20 Chapter 20: Old Tongue

Before the Rhoynar and the Andals came to Westeros, only one race of man had ever crossed the narrow sea. The First Men. They invaded the land of which would become the seven kingdoms. Coming into direct contact with the children of the forest, a non human race that would wage war against the First Men for hundreds if not thousands of years.

Eventually, the two sides came to terms with one another and lived peacefully together. The First Men adopted their gods and some, particularly in the North, adopted their language. The original language of the First Men was a harsh and crude thing, using rough unpleasant sounds to communicate. They had a limited writing system which was replaced later on with more eloquent forms of writing.

On the other hand, true tongue, the language of the children of the forest, has been given far greater praise. The name that the children called themselves in the true tongue is those who sing the songs of the earth. True tongue is said to be the very voice of nature, the sound of the wind through the leaves, the fire burning at the stake, and the waves churning at the earth.

As far as most historical records go, the language of the children of the forest is unintelligible to humans, and impossible to be spoken by men. Only the children of the forest could hear and imitate the voice of the earth. There is no written language for the true tongue.

But there is another written language, one that predates the written language commonly associated with the First Men. Runes. The earliest runes trail back to the Dawn Age. Back during the First Men's colonization of Westeros when they did not have an established written language. Most runes don't represent letters or words but entire concepts, places and objects. It's thought that some of these runes even have magic to them.

The meaning of many runes are still debated to this very day. But most arguments end up in dead corners. After all, there are no official records that go far enough to prove anything. Or at least, that's what most maesters thought.

Jon closed his hand over the spine of the leather bound book. It's beautiful white dyed leather cover looked magnificent with it's gold lock and elegant title, shining in gold. The pages were crisp and new, but the content inside went back generations upon generations upon generations.

"It must have been a nightmare to put this together."

"A waste of time. Gifting such a thing to a man aspiring to be a knight. That's fit for a scholar, not you Jon Snow."

Jon glanced at Ser Rodrik's red face with brief amusement. "I am much more accomplished as a scholar than as a knight. If I went to the Citadel they'd make me an official maester in less than a year."

Ser Rodrik sat down next to Jon and poured himself another glass of wine. "Ay. But becoming a maester brings no honor and no glory. You would be no more than a servant to some lord."

"True. But becoming a knight isn't much of anything. How many knights are there in Westeros? Far too many to keep track of. Knighthood is not as grand as lordship."

Ser Rodrik's face puffed up like a balloon. "Do you aim for lordship Jon Snow?"

Jon could only smile. Lordship was just a title. It didn't mean anything. What was important when it came to lordship was the land they could hold and the men they could lead into battle.

"No. I don't intend on becoming a lord. It's not as if the king will give me land for my skill with a sword. The highest honor he will give me is a place on his kingsguard. A useless position for which I will waste my life away for."

"If a place on the kingsguard is a useless position, then being the master at arms of Winterfell is nothing. You don't intend on returning to Winterfell, do you?"

"No. I don't. There is nothing for me in Winterfell, or the North for that matter. I'm sure my brother would grant me a holdfast to take of, perhaps a bride to give me children and servants to take care of me, but that is not enough. People think of me as the smaller version of Eddard Stark, dutiful and loyal. They are wrong.

"I want more than a pile of rocks in a freezing tundra. Even if Lord Stark handed me Winterfell this very second I wouldn't be satisfied. There are greater things than lordship or land or honor."

Jon lifted up the book in his hands for Ser Rodrik to see. "The higher mysteries of this world are hidden to the eyes of men. I intend on being the first to understand them. I believe that is my calling in life. You may think me mad Ser Rodrik, but this my dream, and I will do anything to achieve it."

Ser Rodrik's eyes practically burst out of his eyes. He seemed to want to say something, but his mind was too muddled from the wine. "You~you think that book will let you use magic?"

"This? No. I've already read this book twice since we've left Winterfell. It's nothing more than an assortment of symbols and what they may or may not mean. A great step forward for understanding the written runes but not what I'm looking for. It is in Asshai that I will find my answers."

"Are you m~mad? None of us will follow you to Asshai. You may think of yourself as a lording but you are not our lord Jon Snow."

Jon rose from his seat and tucked his book under his armored pit. "You are correct Ser Rodrik. You will not follow me to Asshai, neither will the men that follow me now. This is a journey I will go on by myself. Once I become a knight I intend to leave Westeros entirely and sail east."

Ser Rodrik also rose. "No you will not. I will not let you go to a cursed place like Asshai. That place is full of witches and demons. It is the breeding place for evil."

"I have already escaped Winterfell Ser Rodrik. I can escape the anger of an old man just as well. I care not for titles of honor of fake glory that will be forgotten as soon as I pass. You are just another obstacle I will overcome Ser Rodrik. Heed my words."