Game of Thrones: King of Magic (Game of Thrones / Fate/Grand Order)

[mirzael]

Jon Snow. Wolfwood.

A cold wind blew around the surroundings of the Wolfswood, and the particles of ice and snow present settled on the equally cold ground. The sun had long since left the firmament, replaced by a full moon creating at least some light, and the howling of wolves and the cawing of crows swept through the forest now and then. A commonplace sight in the lands of the North.

But... it was cold. I was cold. The fur cloak, which was too big for a fourteen-year-old boy like me, barely kept me warm. I tried to retain every bit of warmth I had by wrapping myself heavily in it. I had managed to find a small cave to shelter in from the wind and snow, and the distance to Winterfell was about two kilometers, and it was very dangerous to try to walk there at night. And, if I fell asleep, I would freeze to death, or maybe become lunch for the wolves or bears that lived in the forest. Or maybe the murderers and traitors of the North will find me sleeping. And I don't even want to think what they will do to me. And starting a fire and drawing their attention to me is a bad decision. I won't be able to defend myself.

Why am I in this situation?! How did I get lost?! Where did it all go wrong?! And why did it happen just when I finally had the chance to prove myself.

Lady Stark informs me that Father would like to see the bravery that characterizes his house. Namely, a short escorted walk into the Wolfwood. At that moment, a sense of joy and impatience stirred in my heart. And, of course, I happily agreed.

The group of the two escorts and I set off deep into the forest, and as I thought at the time, without much incident. But at some point, the two disappeared, and I was left alone. Hungry and freezing. Away from home and family. In some cave.

As my fatigue began to take over, two silhouettes appeared at the entrance to the cave I was hiding in. I finally had hope, and I used all my remaining strength to shout out just one word. Or rather, I tried.

- "Help," instead of a scream, it came out of my throat, a hoarse, weak mumble that sounded more like a whisper. But it managed to reach their ears. When they came closer, I could see them. They were two men. Overgrown hair, fur garments covered in snow and sewn together without any uniforms or insignia. My hopes crumbled as quickly as they had appeared when I was able to get a glimpse of them. Wildlings. Here. In the Wolfwood.

- "Look who we found. By the look of his pretty face, he's a noble. Are you going to sew him up, or shall I?" said one of them.

- "I'll do it. I haven't seen one of these in a while. What do you think his cries of pain sound like?" said the other one.

- "We'll find out."

After discussing their plans, they began to move toward me and grinned predatorily. My body had already fallen to the ground and was not listening to me. All I could do was just watch and wait for my fate.

Am I going to die here? Just like that?

...

I can't accept it! My story isn't over yet! I choose my own fate and refuse to die here!

After these thoughts, a second breath opened in me. Somehow, I got to my feet and, looking at the two wildlings while pulling out my dagger, I shouted:

- "Come on, you bastards! I'm not going to die here without proving my worth to myself and the world!"

- "Good words, child," I suddenly heard a man's voice from the cave entrance.

All three pairs of eyes turned toward the source of the voice. There, in the passage, under the howling of the winds and in the faint light of the moon, was a silhouette covered in darkness. Only two eyes the color of pure gold shone brightly in the poorly lit cave and were directed at us. Or rather, at me. I could feel it.

- "Who are you?!" The wildlings shrieked, pointing their weapons at the silhouette, "This is our prey!"

In response to their words, one of them burst into flames, and in a second his body was completely reduced to ash. He didn't scream in pain. He didn't wriggle as his body burned. He just didn't have the time to do so. In just a second, his body disappeared in the fire. Not even a bone left.
The second wildling saw this and began to tremble. My nose could even catch a whiff of urine from his side. His hand holding the weapon was shaking uncontrollably, as was his voice.

- "W-who... are… you?"

- "Does it matter?" replied the silhouette. And, a second later, the body of the second wildling flashed and disappeared just like the first.

As soon as it was just me and him in the cave, his gaze settled on me, and his silhouette began to move slowly toward me. And, as soon as I caught his gaze on me, I felt not fear that I would be next, but awe. Even, awe. And the moment the silhouette covered in darkness dissipated, I was able to make him out.

