《Game Of Thrones: Paladin Of Old Gods》 Prologue My name is Matthew, and I would like to tell you the story of how I became The Paladin of the Ancient Gods. I had just stepped into a not-too-full subway car, just a few stops and I would finally be home. I was carrying a bag with the logo of a comic bookstore on it. I was eager to get back home because I wanted to study the new D&D expansion (the 5th edition) well. ''Hehe!'', I thought. We''re starting the new campaign next Saturday and I can hardly wait! The wizard, I''m going for the wizard this time! For crying out loud, it was still cool to move the Paladin, but it''s time for a change!'' Suddenly, I noticed the little girl sitting across from me, she must have been twelve at most, and I wondered what she was doing out so late, but I soon decided to mind my own business. One last stop and the carriage was almost completely empty. However, before the doors closed, a rather tall man, wearing a black leather jacket and a hood that covered most of his face, managed to squeeze in. I shuddered. The hooded figure approached the young girl in a hurry. Surprisingly, she did not show the faintest signs of distress; on the contrary, I could almost see a hint of a smile on her innocent face. "Come with me now. Hell is your home. Don''t force my hand," the shady figure ordered. I wasn''t sure I had heard that correctly. "Pff!" the little girl exclaimed, scornfully. "It took you over an hour to find me? Michael, you''re losing it. Either way...the answer is still no!" The little girl''s voice had something sinister about it, despite the childish tone, and it made me shudder again. I was going to get up, I was practically at my stop, and that bizarre exchange was starting to make me uncomfortable. Maybe they were two sorts of extras in a live role-playing game? It wouldn''t have surprised me too much. But something wasn''t right. And I, for that matter, had always had a fondness for fantasy stories about heroes saving maidens damsels in distress. I knew enough about martial arts, but I didn''t excel at fighting and had never needed to test the moves I had learned. Something that day, however, prompted me to respond. "Excuse me," I said, stepping between the two. "I don''t know if the young lady knows you, but could you..." "Get as far away as you can, boy! It¡¯s for your own good!" the man interrupted me with lightning speed, drawing a sword. A sword, mind you! I stood frozen, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, like a deer in headlights, as if the world had stopped. But my numbness didn''t last long, a stabbing pain in my back reached my ribs immediately. I screamed. I looked down and saw a small hand sticking out of my chest, bloody and with very long claws. "Still worried about these useless insects, Michael..." said the little girl''s inhuman voice. "Damn you Lilith!", this is the last thing I heard as my vision darkened and a sense of exhaustion swept over me. Aaah! I plummeted into the void for what seemed like an endless time and suddenly landed on a chair made of clouds. "Forgive the transition, I am Archangel Metatron. No, this is not a dream. Yes, you are truly dead. And, yes, this is what you humans call Heaven. Shall we proceed?" The madman who claimed to be called Metatron spoke in a mechanical voice as if it bored him to repeat what he must have probably repeated many times. "Pardon the transition?!", I shouted, out of breath. "I''m pre..." "Precipitating for about three hours, I know. The time between earth and this dimension is different, you''re about the ninth billionth newly transitioned soul to tell me that," he interrupted, laconic.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Newly departed soul? Was I really dead?! He didn''t even look at me, he was rather busy consulting a big book, in fact. He reminded me of Alan Rickman, to be honest, and I was tempted to tell him so without a reason, as my despair at the loss of my sanity became conscious. "Before you tell me who I look like, you should know that you humans see us angels in the form you are most familiar with and feel most comfortable with. So please do not describe me, it is quite irritating. Rather, let''s see what we have here..." On the fine desk, made of what I presumed to be ivory, a gray scroll appeared. Metatron held it out and frowned. "Oh, no...," he sighed. "Another DDI." "An DDI?! What the hell does that mean? And by the way, could we dwell on the fact that I just died for a moment?!¡± I admit I panicked. "Yeah, alright! Alright! I''ve been letting myself go a little bit, lately, but... I swear: I quit smoking two years ago, and lately I¡¯ve been getting back into exercising and eating healthy! I''ve already confessed to my parents that I was the one who stole the money from the drawer and that it was not the cleaning lady! I''ve already paid back every penny with interest and I had to go all the way to that remote village in Peru to find Miss Carmen and apologize to her!" "Spare me this pitying scene ¨¤ la Chunck from The Goonies. Class DDI stands for Dimensional Diplomatic Incident. Oh, my dear...it seems you are entitled to an attorney," Metatron admitted with affliction. "Objection!" thundered a voice, which made both of us wince. "My client is entitled to compensation for the injustice done to him by Archangel Michael and Demon Princess Lilith! I similarly cite soul case number 895694679, soul case number 1012394583, soul case number 1590909341..." A ruckus broke out. I didn''t understand who the newcomer was and honestly didn''t even care. There was an awful commotion, various numbers and anecdotes were being lavishly dished out, and all I could do was tell myself that, yes, damn it, I must be crazy. Or dead. Several quotes later, Metatron resumed speaking. ¡°Figures¡­ bingo!" He rubbed his temples. The Archangel snapped his fingers. The one posing as a Better Call Saul lawyer muttered. "First, he''s not your client yet, and second, you don''t even know how or with what he wants to be compensated...calm down, Brother Seraphinus." "Ah, fair observations, mighty brother Metatron. I request a moment to communicate with my potential client alone!" replied Seraphinus, professionally. "Granted." Clap clap. Two claps and four marble walls surrounded Seraphinus-Saul and me. "Mr. Matthew, if you would allow, I should understand what you desire the most," the lawyer began. He touched my forehead gently with his index finger for a few seconds while closing his eyes. "I guarantee that I can represent you to get the best possible outcome," he continued. "I will fight tooth and nail, I will pour sweat and blood, I will fight with all the weapons at my disposal. I will be its vanguard, the light that will cleave its darkest darkness, the ship that will ply its stormy oceans, its oasis in the midst of a sandy desert..." ... and countless metaphors later. "I accept, I accept!", I shouted. "You are hired!" ''One more metaphor and I''d be sent to hell for Attempted Murder against a Servant of God,'' I thought with my hands in my hair. Seraphinus seemed satisfied. "Well, then I thank you, but you should at least know my fee before accepting. I charge one prayer per hour of service, but I could round it up as well." "A prayer an hour will do just fine, just tell me where to sign!", I interrupted him, before suffering yet another monologue with lofty rhetoric. "Oh splendid, then here it is." A scroll appeared and a pen floated in the heavenly air. "If he were to be reborn in another world, he would only have to pray by quoting the words listed below, repeating the verses for ten minutes in any sacred place. He could pay the amount within ten years without interest. Should he be unable to pray for health reasons such as coma, dementia, irreversible brain damage, premature death..." I signed without waiting any longer. Seraphinus was slightly baffled by my sudden decision, I believe that later he interpreted the act as a declaration of infinite esteem. Perhaps not to hurt his own ego. I only wanted this agony to end. His chest swelled, his face expressed pride and determination, he exuded a fighting spirit that would have put Leonidas and the Three Hundred Spartans to shame. "We''re ready," he announced. In the blink of an eye, I was teleported inside a glass cabin and made to sit in a plush armchair. I was breathless: I saw an earthen arena with a radius of at least a couple of miles in front of me, with two tiny figures in the middle, floating with their wings outstretched. Metatron wore an ebony plate armor flecked with silver engravings, a fire whip was in his left hand and a shining sword wielded in his right. Seraphinus, on the other hand, flaunted platinum armor, his arms and calves clad in leather harnesses, and he wielded a hammer thick with doodles in both hands. "Are you serious! You unsheathe The Hammer of Eternal Judgment for a simple DDI case?" Metatron thundered indignantly. "I don''t think the Sword of the Cosmos is any less, and besides, how can I repay the trust and respect shown to me by my client if I don''t give my all to represent his interests? Also, I''d like to remind you how much..." "Ahh! Let''s get this over with!" Metatron cut short. Seraphinus softened me up. I promised myself that in the future I would never, ever interrupt my defense attorney''s sermons again. ¡°Even if they were to last eons¡±, I thought, not knowing what awaited me. "Here and now I, Metatron, pursuant to decree No. 86 of the year 10,023 after the Creation, as proposed by our brother Gabriel and approved by the Great Father, call to order this meeting for the Negotiation Procedure." As soon as he had finished speaking, Metatron positioned himself on guard. Seraphinus did not hesitate a single second, he emitted a battle roar comparable to that of a hundred thousand bloodthirsty soldiers and charged towards his opponent. And thus the ''negotiations'' of my compensation began... Dungeons & Documents I stood there motionless, my eyelids refusing to close. "Indescribable." That was the only word I could utter. They had fought non-stop for six days, then a bell had rung who knows where and as if nothing had happened, the two angels had exchanged a handshake. I could be sure of one thing: if the best choreographers and special effects specialists on earth had worked together with unlimited funds to reproduce such a fight scene... they would have failed dramatically. I had watched every second as if mesmerized, and incapable of looking away. ''The fucking coolest fight ever!'' Each time death struck, they had been resurrected within moments and continued to fight. I''d managed to keep track: Seraphinus had been defeated five hundred and seventy-six times and Metatron fifty-three. It must be said, however, that every single time Seraphinus returned to fight, he did so with the exact same fervor and intensity. Metatron had remained imperturbable during the first ten defeats, but little by little I was able to sense his frustration: by the fortieth defeat, his calm had begun to crack. Seraphinus, meanwhile, had gained a good margin of victory. Surprisingly, during the course of the week, I also realized that I had not suffered from thirst, hunger or sleep at all. At the same time, I only needed to crave anything to make it appear in the blink of an eye and satisfy my palate. Salted caramel popcorn, Extra Fizzy Cherry-Coke, a comfy cloud chair with a vibrating massage option and a heavenly sight in front of me? This ladies and gentlemen is heaven. The conflict, in the end, was won by Metraton. Seraphinus joined me with a distressed look on his face, a parchment in his hand. "This is what you angels mean by negotiations?" I asked instinctively. "Yes," he replied. "Big Brother Gabriel''s idea when he discovered that angels could communicate through blows." He cleared his throat, uncomfortably, and added: Mr. Matthew... I have failed you. I promised you that I would get the best and I was sincerely confident that I could get more. Big Brother Metatron was completely unreasonable, though, you know? It''s like he took it personally. I also wonder why he invoked Big Brother Raphael''s name for such a skirmish. He didn''t explain what he meant by that "Why didn''t I agree to the shift change with Raphael! WHY?!?!"