3 Chapter - 3

I tell Skitter to stay out of sight, and she instantly flies and hides in a tree while Fenrir, who was sitting next to me, goes from friendly dog to terrifying hunter mode. I can see the protective instincts of my companion kicking in and feel reassured that we can handle whatever comes our way.

It didn't take long for me to reach where the commotion seems to be happening and my anxiety turns to surprise as I see a group of bandits surrounding a young boy who was lying in a pool of his own blood, with an arrow protruding from his chest. I couldn't help but think, 'This place sure has a lot of bandits, this is the third group I've run into and it's only my second day here.'

-----------

He regretted everything. The day had started like any other, after waking up he had heard the news that his father would be returning home in just one more day while he was breaking his fast. With a smile, he had gone to the courtyard to train with Robb using wooden blades. He was getting better in swordplay, as evidenced by the fact that he finally disarmed Robb.

However, before he could celebrate his victory, he heard a word that brought him down. A word that had been thrust upon him at birth, a word that he had no say in.

"Bastard."

He didn't see who had said the word nor did he care, it wouldn't matter anyway. Normally, it would not have affected him any more than usual, but this particular day was different. It was his nameday. He had finally turned ten and one, and before the day even began properly, he was reminded of what he was born as. Unlike in previous years, his father was not there to help him.

The weight of the word was too much for him to bear. He couldn't take it anymore. He ran away from the courtyard, ignoring everyone shouting his name, with no care for where he would end up. He was certain that anywhere would be better than being here where he was only known by that accursed term.

But he was wrong. Oh, how wrong he was. He had run out of Winterfell and hadn't stayed on the road for long, and ran into the forest to hide in case anyone came looking for him. It had seemed like a smart decision at the time. "Stupid...stupid," he kept muttering as he continued to run through the forest, motivated by the noises following him.

He tried to take in large breaths of air to keep running, but the cold northern air just kept biting into his lungs, and his stomach kept reminding him that he had not eaten anything all day.

"You can stop running, little bastard. We won't harm you...much," one of the men chasing taunted him.

"It entirely depends on how much you run," another added.

"Yeah, we mostly want you alive. Can't ransom a dead body, can you?" another chimed in.

He kept hearing the voices taunting him, and their voices seemed to be getting closer. His mind unhelpfully connected the dots, telling him that there were probably bandits who were in Winterfell, had seen him run away, and decided to follow him so that they could ransom him off later.

Panic set in as he realized that he could not keep running for long. He pushed himself to run faster, but his legs were growing weaker with every step. The bandits' laughter grew louder, and he could hear them getting closer.

He looked around frantically for a place to hide, but the dense forest offered no refuge. He stumbled and nearly fell, but caught himself just in time. He knew that he couldn't keep running much longer.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, and he lost his ability to breathe. He tumbled to the ground, unable to do anything anymore other than listen to the footsteps approaching him.

"Fuck, Rolf. Why the fuck did you aim for his chest?" one of the bandits cursed.

"I wasn't. I was aiming for his leg, but the little runt wouldn't stop running," Rolf replied.

"Now what the fuck do we do? We can't ransom the Stark bastard if he's dead and has an arrow sticking out of him," another bandit added.

'Oh, so that's what that pain was. I have an arrow in my chest,' he thought numbly as one of the bandits used his legs to roll him over.

"He ain't dead, Will," one of them said.

"With how much he's bleeding, he won't be for long," Will replied.

"What do we do now?" another asked.

"Best we kill him and get the fuck out of here before someone sees us," Will sighed at the lost coin and suggested.

He felt helpless, lying there on the ground unable to move a muscle with an arrow in his chest. He didn't want to die, not like this. He had always thought that he would meet his end in battle, fighting in a great war, not at the hands of a bandit with bad aim.

"Awwooooooooo….."

Just before Jon felt like he was going to pass out, he hears the howl and the bandits freeze in their tracks.

He feels a glimmer of hope that maybe he could live to see another day. But that hope is instantly crushed when he hears a growl from behind him and he realizes that the bandits were scared of something very big and dangerous behind him and he was in no position to turn and look.

From his very limited vision he sees the biggest Direwolf he had ever seen striding into view, letting out a fierce growl that sends shivers down the spine of the bandits.

"What the fuck is that thing, Why is it so big?" One of the bandits whispered, his voice trembling with fear.

Before they could think of running, The bandit who had shot an arrow at him starts screaming when something flies into his face and everyone turns to look at him.

"Rolf, no!" One of the bandits shouted.

That seemed to be their final mistake as he sees the massive direwolf jump and use the bandits distraction to its advantage and quickly lunges at Will, and rips his throat out with a sickening crunch, before anyone else could register what had happened.

