the nets out into the void. When he heard the splash he turned to join his comrades and ride back. But as he did, something caught his eye, something on the opposite shore, beyond the wall.

A glint, he realized, a reflection of the light. Except that the sun was long gone, and the only light was trickling through the mist, which grew thicker by the moment, a haunting grey in prelude to the dark of night. He squinted towards the shore, trying to make out what he had seen. Then the mist cleared, only for a moment, a brief pause to allow him to see the figure. A silhouette, still as stone, stared back at him with piercing blue eyes that cut through him more intensely than the winter wind. Standing before him was a thing of myths; a demon that hadn't walked the earth in centuries, a monster of a bygone era...a white walker.