* I haven''t seen him this upset since the Great Flood, and it has to be said that Noah wasn''t exactly the nicest guy, but still.... " "Don''t say that Seraphinus," I interrupted him. "You gave it your all, I saw that. The fight was a unique, legendary event that will forever be engraved in my heart. I am happy and proud to have been served by an angel like you!" "You are kind, Mr. Matthew, but I would like you to read the conclusion first," he said, and then handed me the scroll. --- Soul Compensation Conditions No. 2,331,870,463,575,483 --- - Westeros; Northern Kingdom; Torrhen''s Square. - Year of birth 278 A.C. - Tallhart family; Son by birth to Lady Varra Tallhart (Free Folk, a living descendant of the legendary King Beyond The Wall Joramun) and father unknown. Legitimate son of Helman Tallhart Master of Torrhen''s Square. - Name: Duncan Tallhart. - Appearance: Strong resemblance to Actor Charlie Hunnam, steel white hair and green/silver colored eyes. - Civil and Naval Engineering (level: Master). - Agricultural, Forestry and Botanical Science (level: Master). - Geological Sciences (level: Advanced). - Architectural Science (level: Intermediate).Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. - Special: Knowledge of the Ancient Art of Damascus Steel. - Special: Knowledge of the Ancient Art of Castile Soap. - The soul will be equipped with a modified limited system to be able to acquire powers of a D&D 5e game class created and altered by the Archangel Metatron in collaboration with the angel Seraphinus: - Paladin class; Oath of the Ancient subclass. - Acquisition #1 choice Cantrip Druid class (from level 0). Conditions and guidance: - The system will only show the guest their stats one time following each level increase. - Each level can be gained only when the guest will acquire a sufficient amount of training and direct experience (level 1 included): it will not be communicated through a numerical system but can be perceived. In order to advance to the next level, after acquiring the requirements, the soul will have to forcibly meditate for at least one hour in direct contact with a sacred Heart-Tree. - Attribute statistics such as Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Intelligence, Willpower, Perception, and Charisma, can only be increased through hard work, personal improvement, and magical means in the world itself and not through a Level Up. - Intelligence and Willpower statistics will be adjusted according to the current amount possessed by the soul before signing the contract. - The soul will be able to recover the divine magic spent with eight hours of normal rest, four hours of rest within three hundred feet of a sacred Heart-Tree, or one hour of meditation within three feet of it. - The soul will be able to use and know all the spells of the Paladin class. It will not need any material or somatic components to cast. In addition, increasing the level of divine energy spent (slots) will be able to proportionally increase the range or duration of said spell. - Skills and abilities can be acquired and enhanced through practice and study. - For all other skills and powers follow the line of the rules and guides of ''Player Handbook D&D 5e''. Special Ability: The soul will be able to sense the level or degree of danger (CR) of any person or creature within thirty feet of it. Sample classes, Levels and stats adapted to the world of ''A Song of Ice and Fire'': Barristan Selmy and Arthur Dayne = ''Fighter'' subclass ''Knight'' [Level 10]; Melisandre of Asshai = Class ''Cleric'' subclass ''Adepta R''hllor'' [Level 5]; Bronn = Class ''Fighter'' subclass ''Battle Master'' [Level 9]; Azor Ahai = Class ''Paladin'' subclass ''The Way of R''hllor'' [Level 20]; Drogon = Young Ancestral Dragon Breed [Challenge Rank 13]. Statistics: Example Average Statistic of Common Person = 9 or 10 (Depending on location and culture) Strength (Gregor Clegane) = 22 Dexterity (Oberyn Martell) = 19 Constitution (Greatjon Umber) = 20 Intelligence (Qyburn) = 20 Willpower (Grey Worm) = 18 Perception (Anguy the Archer) = 18 Charisma (Rhaegar Targaryen) = 17 Details: [20] it is usually the maximum statistic that a human being from that world can achieve, with a combination of talent, aptitude, and hard work. The only exceptions to exceed this limit are: Divine Blessings, Magical Rituals, Scientific Experiments, and Natural Genetic Pool Errors (Aberrations-Mutants). Very Rare class object: - Bag of Holding (Created by the Archdruid Ancient King of the Children of the Forest). - Ownership: - The bag has a magic dimensional space of 3 cubic meters. It can carry a maximum capacity of 4 tons but the actual weight of the bag does not exceed 1.5 kg. - Any item larger than the bag itself can be momentarily resized to one-third of its original size during the insertion and extraction time. - Each inserted object will magically place itself in the safest and most optimal arrangement of the occasion and can be recalled by simply placing your hand inside and thinking about the specific object. - Time inside the bag flows more slowly without the presence of oxygen. The ratio is 1:365. - No Living Organisms can be placed inside. - The bag cannot be damaged by non-magical means. - If the bag is turned upside down, no damage to the contents is expected, but rearrangement and restoration of all items inside is required. Legendary Class Object: Unknown Properties: Unknown. Any interference generated by a foreign power will be counterbalanced in order to maintain equilibrium. In a brief summary: "The more your supernatural power grows, the more the power of the forces that oppose you will grow." As soon as the soul signs the document, it will accept all the above conditions and begin transmigration. Signature: ---------------------------- I was trembling. I couldn''t find the words to describe the excitement that engulfed me. I felt like I was gasping for air. Something inside me had been reborn, I felt like I could grow wings with just the power of a simple thought. "Se-Seraphinus, this is.... " "I know! I know!" blurted out my celestial attorney. "Total crap! And I couldn''t even get it for six days. I...I don''t feel like asking you to pay my fee in full. We can discuss and renegotiate and.... " "Great!", I shouted, to the point where I almost knocked him out cold. I forgot that in Heaven everything could be amplified. "Just awesome!" I repeated. "Oh, I can''t wait! I can''t wait! You''re great, Seraphinus, you''re really great!" But then... There it was, the sixth sense. Time slowed down. The memory of my heartbeat began to fill my ears, and after a handful of moments, it felt like my whole body was on alert. It screamed danger from each and every cell. Danger! Danger! And at that moment I realized. Seraphinus, as a depressed man on the road to an impossible suicide on account of the immortality factor, raised his face and smiled slyly at me. A smile that I didn''t like at all, as a matter of fact. I felt that I was only a few steps away from a precipice. A dark, endless precipice... ''Oh, no.'' *{Author''s Note: Seraphinus is unaware that he is considered an irritating, hyper-logorrheic, and clingy pain in the kingdom of heaven. Almost every angel in the kingdom tries to avoid Seraphinus more than the plague. The Great Father (God) has severely decreed a taboo on the matter. For although he has a ''strong'' personality, Seraphinus remains one of the most loyal and good-hearted creatures in heaven.} A Rise of a Legend in the Skies I had made a promise to myself. I had promised myself that I would never interrupt Seraphinus again... He had fought for me, given his best in the fight. The least I could do was stay and listen to him until he was done. ''You have to do this, Matthew! Whatever it takes!'' I thought immediately after Seraphinus began his endless sermon of anecdotes and past stories... [Logbook; Mission ''A Promise to Keep''; Day: ''0'', Time: ''5''] ''I can''t even make sense of his words anymore... No, I have to hold on! You promised, Matt: until the end! No matter what!'' -------------- [Logbook; Mission ''A Promise to Keep''; Day: ''1'', Time: ''2''] ''No, I can''t! I can''t! Damn it! I can''t do it! I''m weak! I''m sorry, Seraphinus.'' ---------------------- [Logbook; Mission ''A Promise to Keep''; Day: ''3'', Time: ''11''] ''Remember what Gimli said in the two towers "Keep breathing, that''s the secret. Breathe! Seraphinus has been fighting for me for a week! I must at the very least hold out for three more days! I can do this!'' -------------- [Logbook; Mission ''A Promise to Keep''; Day: ''11'', Time: ''6''] ''Okay, I finally realized that singing Kanye West for the 300th time is futile. Let me go with, Try by Pink.'' ''Where there is desire there is gonna be a flame! You''ve gotta get up and try! Try! Try!'' [Logbook; Mission ''A Promise to Keep''; Month: ''3'' Day: ''4'', Time: ''23''] ''That''s it!, this time I have decided. I''m going to get up and go there. I''m going to go to hell! Yes, I''m going! I want to explore every inch of the nine circles, to smell the sweet scent of ashes and sulfur, to throw myself freely into a fiery moat and feel a brand new pain. Anything but this!'' ---------------------------------------------- [Logbook; Mission ''A Promise to Keep''; Year: ''1'' Month: ''1'' Day: ''29'', Time: ''1''] ''I''m so stupid.'' After trying to relive every moment of my life in chronological order for the fifth time, I increasingly find that I can remember vivid details. Little by little everything is being enhanced. People I had offended or insulted unknowingly, girls I had ignored. I finally understand why my brother had come back that day bruised, bleeding with torn clothes. I was four years old and crying. I cried because I had lost my bicycle, the one my grandfather had given me as a present and which I considered my most precious possession. Scott had brought it back to me, gotten into a fight, and told everyone that he got hit by a car because he didn''t look before crossing. The next morning, however, my bike was back. And I didn''t even get to thank my brother in this lifetime. [Logbook; Mission ''A Promise to Keep''; Year: ''2'' Month: ''2'' Day: ''21'', Time: ''3''] Maybe there is something that could help me. By now, Seraphinus''s voice has been a neutral noise for over a year. But not enough. I wish with all my heart that I could listen to it as carefully as I should, but I can''t yet. But maybe I could try to practice my Aikido master''s most important lesson: a breathing technique that directs blood to the head to maintain focus. "Remember, Matthew, use this technique when you''re stressed or think you''ve reached your limit. It will help you," echoes a memory. "Breathe in for six seconds... Hold your breath for three seconds and finally exhale for another ten seconds."This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ''I''m just starting now. Who knows, maybe I''ll get used to it.'' --------------------------------------- [Logbook; Mission ''A Promise to Keep''; Year: ''? Month: ''?'' Day: ''?'', Time: ''?''] When I feared I would have to give up when keeping track of the passage of time was becoming impossible, it happened: it worked! It really worked! After strenuous efforts, I was able to reenter the flow of time. "...and then my former client Sun Tzu, interrupted me one more time by asking me if I wanted to listen to his book "The Art of War" for the third time in a row. "What a strange guy!" I thought, but I humored him, and so he started dictating it again: Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win...," Seraphinus continued adamantly. "And also be ''swift like the wind, slow like the forest, raiding and plundering like fire, not moving like a mountain, difficult to know like yin, moving like thunder..''" Irresistible, yikes. Seraphinus plans to pass on all sorts of useful information to me on my new journey. Although his love of detail at times seemed to amount to a death sentence for the spirit, I had to admit to appreciating his zeal. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Meanwhile, somewhere in the skies... "That''s it, I give up! I don''t give a damn if there are twelve of us taking turns! I don''t care about the bookmaker, the bets and the faith credits! There''s no point in keeping count anymore! The boy broke the record, period! I won''t listen to another word from Seraphinus, even if I have to start another war in the heavens!" an angel bellowed in front of an ultra-flat screen. It transmitted the image of another angel speaking and of a young soul listening attentively. And agony. "That boy is a monster! An abomination that shouldn''t exist! I should report him to the Great Father!" the new angel, who had arrived for the changing of the guard, exclaimed. ----------------------------- [Logbook; Mission ''A Promise to Keep''; Year: ''? 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Day: ''?'', Time: ''?''] -------------------------------------- [Logbook; Mission ''A Promise to Keep''; Year: ''? Month: ''?'' Day: ''?''; Time: ''?''] And then it happened... A tinkling sound and Seraphinus revived himself. "Whoops, another assignment has come in already. I''m so sorry, Matt, I can''t slow down time any more than this. I''ve almost exhausted the faith credits in my possession." There, after God knows how many decades spent listening to him, after learning not to wish for suicide in a land where it was impossible to die, I had thanked the here so-called "Great Father" for just existing. The Odyssey had finally come to an end! "Chilling how time flies when you have a good talk! Again, I apologize for interrupting the story in the middle like this, but I really have to go," said my jailer. "Yeah, creepy," I cackled, exhausted. "Go ahead, Seraphinus. It was great chatting with you." I had become a different person, I could feel it. Thirty, maybe forty years earlier, I had begun to notice that this session was gradually growing something within me. For example, my mnemonic ability? Sure, but not only that. The valuable and detailed knowledge of sciences and cultures of the aforementioned ''former clients or former victims'' of Seraphinus? No. It was my resilience. My spirit. My willpower. I felt calm as a breeze, steady as Mount Everest and ready to snap and explode like a gunshot at any moment. As if I had been torn apart and then built from scratch. ''A piece of raw Adamantium, heated by the flames of Mount Doom, tempered by the relentless blows of Thor''s Mjolnir, and turned into a jewel that would put Sauron''s ring to shame,'' I thought. "Wait, Seraphinus! Just a moment!", I suddenly realized. "I have a question and a favor to ask of you, if possible." "Of course Matthew, ask away," Seraphinus replied curiously. "I wanted to ask you if... yeah, I mean, is my family going to be okay? Will they have any kind of help with my, you know, unique departure? By the way... Are they still alive?" "Ah, don''t worry about that, yours is a special case. There is a protocol that has already been carried out. They will know that you are no longer among them, but that you left the earth in peace and for a noble cause. Yes, they are still alive and well, don''t worry. It''s quite complex and time-consuming to explain to you the time warp between the heavenly realm and the earth... mmm yes, it should be about three weeks since your departure. They suffered from your disappearance, of course, but they will also be helped properly if you know what I mean." And he winked at me. ''THREE WEEKS?! B-But... I must have spent at least two lifetimes here!'' I thought instinctively but at least knowing that someone had taken care of my loved ones reassured me. I got the gist and nodded, with a sigh of relief. "Good. Now could you hand me the employment contract for your services for a moment? I have a small change to make." Seraphinus froze for a few moments, with a small nod of sadness on his face. He quickly recovered, with a surrendered smile, he snapped his fingers and the scroll and pen appeared in my hands. I quickly glanced at it, made a couple of numerical marks and scribbles, and returned the closed scroll. I took my indemnity document and, before signing it, looked one last time at Seraphinus. "Thank you for everything, my friend. I really hope you''ll be the one to greet me next time," I admitted. I signed the document before he could respond. -------------------------------------------------- A boy''s soul vanished... An angel stood there, open-mouthed. "F-Frie... Friend..." the angel repeated, stammering in disbelief. A creature, who until now, had been shunned by almost all the inhabitants of heaven. He opened the parchment he held in his hands, stared at it for a moment with a pensive expression and then¡­ took off towards his next task. ------------------------------------- A long time ago, in a sky far away... In that place, only an entity known as ¡®The Great Father'', who sees all and knows all, knew why a certain angel kept crying for happiness... And now it begins A pleasant, safe, silent and reassuring warmth. These were my sensations as if I were at the bottom of an enthralling pool and could breathe slowly, while delicate hands caressed my skin gently. ¡®I am inside the womb of my second mother,¡¯ I thought, enjoying every moment in this different paradise. ¡®Correction: I was.¡¯ I felt something break, and something else beginning to pull me elsewhere. About three hours later, total frost, severe burning in my eyes, and a deafening noise. ¡®Argh! That was my umbilical cord. Whoever you are, I damn you, butcher!¡¯ In my heart, I believe that cutting the cord was mostly a psychological deprivation than a physical one. Like the deprivation of a bond that, who knows the reason, had comforted me. I felt wounded in my soul. ¡®I don''t understand what they''re saying...¡¯, I thought, as someone pressed insistently on my chest. I had no clue where I was, everything was a blur, voices were agitated, and it was hard to focus. I realized I had to end the excruciating agony, so I began to cry and scream with all the energy I had. ¡®Damn it!¡¯ I cursed. ¡®Remember the first rule: [Show your skills, knowledge, and qualities in a gradual and justified manner, or else armies of people will come marching after you based on the hymn Let''s Burn That Monster!]'' POV Varra Tallhart In the Northern Lands, Torrhen''s Square. Year 278, Fourth day of the First Moon¡­ ¡®I did it! He was born healthy and strong!¡¯ thought Varra, happy and exhausted. "You are beautiful my son!" she said later, clutching a dirty, screaming bundle tightly to her. "Master, will my son be all right?" His frown betrayed a certain anguish. Maester Golbarth smiled thoughtfully at her, explaining it was not uncommon for an infant to cry immediately when pulled from its mother''s womb. "I must attend to you now, however. You are bleeding, my Lady." "Master!" Helman Tallhart, Torrhen''s Square Master, burst into his lady''s chambers and rushed to her bedside. "You must save her! You must save her now!¡± "It''s too late," Varra whispered, at the brink of her strength. "We knew this would happen. It was written. Let me be alone with you." "Don''t listen to her," Helman retorted. "Save her! Now!" "Oh, my dear," whispered the woman in a caressing voice. "The gods predicted this. We knew this would happen..." After a few seconds of the couple being left alone in the room with the newborn.... "You can''t leave me!" exclaimed the other, in despair. "He will be the key. The key to a chance for peace between my people and yours. I have seen him in my dreams, Helman. Protect him, help him grow, guide him, and when the time comes, tell him the truth. Swear to me that you will, that you will do all that you can. Swear to me, Helman!" Helman bowed his head to his wife''s chest. "I swear it by the Old and New gods. I swear it on my life and everything I hold dear. May the gods and men damn me for eternity if I should ever fail in my pledge!" "I have thought... of a name..." gasped Varra finally. "That of the knight and his squire prince you were telling me about..." "Duncan." A blissful sigh. "It is a perfect name, my love. Yes, our son will be named Duncan Tallhart." This was how the new lord of Torrhen''s Square was baptized. And with one last smile on her face, Varra handed the child to her husband, who held the firstborn to himself. He kissed his forehead. Then the light left the eyes of Varra Tallhart, daughter of the Free folk and descendant of the ancient King-Over-The-Wall Joramun. POV Duncan Torrhen Square. Year 278 BC, fifth day of the seventh moon. About Six Months Later¡­ "Yes! I can finally more or less understand this sort of philo-Germanic language, whatever it is!" Some of the terms were still unclear, and in itself, it was not at all simple. I mainly heard my "father" speak, sometimes Maester Golbarth. Nanny, on the other hand, sang all the time. Ah, Metatron had thrown me a curveball, there was no doubt about it! I couldn''t even apply my breathing techniques, I had only tried for a minute once and woke up in Maester Golbarth''s room, with Helman slumped in the corner. He had dark circles under his eyes and the despairing expression of someone who couldn''t bear to grieve again, which meant my body still couldn''t handle the physical strain. On a mental level, it was a different story. I was basically caged. A microscopic cage that wouldn''t even allow me to crawl. For the time being. Humiliating, right? Did I mention that Metraton is an asshole? Anyway, today was my debut day. I had been practicing and was ready for the big event. Helman Tallhart arrived to say goodnight to me with the customary kiss on the forehead. When he bent down towards me, in the arms of my wet nurse, Bicka, I moved mine towards him, smiling. My father greeted me, pulling me up. "Good night, my little Ser Duncan," he said, and kissed my forehead. "Houston!", I thought. "Ready to go! Verbalization in three, two, one..." "P... pp... pa-pa! My father stared at me with his mouth open and eyes wide. "Bi... Bicka did you hear that too?" His astonishment even made him stammer. Bicka the woman who served as my cow, cradle and caregiver, approached me with a trembling mouth. "Oh, milord. The gods...this is the work of the gods!" This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Five months later¡­ Year 278 BC, eleventh day of the twelfth moon. Bicka had left the room. My jailer had let his guard down. I caught a glimpse of light through the crack in the door. "This is my chance!", I thought as I slid down from the cradle. I crawled quickly to cover the few steps that separated me from freedom. I pushed the door ajar with my weight. It was the second time this week that I managed to slip out of my nurse''s loving grasp. ¡®I''ll at least reach the stairs today! Come on, Duncan! One foot after the other! Get up and walk, Lazarus! At least seven consecutive steps before you fall! You can do it, soldier!