The remaining bandits panic and try to flee, but direwolf was too fast for them. The not so small bug which had started the fight picked off the remaining archers with its sharp pincers, while the direwolf took down the rest by dismembering whoever was closest to it. The sound of flesh being ripped apart and the screams of the bandits filled the air as the battle raged on.

"Run!" One bandit shouted as he tried to flee, but was quickly taken down by the bug.

The battle was intense, and the sounds of howling, growling, and screams filled the forest. The bandits tried to fight, but they were no match for the animals. In the end, none of them managed to escape, they lay dead or dying on the forest floor.

Jon stays paralyzed in fear and shock as he looks at all the death in front of him, the giant wolf and the scary insect that had been mercifully ignoring him until now. He prays that they keep ignoring him but that's when he sees another boy, slightly older than him, come out from the trees and walk towards the direwolf. He tries to warn him to run away, but no sound comes out of his mouth.

After the boy reaches the wolf, the entire air around the wolf changes from dangerous to friendly, and the huge insect just hovers around him. The boy pets the two animals who still had blood dripping from their mouths and legs like it was the most normal thing in the world.

---------

I look at the boy, who is most definitely Jon Snow, laying on the floor looking at me trying to comprehend what he had just seen while still unable to make any sound courtesy of the arrow in his lung. I send Fenrir and Skitter away to start collecting the bodies that were spread about in the forest and approach Jon alone and ask, "Are you alright? Nevermind, Stupid question" .

I shake my head and place my hand on his neck to numb his chest. Before he can protest, I quickly remove the arrow from his chest and heal the wound. He takes in a deep breath, sitting up slowly and staring in disbelief at his chest, which was now free of any holes. It takes him a few moments to speak again.

He looks up at me in awe and asks, "Who are you?"

"The name's El," I reply. "What's yours?"

"My name is Jon Snow," Jon said.

"Are… Are you a Mage? You can do magic, can't you?" he asks nervously, both afraid and excited about the answer to come.

I chuckled, "You could say I'm more of a Healer than a Mage."

Jon looks at me in awe, "I've never seen anything like this before. How do you do it?"

I shrug, "It's just something I can do. Not really sure how."

"Can you show me!?" Jon exclaimed, jumping up to his feet and nearly bouncing in his excitement.

"Unless you are leaking blood from anywhere else I'd rather not" I say which calms him down a bit

Jon nodded, "Thank you, El. For saving me."

I shrug, "No need to thank me. So you hungry?"

I hadn't expected to run into Jon Snow outside of Winterfell as I had never heard about anything like this happening in the story, so I improvised and helped him by dealing with the bandits and healed him so that he doesn't die and to show him a small portion of my powers.

Now, I could just go to Winterfell with Jon and that would guarantee me a meeting with Eddard Stark. I could show him my healing abilities to get a place to stay and a job at whatever the equivalent of a hospital was in this world. I could stay there and experiment with my powers until the plot begins, which should be about eight years from now after I got a good look at Jon, who looked about eleven years old.

I continued to act like I didn't know who Jon was and tried to make small talk.

"So, where are you from?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

"I'm from Winterfell," Jon replied, still trying to process everything that had happened.

"Oh, nice. I'm on my way to Winterfell too. You'll have to show me the way though, I've gotten lost twice already," I said sheepishly, feeling a little embarrassed.

----------

Jon sat next to a fire, eating some cooked meat, opposite of El and Fenrir, who were also eating. He still couldn't quite believe everything that had happened in the past few hours. He had foolishly ran away from Winterfell in order to get away from the people calling him a 'bastard' and see his father

His idiocy had almost led him to be kidnapped and killed, only to be saved by a boy only a few years older than him who had healing magic and two very scary pets. His mind was still filled with a mix of emotions, fear, gratitude, and confusion. He was still trying to make sense of the events that had just transpired. He felt grateful to El for saving his life, but at the same time, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of person was capable of such power and control over dangerous creatures. He decided to take it one step at a time and go back to Winterfell with El.

"Do you want to rest for the night or are you in a hurry to get back home?" El asks Jon after they finished eating.

Jon looks a little embarrassed as he explains that the reason he left Winterfell was that he wanted to see the army coming home and meet his father and conveniently leaves out the main reason. He adds that if they left now, they might be able to find the camp of the army. El give Jon his best 'Are you fucking stupid' look, but then sighs and agrees, as he is also curious to see what a medieval army looks like with his own eyes.

They pack up and set off into the night, with Jon taking the lead and El and Fenrir close behind, Skitter following them in the air.