The man's skin was a swarthy color usually reserved for the inhabitants of Dorne. His long snow-white hair fluttered in the remnants of the breeze blowing through the cave, and a small braid hung down the left side of his chest. A black and scarlet colored cloak, secured by ties to his shoulders, moved in time with his hair. His black and white shirt had inserts embroidered in gold. On his tattooed hands and fingers with black painted nails, gold rings shone. In one hand he held a golden staff with an upside-down lamp-shaped tip. His skirt of the same color as his shirt, more like a dress, was secured by a braided scarlet sash, and his tail hung down the front.

And the most unusual thing about his appearance was that he had bare feet that also had rings on them. He was barefoot. In the North. It was as if he didn't care about the cold at all.

This man looked so different. So... magical.

And this man's aura was like my father's when he did his duty as ruler of the North, but more powerful. More significant. It was as if the King himself stood before me. His gaze the color of pure gold created some kind of feeling. My mind, trying to describe that feeling, could only produce one word: "Wisdom".

Yes, "Wise King" is a fitting title for this man.

- "You have done well, child," the man said relaxedly, "And now you can rest. Your father would be proud of you."

After those words, I felt as if I had been lifted from my shoulders. I fell to the ground, dropping the dagger, and tears of relief flowed from my eyes. My strength began to drain from my body like the burning remnants of a candle. And using whatever was left in my childish body, I whispered: "Thank you," and I blacked out.

And the last thing I saw before that was the man's kind smile. The one that warmed my heart, the one that only my father could give me.

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
My P.a.t.r.e.o.n: P.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m/mirzael
You'll be able to read more chapters there.

 

[KenKara]

The Great Wall of Paragraph
I advice giving spacing between the paragraph
It make it hard(Uncomfortable) to read...
But nice idea tho ill watch

 

[Warriorking22]

I advise you to add spacing it so it wont be hard to read, might even suggest to redo the chapter (redo by adding spacing, not changing the writing or anything).

Other than that, I like the idea and I look forward more more chapters

 

[ATP]

The Great Wall of Paragraph
I advice giving spacing between the paragraph
It make it hard(Uncomfortable) to read...
But nice idea tho ill watch

Click to shrink...

Agree.He should Add spacing and continue.Althought...Jon should get Arturia !

 

[Zavvier]

Isn't this that super obvious AI generated story from AO3?

 

[mirzael]

Solomon. Wolfwood.

A small snowstorm had begun outside, and the faint sounds of its howling softly penetrated the cave. The crackling of the fire spread softly throughout it, and its flames gave light and warmth to its inhabitants.

I sat on a small rock and gazed at the dancing flames in deep thought.

When my eyes first saw a new world completely unfamiliar to me, my mind was filled with surprise and incomprehension. And a couple seconds later, memories that were not mine began to pour into my mind. The overwhelming amount of information gave me a massive headache that made me fall to my knees and grab my head.

It reminded me of watching a movie. I felt like I was being thrown from one scene to the next, and I was a front row viewer in a movie theater. I saw an ancient city that I had only read descriptions of in history books. I saw creatures that existed only in myths and legends, as well as a variety of flesh-and-blood heroes from the same place. I've seen magic that was only done on the television screen. And finally, I've seen battles on which the fate of an entire world depended. Scale so large that my eyes simply refused to look away from them.

When the visions were over and my mind cleared, I realized something important. I am no longer me. Not anymore. My very being had merged with the being of another. Solomon. And his reincarnation as Romani Archaman. Now, the present me is an amalgamation of the wise king of Israel, Solomon, the chief of the medical department of the Chaldea's Security Organization, Romani Archaman and the old me, the most ordinary office plankton who lived the most ordinary life.

And accordingly, I received their memories, knowledge, skills and some character traits. Including Solomon's own body. And what can I say? I don't envy Solomon - I feel sorry for him. In his entire life, he never made a single decision of his own volition. But there was only one exception - the desire to become human. That's how Romani Archaman was born. That's how he learned human emotions and aspirations.

I could feel the faint presence of magic in these lands. And the farther south it went, the weaker it became. It was as if there, in the south, the magic was already dead and had nothing to hold on to. But towards the north, the situation was completely opposite.

The further north you go, the stronger it is. The ley lines of this world are in the north? That's the only conclusion I could come up with. Also, the local mana is so diluted and smeared. It was similar to the mana that Romany felt when he was alive. That is, mana from the age of man. So, either the era of the gods of this world has already ended or is just coming to an end.