¡¯ I managed to stand up and perform a barely passable stroll. One after another. On the fifth, I fell off balance to my left, but I didn''t give up. It was a rare moment to practice on a straight run and breathe new air. My leg muscles were not yet fully developed, and my center of gravity was off balance. Learning to walk and move independently was the first step to my goals. Exercise was the key. I knew Bicka would be back within minutes. The more distance I could leave behind, the more time I would have to perform my exercises in peace. After my 32nd fall, I heard a voice come from the hallway. "Tom! Tom! The little lord has run away again! Help me look for him!" It was my nurse. Tom would come looking for me. Thirty feet... twenty-five...twenty...fifteen...and game over. Two hands grabbed me and lifted me off the ground. But to my surprise, they were neither Bicka''s nor Tom''s. It was my new father Helman who had accomplished the capture of the fugitive. "You little brat! You already know what you''re in for, don''t you?" "No! No! Good Duncan! Duncan good! Bad Papa!" The punishment began. Bicka arrived and amusedly watched a father continue to blow on the uncovered belly of a poor child innocent of all charges. A minute later the torture ended... lucky for me. "Milord, I am mortified... I..." Bicka was interrupted. "Don''t worry Bicka. I''ll take care of Duncan for the rest of the morning. You go ahead and get some rest." Said Helman quietly taking away the servant''s worries. "Yes, milord. Thank you. If you need me, I will be in my chambers." Bicka left after bowing. "Duncan today will be a special day. We are going together for the first time to the Godswood and we will meet two special people. Do you want to come with Papa!" asked a smiling man. "Yeahh! Godswood!" I raised my arms like I was on a roller coaster and squealed my approval as loud as I could. Outside... Light at last! For the first time in twelve months, I was seeing something other than the stone, my crib, and a few tapestries and rugs decorated with the symbols of the Tallhart House. I promised myself that as soon as I had the chance, I would burn every single piece of poorly crafted fabric that adorned that small room. I was able to see the entire castle of Torrhen''s Square: stone walls nearly a hundred feet high, with square towers at each corner and a fortress, also square within the walls. From up there you could see a landscape that stretched for many miles. The fortress was situated on a small peninsula surrounded by a fairly deep lake. Beyond it stretched snow-covered mountain ranges that foretold the coming of winter. On the opposite side, you could see white valleys accompanied by small meadows of trees. It was breathtaking. Upon reaching the forest, my father introduced me to my aunt and uncle. "Brother, Lady Berena...I present Duncan Tallhart, my son and heir." A man in his late teens and a woman in her early fifties stared at me curiously. Though it was I who felt the most. Something unexpected stood out in front of me. As soon as I entered the park, I felt a refreshing and satisfying feeling inside. The air filled my lungs and I felt myself getting calmer and more relaxed and then I saw them. Two numbers made of glowing green smoke floated above the heads of those two individuals. I turned around and noticed the same peculiarity on Helman''s head. Leobald Tallhart (Helman¡¯s brother): [4]; Berena (Hornwood future wife of Helman): [1] Helman Tallhart: [6] ¡®That number should be the level, but why am I only seeing it now! It never activated before, I thought it was due to age,¡¯ I pondered for a moment. ¡®Godswood! Here''s the answer. I must have made contact with the divine energy that activated my first ability!¡¯ ¡°My nephew has a piercing gaze! I''ve never seen a child who hasn''t even turned one yet stare at someone like that!" my supposed uncle exclaimed laughing. "Do you want to hold him?¡± Helman asked. "Of course, I do! Let me take a look at this supposed genius little demon you''ve been bragging about so much!" ¡®Oh yeah? Who did you call a demon, you redneck!¡¯ I thought irritated. As soon as Leobald took me in his arms and brought his face closer to mine, I cleaved the first open-handed blow toward his forehead. Smack! and I continued repeatedly hitting (as hard as I could) that face that was crying out for slaps "Bad Uncle! Bad Uncle!" *Smack!, Smack!* Two minute slaps had hit the target before Leobald pulled me away to a safe distance. Helman keeled over in laughter, Berena trying with much effort to maintain the composure and dignity of a future Lady wife. My uncle, startled by the blows, stood still and stared at me for a moment before joining in the laughter. "A true knight! Fully prepared to defend his honor and that of his lord! " roared Leobald in a proud tone between laughs. An hour of praise and talk later... It was just me, my uncle, and Helman. Sitting on the moss and fallen red leaves of the carved Tree-Heart in the center of the Godswood. I had curled up between my father''s legs as I pretended to sleep peacefully while keeping my ears wide open. The young bride-to-be had gone to her chambers to prepare for the welcoming banquet. The Master of Torrhen''s Square and his brother took the opportunity to discuss matters that required greater seriousness and attention. "So brother have you decided whether to accept Lord Cerwyn''s marriage proposal?" Leobald asked in a less playful tone. "Lady Myra Cerwyn is seventeen years old. A young woman, beautiful and pure. She is Lord Medger''s only direct cousin and one of the few Cerwyns left in this generation." Helman sighed in a surrendered tone. "I don''t know if I can make it brother, you know I haven''t gotten over Varra''s grief yet," Helman replied. "Brother, winter is coming... The peasants will suffer without the Cerwyn''s grain supply, and as you know the seat of House Hornwood is hundreds of leagues away. Soon the roads will be blocked. We cannot risk being isolated here without allies." my uncle replied immediately afterwards and continued, "Lord Cerwyn has already accepted my proposal to postpone the wedding, but within a year at the very least we must accommodate lady Myra." "I would not insist if we were not in such a precarious situation." Helman took a good minute of careful consideration before answering: "I will send a raven to lord Medger Cerwyn... I will accept the proposal." Said the lord of Torrhen''s Square. ¡®Well well, it looks like I''ll have a stepmother soon,¡¯ I thought, still pretending to be asleep. ¡®I''ll have to give her a warm welcome. After all, ''Winter is Coming¡¯. POV Myra Cerwyn Near the road to Torrhen''s Square. Year 279 AC thirteenth day of the tenth moon. About eleven months after Helman accepted the proposal.... Myra couldn''t stop thinking about the words of her cousin, lord Medger Cerwyn. By now she was almost at Torrhen''s Square to meet her future husband and stepchild... ¡®That child... could I really do that?¡¯ the young bride-to-be thought with concern and disquiet. She remembered her cousin''s words, [Remember, this is a great opportunity for our family. The alliance between our two Houses will make us stronger. With this union, we will be able to root even deeper and firmer roots. Who knows, your children in the future might even become the new lords of Torrhen''s Square. After all, the rumors about the ''bastard son of Wildling'' might be true, or maybe... the boy might even have ''an accident'' in the future.] The word ''accident'' hid several meanings, she knew. Her cousin, the Lord of House Cerwyn, was not an evil person, but over the years several ''accidents'' occurred in Cerwyn lands in various disputes with tax-evading lesser lords or dishonest merchants. Medger had no qualms about doing whatever needed to be done to safeguard his family. The cousin hoped that Myra, too, would in the future have the ''moral elasticity'' to act on behalf of the future of House Cerwyn. ¡®Would I be capable of doing that?¡¯ she wondered for the umpteenth time. ¡®In the future, I might have a son and his half-brother might see him as a threat and so getting rid of him would be...¡¯ she interrupted this forced thought as the carriage had stopped. It had finally arrived at its destination. A Cerwyn soldier opened the door. Myra stepped out of the carriage in her expensive and elegant fur coat lined with the finest wool. Straight light brown hair finely braided down to her chest. The girl, who had recently turned eighteen was a true Nordic beauty. The daylight blinded her for a few moments making it difficult for her to perceive her surroundings at that moment. A few uncertain steps later, Myra caught sight of a small procession of guards forming a path for two individuals in the center: a man about half her age, about six feet tall, with dark brown hair, pleasant looking and well-groomed, and a beautiful child with silvery hair, piercing green eyes and dressed in finely woven clothes. Myra was mesmerized by the child and continued to advance, staring at him involuntarily. "Lady Cerwyn, Torrhen''s Square welcomes you. I am Helman Tallhart and this here is my son Dunc..." An innocent voice interrupted Helman. "Papa! Papa! Who is that beautiful princess? Is she that fairy tale princess you were telling me about last night?" Slight nods of laughter echoed through the castle. "Duncan!!! I beg your pardon, my lady¡­ emm¡­ No, she is the special maiden we spoke of this morning. My future wife and your future stepmother." Said Helman holding back the child. "Really?!!! Papa, you are the luckiest man in the world! She is beautiful!!!" This time even the ceremonial guards in all their composure couldn''t hold back their laughter. Helman blushed embarrassed not knowing what to do. Duncan slipped from his father''s grasp and hurried a few steps closer to lady Cerwyn. "So, you are my new Mama, Lady Princess?!" asked the child with a look that pleaded hope and expectation. Myra Cerwyn collapsed to her knees hugging the baby in tears. ¡®I AM A MONSTER!!! A MONSTER!!! A monster who deserves to rot in the seven hells just for thinking she could hurt a child!!!¡¯ Shrieked the woman inwardly, holding the little gentleman Lord firmly in her arms. At that moment Myra regretted every single bad thought she had ever had for the tender creature she held in her arms. "Yes...yes little one...I''ll be your new Mama!" Myra managed to say with a small smile between sobs. "Why are you crying Mama?! Did someone hurt you? Tell me who it was, I''ll protect you!" said the child pulling out his wooden sword. The little aspiring knight and sworn protector of Myra cleaved three imprecise blows wide open to demonstrate his fighting skills. "I... sigh... Ugh... Aargh!!! Thank you, my baby!¡± Squealed Lady Cerwyn in pain and tears as she tried to hug her new protector. A Dangerously Sharp Mind POV Duncan Torrhen Square. Year 280 A.C.; the eighteenth day of the eighth moon... Practically a year had passed since Lady Myra''s arrival. The Citadel''s white raven, heralding the beginning of winter, arrived three days after her coming. It was difficult to distance myself from the woman who, for all intents and purposes, became my mother. I was taken care of with the utmost love and care. The announcement of a pregnancy also followed. Four months after her arrival, Myra told her new family the sweet news. My father threw a big party, sparing no expense, and everyone in the castle was invited. During the banquet, I showed everyone my abilities as a protective and loving older brother-to-be. I was genuinely happy with the news. I quickly became attached to my new family, and Myra, was part of it. I was apparently too young to show any signs of comprehension, but my performance convinced them just enough. I still had no clear idea of my abilities. According to the contract, I was supposed to be able to gauge the level of any person within thirty feet of me and use a trick among the Druid class spells. Nothing, however, seemed to blossom from my abilities. I was able to catch a glimpse of my father''s level and that of my uncles, by accident near to the Heart Tree, and then nothing more. One day, before nightfall, I managed to sneak outside the walls to try to reach the Godswood. It was not an easy task. Apparently, I was three years old, and I was guarded to the fullest. Winter was in full swing. The ground crackled under the frost, my breath condensed into little clouds outside my mouth, I was fully bundled up I could barely move. The wool, which was so thick as to be heavy, stiffened my joints. By chance, though I was caught by the captain of the Guard watch, Tom, I managed to convince him and have him escort me in his arms. I had pointed out the forest with some persistence and the man had gone soft. He knew how much I enjoyed walking through the woods. I was finally alone inside the Godswood. I couldn''t waste this opportunity that was more unique than rare. Standing in front of the majestic Heart Tree with a sculpted face, I began to breathe slowly and closed my eyes. The strange calming energy began to flow through me. I inhaled and exhaled for minutes on end. Nothing seemed to change when I felt a small, unnatural impulse: I wanted to touch the tree. I was attracted to it, but the closer I reached out my hand, the more my instinct for danger grew. Alas, curiosity kills a man... I touched the tree and a tidal wave of information seemed to sweep over me: design, testing of boats and ships, knowledge of crops and all the trees known to us, plus a myriad of other details. The speed at which it was flowing was worrying, my head was beginning to boil from the overload, and at the limit of pain, I abruptly broke the connection. My temples hurt like hell, and I felt rivulets of blood coming out of my nose and ears. Now it was clear... My mind still couldn''t assimilate all that knowledge! Thinking back I still couldn''t remember all the information I had learned from Seraphinus! I hadn''t noticed it at first because the information left behind was nonetheless gargantuan. "You idiot, you could have blown your head off!", I scolded myself. ¡®I still have a child''s body with undeveloped organs, it''s normal that I can''t remember everything. I guess that''s also why I can''t use magic yet! Damn it, this isn''t a game where you have an indestructible virtual body! You''re made of flesh, bones, and blood!