3 Chapter 3

In the far reaches of space, I was launched through a snow-white door, emerging into a new and unknown world. The sensation was like being squeezed through a dark tunnel, a crushing pressure that seemed to compress my body in every way. After a few harrowing seconds, I finally emerged from the tunnel, my lungs burning with need and my entire body aching as if it had been molded by unseen hands. Involuntary tears flowed from my eyes, mixing with the burning sensation that permeated every fiber of my being.

I realized I was being carried by someone; my still blurry visions showed a man in a gray robe with a large chain, his serious face reflecting concern. He guided me carefully to a bathtub, where warm water awaited to ease the weight of my body. The feeling of cleanliness was invigorating, each touch of the soft cloth a reminder that I had left behind the darkness of space and entered a new world.

After cleaning myself up, I was wrapped in a small blanket and taken back to a spacious bed, which was occupied by a magnificent woman. Her otherworldly beauty was enhanced by the sweat of recent agony. Her eyes, deep and purple, met mine as the maester introduced me to her.

"Here is your son, my lady," Maester Othis announced, his calm voice breaking the silence of the room. "He is a big, healthy boy."

The eyes of Ashara Dayne, my new mother, lit up with joy and relief. "Thank you very much, Maester Othis," she replied gratefully, her soft voice echoing through the room.

Ashara stretched out her arms, welcoming me into her warm, motherly embrace. "Your name will be Alaric Stark, my son," she said with a tenderness that made my heart melt. "I hope you grow up strong and kind, ready to face the world that awaits you."

Alaric Stark. The name echoed in my mind, a newfound identity that wrapped around me like a second skin. It was a strong name, a name worthy of a Northern Stark. Acceptance came easily, and a bond formed between my new identity and myself.

However, a question lingered in my mind as I absorbed the significance of the moment. Why did everyone speak the same language that I knew, Portuguese? Before I could articulate my confusion, a voice echoed in my mind, clear and crisp.

"A gift from me, my son," said the voice, conveying a fatherly love I had never known before. "Enjoy your new life and make your dreams come true."

I was overcome with a sense of gratitude and disbelief. Who was this benevolent being who continued to guide me, to bless me with a second chance for no apparent reason? Before I could reflect more deeply on this, an overwhelming fatigue washed over me. My back felt heavy, my body sinking into the softness of the bed. The gentle voice whispered once more in my mind before I succumbed to sleep.

---

It has been a year and two months since I was reborn in Westeros as Alaric Stark. During this time, I lived in Starfall alongside my mother, Ashara. From the moment I opened my eyes to this world, I have strived to bring some happiness to her heart, which had been plunged into a deep depression by the death of Brandon, my father, the man she loved.

Over time, I achieved some success in this endeavor; she seemed happier and happier, at least around me. However, leaving that aside, from the beginning, I tried to leave the impression of being extraordinarily intelligent. I started talking at five months and walking at six, a feat that wasn't easy at first due to my underdeveloped vocal cords. But, with tenacity, I overcame this obstacle. Walking, meanwhile, was relatively easy, given my exceptional physical strength for a child my age. However, I realized that I would only reach my full supernatural potential when I was 16 or 17, a fact I gladly accepted.

Currently, I find myself in the Starfall library, hiding while reading an ancient book about House Stark. I seek to deepen my knowledge about her since the only information I have comes from the series and fanfics I read before my death. Just as I was about to finish my reading, I heard a voice behind me: "What are you doing here, son?" I started, jumping up and dropping the book on the floor. I looked back and saw Ashara staring at me.

I decided to tell the truth because somehow she always noticed when I lied. "I'm reading about House Stark, Mom," I admitted. A look of surprise and disbelief came over her face, and she asked me in disbelief, "Who taught you to read Alaric?" My nervousness increased as I replied, "No one, mother. I learned mostly on my own, sometimes asking Maester Othis for help when I couldn't understand a

 word." Upon hearing this, she became incredibly happy and proud, exclaiming, "My little wolf it's a genius! You make me proud."

Then she started tickling me, and I started laughing uncontrollably, begging, "Mom, please stop, Mom!" When she finally stopped, she picked me up and said, "Don't hide from me again, you hear, son? It's already lunchtime, and I was worried when I didn't find you." A feeling of sadness came over me for having made her so worried. I replied, sincerely: "I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll let you know where I'll be." She soothed my heart by saying, "It's okay, my little wolf. It's okay." And so, she took me in her arms to lunch.