No, it isn't. The mana of this world is even weaker than it should be in the age of man. That is, the world is approaching its tipping point. A point that will determine its fate. Whether it should continue to exist or be lost in the sands of time. And from the amount of mana I could sense, that tipping point would be reached within the next ten years, give or take.

I think I've found the reason for my arrival in this world. As well as the reason for my meeting this boy. By looking at him with my Wisdom, I was able to see threads of fate in him, more like ropes of some sort. And those were the threads that my eyes saw in Ritsuka Fujimaru. That boy is one of the key figures of this world.

While I was pondering, with the edge of my eye, I managed to notice a slight movement from the boy's side. And, after a couple of seconds, he opened his eyes and slowly stood up, looking around. When he saw me, his eyes opened wide with surprise for a moment, but quickly returned to normal, apparently remembering what had happened.

- "Are you all right, child?" I asked him.

- "Y-yes. Thank you, sir mage, for saving my life. I swear on my honor that I will repay you for your kindness," he said, and slowly rose to his feet and bowed to me."

- "You need not. I helped you on a whim," I said in a relaxed tone and waved my hand, "Besides, I'm a Magician. Not a mage or a sir. My name is Solomon. What's your name, boy? Are you hungry?"

- "J-Jon Snow, My Lord. And no, I'm not hungry," he replied nervously.

My lord? A cost of the Middle Ages, I suppose.

- "You may not lie to me, Jon. I can see you're hungry. Here, eat this. It will satisfy your hunger," I said and held out my hand to him with the bread I had just created with magic.

When he saw it, he took the bread carefully and started eating it rather quickly. He began to look like a hamster with his cheeks stuffed with food.

- "Don't be in a hurry. I can give you more if you're still hungry," I said, to which he nodded embarrassedly and began to eat more slowly, "And can you tell me how you ended up in the forest alone, without any escort or parents?"

- "I... I got lost," he mumbled as he chewed his food and lowered his head in shame, "I was accompanied by two people, but... but..."

- "It's all right, Jon. Calm down. Tell me everything from the beginning," I said soothingly when I saw that he was on the verge of tears.

After a couple of minutes he calmed down and began his story. From the boy's words I could understand one thing - his father's current wife hated him with every fiber of her being and tried to get rid of him. And the boy didn't even realize it.

- "I see. It's unfortunate," I said when he finished his story, "Now that there's a little storm outside, I think we have time to talk. Tell me about your home, your family. I don't mind hearing a story or two."

- "Okay. (chuckles) But can I ask you a question before I do?"

- "Of course," I nodded and made myself comfortable on my rock.

- "Where are you from, Lord Solomon? And who were you before you came here?" He asked with genuine interest.

- "Оh? I understand the reason for your first question, but the second... What made you ask it?" I asked, giving him a surprised look.

- "Well..." he began, a little miffed. - Your aura... It's... so powerful, so... meaningful. Like you're the ruler, or perhaps the King, of some country."

- "So you can feel my aura, Jon?"

- "Y-yes. Is that abnormal?" Jon asked nervously.

- "No, it's not. It's quite normal," I said, and he breathed a sigh of relief, "For someone capable of magic, of course."

- "M-magic?" - he asked in a shaky voice, "I-I have the power of m-magic?"

- "You can't see my aura, but you can feel its pressure, can't you? It's like an invisible wave is washing over you, and your instincts are screaming for power," I asked with genuine curiosity. To which the boy nodded confidently.

- "Ordinary people, incapable of magic, can't feel it. Not even the tiniest bit of it. But you can. I'd even say you're very gifted at it, since I've hidden my magic and aura. Given the age we're in, I don't think even a well-trained local mage would be able to sense them."

- "Age, Lord Solomon?" he asked in confusion.

- "Why don't you tell me your story, Jon? And I'll answer your questions in return. It will do us both good."

When he heard me, his face took on a thoughtful look, as if deciding whether to agree.

What a mature boy. Understandable, though, given his circumstances.

- "Okay," he said after a while and nodded his head.

Jon began to talk about everything he knew himself. He talked about his home, Winterfell, his family, the Stark family, the land where I am and how he had lived up to this point. He even mentioned the political system and power structure in this country.