¡¯The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. I cleaned the blood as much as I could with mossy, leaves, and snow. ¡®If my father or Lady Myra saw a single drop, they would lock me in a room with twenty men guarding the door until I came of age,¡¯ I thought terrified. I came out of the little forest; there was Captain Tom waiting for me. I noticed him immediately, clear as day. The number [7] floated above his head. ¡®After all the risk and pain I''ve gained something!¡¯ I thought excitedly. It took me a few days to get used to it. Now I could turn the ability on and off at any time. I analyzed almost every person in the castle and got more or less an idea by asking around and learning about ''life experiences''. In a situation of neutral terrain, equal weapons, and equipment: Level [0] = Zero fighting ability. The person has neither the ability nor the will to defend themselves. Level [1] = Peasant who is brandishing a weapon for the first time and fighting. Level [2] = Peasant who has been trained superficially for a month, with few resources. Level [3] = Soldier with no experience, trained for three months, poor results. Level [4] = Soldier who received training, has decent talent with a type of weapon and has faced danger at least once. Level [5] = A Soldier trained for at least three years, with high means and resources, who has faced danger multiple times. Level [6] = The skill similar to that of a knight-errant serving in small and large conflicts. Level [7] = Knight with years of hard training and fighting behind him, a high level of talent in the use of multiple weapons. Level [8] = Fighter who has lived between life and death several times and shows natural talent in hand-to-hand combat, excellent survival techniques. Level [9] = I have no idea yet and don''t want to find out. Level [10] = I hope to never face him in battle, in fact, I hope to make an ally out of him. Most of the castle''s militia was level [4]. Oddly enough, the blacksmith Will in my dad''s service was level [7]! Take note: never piss off that nice guy Will. ¡®Useful,¡¯ I realized. ¡®All this is highly useful.¡¯ As more time passed, I showed more vigor in my verbal skills and made it clear to my father that I wanted to ''learn to read''. He was reluctant at first, and I didn''t blame him - I wasn''t even four years old! He gave in after an artful pout. I took lessons with maester Golbarth, level [0], and began my fictitious learning. For three whole months, I had to simulate basic errors. Despite my carefulness, Golbarth informed my father of my thirst for learning and reassured him of my promising future. Trickery, harmless childishness and well-timed questions led me to discover more about the Maester at Torrhen''s Square service. Golbarth Hill was his real name; he was the bastard son of a cousin of Tytos Lannister, Tywin''s father. From there I forced myself to be careful, he could very well have confirmed himself as a Lannister spy. When I wanted to validate some of my suspicions, I waited for a window of opportunity to inspect the maester''s office. After all, I was still strong in my ''I''m only a child and I don''t know what I''m doing'' armor. Maester Golbarth came out of his office to give his usual monthly report to my father on the general situation in the Tallhart lands. I already knew where to check. I climbed onto my chair to reach his desk drawer and found it. Golbarth would open and close the drawer several times. As I approached it in his presence, I noticed an abnormal sense of unease and worry plastered on the man''s face. An imperceptible double-bottom that opened by pressing at a lever point. There were two rolls. I quickly opened the unsealed documents and scrutinized two reports. Both reported in detail everything that had happened over the past month in the Tallhart lands. ''The bastard also reported my success in my studies and that I had a ''dangerously'' sharp mind!'', I thought angrily. ¡®Oh, maester, you don''t know how right you are!¡¯ I searched to the end for every possible clue on the two recipients and found them. On one a more detailed and precise report, Golbarth had written the word ''Archmaester''. On the other report despite not mentioning anyone, I sensed less formal and more familiar language. ¡®The citadel and the Lannisters...¡¯ I clenched my small fist tightly. ¡®Golbarth is a bloody triple agent! Lady Barbrey Dustin was right. Most masters are probably filthy gray rats. The Lannisters aren''t a threat yet and I feel pretty confident about the future. Tywin is cunning, wealthy, and ruthless and should not be underestimated, of course, but he is also an intelligent, reasonable, and predictable person. He''s not someone who would seek out unnecessary conflict that he''s not sure he can prevail in. Cersei is literally the malignant tumor of the house and kingdom. A woman who has succeeded in almost every move to weaken the Lannisters. For goodness¡¯s sake, I don''t doubt that blowing up the Temple of Baelor was a good move, but she created this whole mess! She practically put a loaded gun in the High Sparrow''s hand, drew a target on her chest, and screamed: ¡®Shoot, if you dare! A lion can''t be hurt by a bullet!¡¯¡¯ But the Citadel¡­ if my assumptions were correct, would have represented one of the most dangerous. The wise maesters pretended to be weak and helpless without any power in their hands, but this was not the case. They were almost certainly the main cause of the fall of the Targaryens, trying to prevent the return of magic by any means and guarding its secrets; most importantly, they had direct control over untold numbers of people. The Citadel was almost certainly the reason why research and progress would remain in the muck. I put everything back in order and returned to my reading, ''Dance of the Dragons''. It was not yet time to act... "War is won before it is fought." The Seventy-Seventh POV: Author Study of Helman Tallhart, Torrhen''s Square. Year 281 BC, the first day of the fifth moon. (The Great Tournament of Harrenhal is about six months away)¡­ "Luckily according to the citadel''s reports winter will soon be over..." Said the Torrhen Square Master speaking quietly alone in his office as he read the reports. Although it didn''t last long the winter had hit the North badly. Dozens of snowstorms had blocked almost every road, even the King''s road was nearly inaccessible. Every village or hamlet in its territory had been isolated. The Tallhart family had spent a lot of manpower and resources to successfully send aid. Despite their efforts, many convoys of grain and clothing were wiped out by frost, packs of vicious beasts, and bandits. Even with the help of House Cerwyn, the situation continued to be difficult. The last report from the explorers who had managed to return stated that an entire village had been wiped out by a blizzard and another was under siege by a large group of bandits... Helman took the last report of the evening. It was about the current state of the family''s finances... {Stocks: 41,710 gold dragons. Supplies: three years of reserves for the castle; six months of reserves for the peasants; Debts: Tot. 10,550 golden dragons *. Stark House 1,200 golden dragons; Manderly House 850 golden dragons; Tully House 1,000 golden dragons; Tyrell House 7,500 golden dragons} ¡®Damn Tyrells, they tripled the price of grain six months before winter came. They don''t even claim responsibility for the cargo, in case ''the Iron Fleet'' or ''pirates'' should ''plunder'' their ships. They even cut down on transportation costs by simply leaving the cargo at White Harbor!¡¯ Helman clenched his fist in frustration. ¡®I can''t tap the gold reserves any more than that, it would leave our house overly exposed...¡¯ The man sighed. There was a knock on the door. "Yes, Tom?" "The little lord requests an audience, my lord." "Let him in, thank you, Tom." Tom withdrew with a polite nod. A child now almost over three feet tall entered. "Father. I hope I''m not disturbing you." Said Duncan. ¡®The good old days of ''Papa'' are already over... Time is the cruelest of enemies.¡¯ Thought the Lord with a deep nod of sadness that he quickly erased with a warm smile. "Not at all son, you are actually saving this poor man from oblivion." "Maester Golbarth has once again praised your achievements in your studies, he is practically begging me to send you to the citadel, he says you could become the youngest Grand Master in the history of the seven kingdoms. I am proud of you my son." Said Helman with a big smile. ¡®Oh Golbarth, my old friend... You''ve almost reached the Mines of Moria already... Why do you keep digging your own grave?¡¯ Thought Duncan while taking a mental note for the future. "Your mother also tells me that you spend every spare moment helping her with the twins*... Tell me the truth, do you need any more favors? Or is there anything your mother and I can give you besides those mundane ingredients you requested for your name day?¡± Now that little Duncan was a few steps away, Helman noticed that the air was slightly wafted with a pleasant scent and that his son''s skin was strangely cleaner and shinier than ever. "No father. I really don''t need anything...however... I..." Duncan said, keeping his gaze downcast in a hesitant and slightly fearful tone. "What''s the matter, son? Did something happen? You can talk to me you know." Helman straightened up from his chair and stared anxiously at his son. It was the first time he had ever seen Duncan so concerned and all the man''s alarm bells were now shrieking. "Nothing serious happened... I think... ¡®Papa¡¯ I don''t know if I can tell you... I... I don''t think you could understand me... or believe me." Said the boy in a tone that screamed despair, insecurity and resignation. (Yes...he had practiced it quite a bit).Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Helman jolted to his feet, dropping papers, pens, and inks, and rushed toward his son, hugging him in the most reassuring way possible. "Papa''s here Duncan! I will always protect you no matter what happens. But I beg you, for your old man''s sake, don''t keep secrets from me. You will cause me to die of anxiety and worry... Your obstacles will be my obstacles! Your enemies will also be mine! Your father swears to you son! So please tell me what''s going on...can you do that for your Papa?" Said Helman with damp eyes kissing his son''s fragrant forehead. ¡®I''ll almost certainly have to serve at least a year in hell for what I''ve done and what I''m about to do to the poor guy... forgive me if you can Helman.¡¯ Thought Duncan feeling guilty about the ¡®act¡¯. "Yes Papa, sigh sigh... Do you remember when I asked you a few months ago why the people in the castle smelled so bad?" He asked sobbing. "Yes of course... because of the frost... but this..." Helman was more confused than ever. "You told me that not everyone could wash in the winter, both due to the problem of hot water and because bath oils were a luxury the castle could not afford. I... I wanted to look for a solution... and I went to Godswood to pray to the gods... to ask for help... and there I heard it... it was a voice... it came from the tree of the gods..." Duncan paused to build some suspense. "...And then? What did that voice say to you son?" Helman asked, focused and with an accelerated heartbeat. "He told me to touch the tree. I did and the next thing I knew... visions... so many visions Father! I saw older men preparing something and the longer I stood there watching the more I realized! They told me it was called ¡®Soap¡¯...and I knew how to make it... in every way, I knew...and...and I made it...well here it is...here it is." Duncan opened his hand and a bar of soap popped out of his little hand. "The presents I asked for the birthday... well they were the ingredients to make this so-called ¡®Soap¡¯. The voice also said it was a ¡®Gift¡¯... but it also said I had to be careful... that''s why I asked you for the safe room Papa! The voice showed me some ugly, awful scenes... of you... mom... uncles... even... sigh sigh, MY LITTLE BROTHER AND SISTER! Ugh ugh... I realized that if I told the wrong person all those bad things would happen!" Duncan began to cry and sob, partly naturally because he felt like a real soulless piece of shit. "I''m sorry Papa, I let you down! I let you all down! Sigh sigh... I put my family in danger!!! Uuuaaaghh! ghug ghug!" He cried harder, burying his face in the man''s chest. "Shhh, it''s okay Duncan! It''s okay! Papa''s here! You didn''t do anything wrong... shhh" He said trying to be as reassuring as possible. Fifteen minutes of crying, sobbing, reassurance, hugs and cuddles later¡­. "Son now that you''ve calmed down, can you explain more about what this soap does?" Helman asked, satisfied that he had managed to calm his son down and even make him laugh a little. Duncan, riding the wave, explained to his father all the practical and functional aspects that the Ancient Gods had explained to the boy. He also explained to him all the three types of soap he had created: one for the common people, one for more affluent people and one for the nobility. He demonstrated the effects on Helman himself who was shocked for a moment. He now understood why his son''s skin was so clean and soft! Duncan had even prepared a sheet with quantities of ingredients, the labor processes and costs. The cheapest soap could be produced by spending about only two pennies for a piece. The second type, of higher quality, a copper star and three pennies. The third type, of the highest quality, for a silver moon and four silver stags. They could have easily sold the three products for five pennies (common), a stag (superior) and a moon (supreme) a piece...it was a gold mine! And now the Tallhart family had a clear path to a monopoly on production! Helman tried with all his might to keep his composure and not to think about the possibilities and solutions of this great opportunity. Duncan subtly and covertly told his father that it was also because of an article in a book by a certain maester Qyburn that he had managed to streamline the process (which was half true). When the excitement and enthusiasm dropped, Duncan was ready for "the Final Act." By now he could have played poor Helman like a fiddle. "Father, I have to tell you one last thing... There is a reason I acted, carelessly¡­ I believe the Old Gods gave me a ''second gift''... to protect me." Said Duncan again in a somber tone. "What is it?" The man asked quietly but seriously. "I could and still can feel it. I don''t know how to explain it...but I can tell who I feel I can trust and who I cannot." Duncan. "When I''m around you, Uncle, and Mom I feel it... I feel a warm, comforting, pleasant feeling... I feel it in others too but not as strong as yours. But I don''t know how to say it..." he interrupted as if he didn''t want to continue. Helman immediately guessed the message. "Who son?! Who didn''t give you that feeling?" "Well, I don''t think it''s that reliable, Papa... I mean, it was just a feeling..." Said a hesitant and frightened child. Lord Tallhart gently took his son''s hands to reassure him. "Don''t worry you can talk to me about it you know, even the Gods are telling you!" Said Helman as he fell with both feet into the pit. Captain, the men are ready! what are the orders?... Fire at will!, voices sang in the child''s head signaling to him that it was time to eat the first pawn. "Maester Golbarth... yes that''s him... he gives off an aura that scares me, father. If I get close to him, I feel shivers all over my body, I don''t know how to explain it... but I feel that I can''t trust him... But he''s never done anything to me, I swear! He has always helped me whenever I''ve asked him for help! He has always been kind! I really don''t know why he makes me shiver... even though..." the boy paused for a moment to think. "Even though?!... Please continue, son." Helman continued to maintain a slight calm smile, but his eyes were icy: they were the eyes of a man ready to kill at any moment. "Well yes, a strange thing happened. About almost a year ago the maester was more relaxed and calmer when we were having lessons, but one night I think he said something he shouldn''t have said... I don''t know why; he had only told me that he was born in the Westlands and that he was the birth son of a Lannister... I can''t remember the name... Ah yes, I remember he was Tytos Lannister''s cousin. I still don''t see anything wrong with that. Since that day, however, the Maester has treated me a little more coldly and carefully. He has never told me anything more about his past...but that is all I swear!" Explained Duncan quickly. Helman stood still for a few seconds, contemplating the boy''s words. The smile was gone, his left-hand trembling slightly. "Duncan son, thank you for being honest with me. Damn! ... It''s getting very late, your mother will scold us both if you don''t go to sleep right away!" Replied Helman quickly. "Yes, Papa, thank you for listening to me. I love you!" Said Duncan with a smile. "Me too, son! Me too¡­ Now go, it''s late." The Lord gave his son a small hug, trying with all his might to stay calm. The boy quickly walked out of his father''s office. *[Author''s note: 1 golden dragon = 30 silver moons 1 silver moon = 7 silver stags 1 silver stag = 7 copper stars 1 copper star = 8 copper pennies 1 copper penny = purchasing power value about $0.75 1 golden dragons = 11,760 pennies= approximately $8,840 of purchasing power.] *[Author''s note: Born about 7 months earlier, a little boy ¡®Benfred¡¯ and a girl ¡®Eddara¡¯] End POV -------------------- POV A Child of the North On a late winter moonlit evening in the Northlands of Westeros, a child walked slowly down a castle hallway. A loud roar of anger was heard echoing throughout the keep. The child stopped, turned his gaze to look over his shoulder for a moment, and resumed walking toward his rooms. A small childish voice echoed in that hallway... "Let the Seventy-Seventh Hunger Games begin." Debts to Incur & to Repay POV Helman Tallhart Lord''s study, Torrhen''s Square. Year 281 AC, the ninth day of the fifth moon. Eight days after Duncan''s visit. Captain Tom stood there in silence in the Lord''s room. He had his most faithful and capable men repeatedly check to see if there was even the slightest chance that a spy could have been eavesdropping on the voices in the room. As far as he knew there was none. Helman Tallhart was reading some papers for future work waiting for his brother Leobald''s daily report. There was a knock on the door. "Your brother, my lord," said one of Tom''s two appointed guards dutifully. Leobald entered without complying with the formalities and closed the door again. "It is confirmed brother, Golbarth is a Lannister spy." He showed a scroll in his hand, stained with a few drops of blood as proof. Helman read the scroll scrutinizing every detail. Finally, he clenched his fist crumpling the report. ¡®Duncan is truly blessed by the Ancients¡¯ thought a concerned father. Helman trusted his son, with all his heart, he would have already torn Golbarth apart the morning after his visit if his brother and Tom hadn''t calmed him down and talked some sense into him. He still had to be sure before he condemned the man who had served his family for over ten years. "That boy Henry hit the bird with a shot from almost two hundred feet away, never seen anything like it... I had a small bag of silver coins ready to reward him, but in the end, I decided to put two gold dragons in his hand. Congratulations on your choice, Tom." Said Leobald still slightly in disbelief. "That boy is shit in the mix, but give him a bow, five arrows and five married men armed with swords and there will be five more widows in the world. "* Replied the captain with a small grin of satisfaction. Helman nodded in approval. "I want your honest advice on the proper course of action. Tom?" asked Helman. "My lord, I believe that before we make a move against Golbarth, we should wait for winter to pass. He is currently the only one in the castle with true Healing abilities. I also recommend postponing the production of this ''Soap'' until early spring. We are already selecting men and women of unquestionable loyalty. Preparing a suitable location that meets your requirements will take more time." Said Tom with sincerity. The Master of Torrhen¡¯s Square nodded at his right-hand man and turned his gaze to his brother. "As much as I want to strangle Golbarth with his own entrails, Tom is right. Sure, we could also threaten him, keep him in check, and send false information, but the point is, if we need him and should he feel his back is against the wall, he might make a bold move. A man who has nothing to lose, especially one who holds another person''s life in his hands, is a dangerous man." Said Leobald reluctantly and went on to say: "Not to mention the fact that I don''t want my nephew to be traumatized forever. If the maester disappeared now because of an ''accident,'' the boy in the near future would realize it was his fault and as a result, it would be a major blow to his growth." Helman nodded with slight reluctance but continued to listen carefully to all the suggestions. "On the second point I am on the same page: it is better to take time and also secure a good supplier with steel contracts in the meantime. We must enter into a commercial contract with the suppliers before they know of our success." Leobald concluded. Helman greatly appreciated his brother''s advice. Leobald had always been more talented at negotiation, logistics, and history than swordsmanship. The Master of Torrhen¡¯s Square stood pondering for a couple of minutes with his eyes fixed on the crumpled document and the three prototypes of Soap, then he looked up again. "So brother, what are your orders?" asked Leobald curiously. "We will wait a few months before taking action against Golbarth, but we will not stand still." Replied the brother. "Tom, I need your son Ronan, I want him to attend classes with Duncan from now on and keep an eye on the maester. If I''m not mistaken he is more attracted to books than swords right?" The lord asked already knowing the answer. "Yes my lord, lucky for me. I already have two sons who can''t wait to die in a glorious battle..." Tom replied with a small, surrendered sigh. "And how many men-at-arms do we have whose loyalty is ironclad?" "Forty for whom I would vouch with my life. Two hundred more who would not run from a battle without an order to retreat." Replied the captain thinking a moment. "The best six of the first group will henceforth see to it that Duncan is undisturbed in his experiments and future visits to Godswood. I want Chief Steward Paul to go to Oldtown and seek out a certain maester Qyburn and personally invite him here as our esteemed guest. Give Paul the gold needed to sugarcoat the request and the men needed for the escort." Said Helman, thinking of the new birthday gift his son had requested. His father had insisted after learning that he had sacrificed his last gift for the good and prosperity of the house.