And from his story I was able to draw a few conclusions. This world resembles medieval Europe with all the implications: religion still has a strong influence on people's minds, there are active power struggles, and intrigue and conspiracies are as commonplace as the cold in the North. To get more information I would need a library, which Winterfell definitely has.

The marriage between the current ruler of the North and his wife was definitely political. His bannermen would not have accepted such a marriage for nothing. They would not allow their lord to marry a woman who was unfamiliar with the traditions and customs of their lands. But they had to accept it because of the circumstances. More specifically, because of the recent war. To prevent the Seven Kingdoms from becoming Six, it was necessary to bind the North to the South. And the typical solution for this time was political marriage.

According to Jon, the current Lady of Winterfell, Catelyn Stark, is a devotee of the Seven faith, and a rather fierce one at that, while the people of the North believe in the Old Gods. And her faith dictates that any bastard is a child of vice and unworthy of life. Which translated into her attitude towards little Jon.

How... disappointing. Children should not bear the sins of their parents. But apparently she was unfamiliar with the phrase. Nor to this world, I think.

When Jon finished speaking, he took a deep breath. I produced a small flask of water and held it out to him. He gratefully accepted it and took a couple sips.

- "Thank you for sharing your story with me, Jon," I said and looked toward the entrance to the cave we were in, "The storm was over. I think we can leave for Winterfell. I will answer your questions along the way, as I promised you earlier."

- "We, Lord Solomon? You're going there too?" asked a confused Jon.

- "Of course. I would like to escort you there. Or do you mind?"

- "N-no, of course not? I'd appreciate it," he said, and waved his arms.

- "That's good," I said, and gave him my hand with a smile, "Shall we go?"

He nodded and stood up, taking my hand.

- "Y-yes. Let's go."

Since I had already lived two lives, why not a third? Unbeknownst to me, a slight smile appeared on my face.

And so began my journey in this new world.

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
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[mirzael]

Eddard Stark. Winterfell.

I sat at the desk in my study and stared sternly at Cat standing in front of me.

- "Cat, please tell me honestly what happened to Jon," I asked her in a cold tone.

Jon is missing. And unfortunately, my first thought as it happened was Cat's actions behind my back.

I love her. I really do. Cat is a good mother and wife, and also, has given me five children that she and I truly love. But her faith and her upbringing in the South are too ingrained in her mind to realize that she is now in the North. And, influenced by these factors, she sometimes fails to realize that every word she says against me jeopardizes my credibility with the lords of the North.

The North is a harsh place. Raiding Wildlings who somehow manage to get over the Wall are quite common in these lands, as are long winters. The lands of the North are poor, and basic food supplies are purchased. As a consequence, there is a tendency to die of cold and starvation.

In terms of faith, however, the people of the North are descended from the First Men, not the Andals like the Southerners. The faith of the Old Gods dominates here, not the Seven Gods that Cat professes.

Again, I genuinely love her, but I don't particularly agree with several of her decisions. Take Arya, for example. I could see her passion for the sword over crafting. She preferred spending time with Robb and Jon, swinging the same sword and wearing pants rather than learning the etiquette of noble ladies and wearing dresses.

When I heard this from Arya herself, a sense of nostalgia ran through me. She reminded me of Lyanna, just as exuberant, spirited, and defying conventions with her rebellious temperament. But Cat threw a tantrum at the same moment: "That's no way for a lady to behave," "You mustn't act like a boy," and so on. Also, she was eagerly supported by Septa Mordane.

What about me? Even considering that I am the Lord and Ruler of the North, I couldn't directly forbid them from doing so, but only make hints or requests. If I didn't limit myself to that, I could provoke the adherents of the Seven Faith. The Lords of the North would support me, but not the South. Any pressure from them, covert or not, could create problems with disruptions in the North's food supply, and more deaths, or even the ground for war to break out. As ruler, I can't allow that to happen, and I can only accept the present circumstances.

Now, Jon is missing. And I the only person capable of pulling this off so quietly in my castle was Cat. She sees him as a threat to Robb and the others. She fears Jon wants to take our children's place and become Lord of Winterfell by getting rid of them. Every chance she gets, Cat bluntly tells me he's the enemy and I should deal with the matter accordingly.