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Leobald, you will go to Braavos to find suppliers and deal with the Iron Bank. Our grandfather had opened an account there, there should be more or less 5,000 golden dragons, use them and apply for a loan for everything we will need. I will delegate full authority to you for negotiations. Also, use their services as collateral for the trade contracts you will make." Said Helman without hesitation. "Yes, my lord" Leobald replied, abandoning his youthful cockiness. This was the most important assignment his brother had ever given him, and he did not want to disappoint him. "Tom, I want you to go with my brother. You will have a different assignment. I want you to hire the best weapons master you can find to take care of Duncan''s training. No matter how much time or gold it takes. Have Leobald help you with the money. Take as many men as you need for you both to return safely." "It will be done, my lord." They answered in unison, the two men to whom Helman would entrust his life. *[Author''s Note: In case any of you are wondering, "If he''s so good, why doesn''t the archer go to some tournament and win an archery contest, win millions and live out the rest of his life in booze and whores instead of serving a lord for pennies?" It''s not that easy, for three reasons: 1¡ã Usually tournaments are only for knights and nobles except in some rare exceptions (e.g. King Anguy''s First Knight Tournament, where the archer won 10,000 Golden Dragons). 2¡ã The cunning lords would not allow a peasant in their service, with such a high talent, to win a large sum and escape from their hands. 3¡ã Peasants without a nobleman or armed men to protect them are practically condemned to death when they merrily prance here and there with a bag full of gold on their shoulders. In this world, if an ordinary person accidentally drops a gold coin from his pocket and picks it up, he will find his throat slit at night...imagine a bag full of gold. In 99.99% of cases at least one lord in the audience will send his men disguised as bandits to hunt him down]. End POV ------------- POV Duncan Godswood, Torrhen¡¯s Square. Year 281 AC, nineteenth day of the tenth moon. About five months after Tom and Leobald''s departure... "Seraphine, in te influat fidei vis. Gratias agimus tibi propter divina officia tua, fili et magni patris servi! Seraphine, in te influat fidei vis. Gratias agimus tibi propter divina officia tua, fili et magni patris servi... I think that''s enough for today, phew I''ll only have to do this for another four hundred and twelve times* and the debt to Seraphinus will be paid." I got up from the ground and looked at the snow that had almost completely melted. Winter had now been over for more than a month. The days became warmer and the roads were once again safe. My father had responded to Lord Whent''s invitation to the tournament in Harrenhal, apologizing for his and Leobald''s inability to attend. I was almost tempted to ask my father if I could attend. I would have been able to see for myself, Rhaegar and Aerys Targaryen, Barristan Selmy, Arthur Dayne and all the greatest knights and lords of Westeros! Having calmed my emotions and excitement, I finally began to think rationally. I couldn''t risk changing even a flap of my wings in that event. The butterfly effect scared me considerably. "Who knows, maybe by being in the spectator stands, Rheagar could have been distracted by my unusual appearance and been thrown off by ser Barristan at the last fight..." I thought it was a bit of forced and improbable reasoning, but it was still possible. I looked at the temple''s heart tree one more time before leaving. I was becoming more and more resistant to the pain I felt from touching it. I had gradually acquired a lot of knowledge but there was still a long way to go before I could recover all that was due. I still hadn''t acquired the knowledge of the lost art of Damascus Steel. Not that I was in a hurry - it was certainly the most dangerous knowledge I possessed. Steel that would put the other lords'' metal to shame. It was second only to the steel of Valyria. Why was it the most dangerous knowledge? Early men were able to conquer most of Westeros because they had bronze weapons compared to the obsidian weapons of the Children of the Forest. The Andals invaded the Early Men and conquered five of the Seven Kingdoms because they had steel... The big news of the last period was that I could finally use the magic trick of the Druid class! When I touched the tree about three weeks ago, I felt that I could assimilate a spell and what I wanted was there! I had no doubt about the choice: "Druidcraft"*. Unfortunately, I could only try it at Godswood for the time being... I walked out of the temple and met my Uncle Leobald waiting outside. "Uncle Leobald has been back from Braavos for over a month but Tom hasn''t..." I was a little worried. "Greetings Uncle, today will you finally tell me what happened to poor Tom? And if above all I''ll ever see him again?" I asked a little angrily. "Don''t even try, nephew, your father has been clear on the subject. Tom is on a mission on a family business, and no one can know where. Don''t worry: he knows how to take care of himself." Replied Leobald playfully. "Don''t give me that angry bear pout I''m not lady Myra. I will not give in to your ''cuteness'' haha!" He said, pinching my cheek. "But I do have a little present for you, I think you''ll like it. Only if you pay your debt..." he waited for an answer. I looked at my Uncle for a minute staring into his eyes and trying to win the staring contest. Finally, I gave up. I approached the center of the open square attracting the attention of the guards and servants nearby, I took a deep breath and loudly proclaimed: "LEOBALD TALLHART is the most BEAUTIFUL, STRONG, KIND, COURAGEOUS AND INTELLIGENT uncle a nephew could ever wish for!!!" My uncle bent over in laughter enjoying the moment. Half the castle looked in this direction, many whispered and some laughed. Last month my uncle, who had just returned from Braavos, brought me a gift, a game called Cyvasse. He explained the rules and pretended it was his first time too. We started with a small bet of a penny. I kept winning game after game, Leobald was frustrated by the constant defeats, each time doubling the amount. Until he brought up this stupid bet... and it wasn''t until I lost miserably that I realized he had me in the bag from the start. "Ah ha ha!!! enough, I can''t take it anymore my tummy hurts!" Uncle took a couple of breaths. "Alright that''s it, the debt has been repaid, come on nephew." Leobald turned around and I followed him. He led me into the solarium of the castle and there I saw two men talking: one was Paul, the chief attendant and the other a thin old man in his fifties wearing a black robe and a large chain, made of dozens of different rings. "Nephew, I present to you maester Qyburn from the citadel!" Uncle said loudly, announcing our arrival. ¡®Oh! Now that''s a fine gift! We can finally get a certain Lannister to pay back his debts.¡¯ *[Author''s Note: When Matthew (Duncan) had asked Seraphinus for his employment contract for a modification he had crossed out the number "1" by a prayer for each hour of service and replaced it with a "4". He was originally supposed to pay only one hundred and forty-four prayers, but had chosen to pay Seraphinus one prayer for each time he fell in battle fighting for him i.e. five hundred and seventy-six (4 x 144= 576)]. *[Author''s Note: By whispering to the spirits of nature, the caster creates one of the following effects within range. - The caster creates a tiny, harmless sensor that predicts the weather at his location for the next twenty-four hours. The sensor might manifest as a golden orb in the case of clear skies, a cloud in the case of rain, a cluster of snowflakes in the case of snow, and so on. The effect lasts for one round. - The caster causes a flower to instantly bloom, open a pod, or unfold a bud. - The caster creates an instant, harmless sensory effect such as a pile of flying leaves, a gust of wind, the sound of a small animal, or the vague smell of a skunk. The effect must be no larger than a cube with a 3-foot edge. - The caster instantly lights or extinguishes a candle, flashlight, or small campfire. A trick can be cast indefinitely under optimal conditions]. The First True Knight %&$#*?!/#*... POV Qyburn Torrhen¡¯s Square Five seconds after Leobald''s announcement... Maester Qyburn stared at the goal of his long journey to the North, the one he had been handsomely paid for... A child barely four years old, pale skin typical of the Norsemen, well-groomed steel-white hair, peculiar light green eyes that changed to silver streaks, a normal height of just over three feet, and a gait in stride worthy of a nobleman. This was the first information Qyburn was able to glean in these brief moments. "Torrhen''s Square welcomes you, Honorable Maester Qyburn. I thank you for coming all the way out here to the far North just to satisfy the whims of a curious child. I hope to have the opportunity to show you the hospitality befitting Torrhen¡¯s Square and well-deserving of a scholar of your repute." Said the child, in a polite and formal tone (as much as a child''s voice could), taking a small bow. Leobald Tallhart seemed proud of the outstanding etiquette performance displayed by his nephew. Qyburn noted that the man waited for a moment for a nod of approval from the child before proceeding to take his leave. "Well, gentlemen, we will leave you to your discussions which are too tedious and complex for our humble minds," said Leobald playfully, motioning to Paul and the guards to follow him. "No trouble at all, young lord, it is always a pleasure to satisfy the curiosity of capable young minds. I thank you for your hospitality and the undeserved accolades you bestow upon me. I am but a humble man of knowledge in the service of the citadel." Said Qyburn belatedly on account of both Leobald and the shocking display of a child barely four years old. "If you don''t mind taking a few steps maester, there is a room on the attic of the castle ready for us. If you will follow me." Said Duncan showing the stairs. "No worries whatsoever, young lord. The citadel is carved by thousands of steps and I personally find it a pleasant exercise to keep my body healthy and my mind clear." Qyburn replied kindly, giving a small amused grin. "Well said, maester Qyburn. ¡®Healthy mind, in a healthy body.¡¯ Haha." The child replied, smiling. A few minutes later... "I hope the view is pleasant, maester." "Splendid, my lord, the building is not as tall as the Great Tower of Oldtown, but the naturalistic scenery is unparalleled," Qyburn replied sincerely. "I found your book ¡®History of the Diseases of Man. From Valyria to Today.¡¯ amazingly forward-thinking and detailed. You have a unique style and mind, maester. It is especially your ¡®why''s¡¯ that are so frequent in the text. A unique trait that spurs the reader to think and stimulates curiosity. You could be nicknamed ¡®The Maester of a Thousand Whys''." Praised Duncan with sincerity. "I am amazed and honored that you were able to read, and more importantly, understand my book so thoroughly, young lord." Replied the visibly surprised and pleased maester. "I had a chance to greet maester Golbarth before your meeting. He did nothing but gleefully praise your great accomplishments in your studies. I note with pleasure that the rumors of your fame are true and well deserved." Continued the Maester, wishing to return the kindness shown by the little genius. "Yes, maester Golbarth... I wonder how long you have been passing information about my House at the Citadel..." the child replied quietly. Qyburn froze for a brief moment but recovered quickly. "... My lord, I do not know what you..." he was interrupted. "Please, maester. I believe I have already sufficiently demonstrated my abilities to you. I ask, if it is all right with you, that we both speak frankly and sincerely, so as to save time in unnecessary puns. After all, time is our most precious resource." Although the tension was sky high Duncan''s tone remained calm and reassuring. Qyburn stared hesitantly into the child''s piercing eyes in silence for nearly a minute. "I suppose that is the case, young lord." Qyburn said slightly resigned. "Please maester, just call me Duncan if that''s okay with you. I don''t hold any titles yet, officially." "As you wish Duncan, you too can dispense with the title ''Maester'' to address me. If you don''t mind me asking Duncan... Am I really here to ''replace'' the current maester Golbarth?" Qyburn asked, in a manner more curious than frightened. "Only if you wish, maester. Golbarth will repay what is owed to my family in due time... The real reason why I have arranged for this meeting to happen is to present a ¡®vision¡¯ to you. My vision of the world to be precise." But first¡­ a little demonstration, for your eyes only." The child quickly moved his hand, barely whispering verses. All three candles on the candelabra on the table lit. The man sitting across from them drew his head closer in shock and curiosity. "A little trick, nothing more, but yes, it is magic maester Qyburn. An art known and developed in ancient times and now sadly lost or forgotten." Explained the child showing an annoyed frown. "You and I know ''who'', in the Seven Kingdoms and to an extent even in Essos, is making sure that such an art remains lost and sealed forever... If it were out of simple fear of the unknown I might still accept it but that is not the case. Am I right, maester?" Qyburn, activating every brain cell in his possession, nodded his head in agreement. "The citadel, Starry Sept, even Hightower House, which supports and protects it, are in my opinion the true invisible evil of this world." "The Archmaesters declare to the world that all maesters are the ¡®Knights of the Mind¡¯ but in reality, they are nothing more than a bunch of "hypocritical marauders". Human waste who want a slice of power and a privileged place in this world, who instead of developing, enhancing, and spreading the knowledge gained by the entire world, block progress and civilization in the lands known to this day." Duncan stood up, heading for the penthouse balcony, Qyburn following him.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. The boy climbed up on a special platform attached to the lacework of the walls and stared at the view in silence for a while. "What do you really want from me, Duncan Tallhart? You don''t need me to confirm your theories from what I can see." Qyburn had abandoned the jovial, simplistic tone. He now addressed the boy as his equal. "Before I answer you, I''m going to tell you something that very few people know... I possess abilities, Qyburn, abilities granted by gods, if we can call them that. I see possible futures and have learned knowledge lost or unknown to this world... I have also seen you, Qyburn, your studies, your experiments and a possible future that I will not tell you about today. You are what many would consider being evil, but in my eyes, you are a much-needed evil to heal this world. A valuable and capable traveling companion on a dark path full of danger. Could you please look to the horizon and tell me what you see?" The child prodigy asked with a friendly smile. Qyburn stared at Duncan with a deep, meditative expression, then complied with his request. "A majestic blue lake, mountain ranges, forests, plains and valleys." Exposed Qyburn with a critical eye, studying the horizon. "I, on the other hand, see endless possibilities. Where you see a lake, I see a great trading port with fleets of ships to trade and protect the shores. Where you see mountain ranges, I see unexplored mines of precious and new minerals. Where you see plains and valleys, I see cities, great cities full of people, fed, well educated, cheerful and hardworking. Instruments that can light the streets at night, clean and safe streets, tall and mighty buildings, an average mother safely walking her daughter to a school... A better future Qyburn, a future where people who seek conflict will only find it with others with the same intent, without involving innocent people, who only seek peace and harmony." Explained the child in a melodious and hopeful voice. "... I don''t mean to offend you, but what you see is a utopia in my eyes. Even if you had the means to achieve it, you would still have to go to war with the entire world to make it a reality." replied Qyburn coldly and objectively. "You''re right. I would have to face quite a few enemies. But the possibility of achieving this ''utopia'' is out there, Qyburn, I have seen it. Any child, who sees a majestic building for the first time, will think that beings more powerful and magical than ordinary people built it having no idea how to build it. Yet, it was man who created it, one stone after another. Look at the great empires of the past and what they forged." Qyburn remained silent. He wanted the visionary child in front of him to conclude his reasons first before counter-arguing. "What I really want from you, Qyburn, is for you to swear allegiance to me. Absolute and unconditional loyalty to me... You are a monster, maester Qyburn. And I want you to become ¡®My Monster¡¯... The monster that this ¡®unattainable¡¯ vision needs to have a chance of being achieved. Help me fight the real evils of this world and make it better. I can''t promise you that we will succeed, but I can promise you that history will never forget our actions. History will remember the men who fought to the end, using every means and resource possible and dying in an effort to make the world better." Qyburn remained silent, staring intently into the face of the visionary in front of him. His experience and knowledge of human anatomy and nature told him that this child was not lying... Then the boy continued. "Take the time you need to decide. Even if you decide to decline, know that you will have a safe ride to the Citadel, I swear it on my dream and ideal, but be aware that the moment you step foot in the safety of your home, I will consider you my enemy." Concluded Duncan, in a calm and relaxed manner. Qyburn looked at the child and nodded with a slight smile and an understanding look. ------------------- Three days later¡­. Qyburn was standing on a plain, watching a small village near Torrhen''s Square in the distance. He had spent the first day after the meeting in pleasant and fruitful discussions with young Duncan. He had explained to him his theory about the different ¡®antigens¡¯ in the blood and the micro-beings called ¡®bacteria¡¯ and ¡®germs¡¯. He found the topic bold and brilliant, well worth investing years of study in their research. Qyburn spent the last two days on a small meditative outing. He had an attendant boy with him for his needs and four guards for security. He thought back to a story he didn''t want to remember. The story of a boy who lived in a small village like this one. One day, the boy fell ill and was fortunately helped by a passing maester. With several treatments, ointments and herbs, he managed to cure his symptoms and heal him. The maester still did not know what kind of disease it was. A month later an epidemic struck the village and the region of the little Lord who protected it. The epidemic started with the boy himself. No one except him, who was now immune to the disease, managed to survive. Not even his family... The village and its surroundings were set on fire to prevent the disease from spreading. Years later the boy went to the citadel to follow his dream of becoming a healer just like the maester who saved him. He dedicated himself to learning as much as he could and achieved excellent success. He forged several rings in a very short time. Many apprentice healers practiced on hopeless cases in order to toughen their minds in failure and lower their level of empathy with patients. For the boy, empathy never waned. Although he had seen dozens of patients die, he approached cases with the utmost care by doing everything he could. He wanted with all his might to acquire the knowledge and expertise necessary to prevent an event similar to the fate of his village from happening to others. However, that moment also came for him years later... He discovered while filing various documents, an order written by the High Council of Maesters, reporting the order of a certain maester to stop his attempts to cure a disease afflicting a village. The High Council wanted this new disease to spread in a circumscribed manner, in order to study its nature. When the boy confirmed that, not only was it his village, but also that all research done was sealed, to prevent its spread and turn it into a secret weapon for the Citadel, it was at that moment that his empathy collapsed. It wasn''t his empathy for the patients no... but for the world itself. The village boy died that day. ¡®Why can'' I stop second-guessing myself and keep staring at this village?¡¯ Thought the maester. Shortly thereafter, a small secretion unfamiliar to him oozed from his right eye. He picked up a drop composed of a clear liquid, scrutinized it and analyzed it at length. He had perfect control over his emotions and knew that by now ¡®that boy¡¯ was dead and buried. However, he analyzed his mood and perceived emotions such as mild anger, confusion, fear, excitement and something that could be called ¡®courage¡¯. ¡®The time has come to give an answer.¡¯ Qyburn returned to the castle that same evening. End POV POV: Author Godswood, Torrhen Square. That same evening... "So Qyburn, have you made a decision?" asked Duncan staring at the maester. "Death... betrayal, indiscriminate violence, corruption, innocents suffering, loss of loved ones, hatred, stupidity, barbarism, flames and destruction. The chaos resulting from a war inevitably leads to these and other terrible fates... and you will face the greatest of them all." Qyburn''s gaze and tone were icy. "Do you really think you will be able to shoulder this tremendous burden in the future, Duncan of House Tallhart?" Duncan smiled at the maester''s question. "No, maester... the question is ¡®will we be able to shoulder this tremendous burden?¡¯" Qyburn looked at the boy again, not finding the slightest hint of doubt or hesitation in his eyes, voice or body language... A thin smile formed between the maester''s lips. The man approached the boy and bent one knee to the ground. He took, with both hands, a heavy, jingling object from around his neck. A symbol of pride and prestige for every maester in Westeros and placed it at the child''s feet. "I, Qyburn, son of Barren and Celia, born and raised in the village of Rose Peak, swear to you, Duncan of House Tallhart, here, now, and forever, my undying loyalty. I will fight by your side in this war until the end, for better or for worse. I swear it by everything I believe in." Duncan slowly picked up Qyburn''s chain. He detached a small sprig of dam tree and chanted a short incantation. The twig wrapped itself around forming a wooden outline on a ring of Valyria steel. He gently placed the chain around the man''s neck and said: "Arise Ser Qyburn, the First True Knight of the Mind of Westeros."