But he isn't. I know Jon. He grew up before my eyes, and I can tell you that he genuinely loves and cares for his siblings. All he wants is to prove himself worthy of the Stark blood. Worthy of love and family.

Maybe... Just maybe... If I told Cat everything, she would take the boy in, and maybe become the mother he never knew he had.

But I can't. I made a promise to Lyanna that I would take that secret with me to my grave. But the biggest reason I didn't tell it was because Robert would kill Jon with his own hands. Robert was taking his sister's death very hard, and even harder the fact that she hadn't chosen him.

He loved her, there's no doubt about that. But too much. I'd even say he was obsessed with her. Lyanna was the only one who outright refused his advances, and the one who defied him with her actions. And if Robert finds out that Jon is the son of Lyanna and Rhaegar Targaryen, he will simply go mad with rage and jealousy. I can't let that happen. Not under any circumstances. He's my friend, though he's not what he used to be. And Lyanna is my sister, to whom I made a promise to keep her son safe. Just thinking about it makes my heart ache.

- "I don't know what you mean, Ned," she said as if she knew nothing, "Maybe he finally realized he wasn't causing trouble for all of us and left."

- "Stop lying to me! I know you did this! The people you sent to 'escort' Jon on 'my' orders have already told me everything," I stood up abruptly and slapped the table so hard that Cat flinched, "Why did you do that? Answer me, Cat!"

- "You want my answer?!" She threw up her hands and a look of pure anger and resentment appeared on her face, "He is a bastard, Ned! Your bastard! You betrayed me! You betrayed your family! The Gods to whom we swore allegiance together! You made him with some whore and now you're rubbing it in my face! Do you have any idea how much pain I feel when I look at him?! When I see YOUR eyes staring out of his eye sockets?! Is that the answer you wanted to hear?!"

- "Shut your mouth! She's not a whore! She's my-" I shouted as my emotions got the best of me. But I quickly realized I'd said too much and stopped talking.

- "Who is she?! Your what?! Who t-"

Before she could finish, one of the castle guards burst into my office. For which I am very grateful. I cannot let the secret of Jon's birth be revealed.

- "My Lord! I apologize for the interruption, but Jon Snow has returned," he said.

- "How dare you interrupt—"

- "Great!" I interrupted Cat. I don't even want to imagine what point her displeasure had reached. I grabbed my cloak and sword and headed for the guard, "Take me to him."

- "Yes, my lord," he bowed slightly, and led me to Jon.

When we reached the gates of Winterfell, I could hear people talking passionately about something. I managed to catch the rather repetitive words, "Man" and "strange".

- "Jon was alone? And what was your name?" I decided to ask.

- "No, my lord. I apologize for not mentioning it. Lady Stark's gaze took it out of my head. And my name is Garold," he apologized as he continued to lead me.

- "It's all right. Just answer the question, Garold."

- "Jon Snow was brought in by a man. A very strange man."

- "Strange?"

- "He was barefoot, Lord Stark. And his clothes certainly didn't fit the North. But he didn't seem the least bit disconcerted by the weather. And now it's the middle of Winter," he began to explain, "And there's something else. Don't call me crazy, but when I saw him, I wanted to bow. His figure inspired... how shall I put it?"

- "Fear?"

- "No, my lord. Not fear, but awe. Yes, that's the word. It was as if I were looking at a king from the legends. It was a very strange feeling. You'll know what I mean when you see it for yourself."

Awe? A king from legend? That's right. This guard looked quite young, about 25 years old, I'd say. And at that age, the people of the North have usually seen a lot of different things, and for some person to be able to make one feel this particular thing is pretty doubtful. I'll draw conclusions once I see the man, though.

- "We're here," Garold said, pointing to the large crowd, "Disperse! Lord Stark has arrived."

The crowd began to part slowly, and as I took a few steps, I saw Jon holding a man's hand. And as soon as my gaze met his, my breath caught. I realized what Garold had told me a moment ago. I felt an invisible pressure come over me, along with a gaze the color of pure gold, from this man. It was as if he was...judging me. Judging on behalf of the Gods themselves.

All my senses screamed and my mind tried to force me to kneel before this man. My legs squinted and trembled under the pressure, but I fought without breaking eye contact with him. And when my legs had the last shreds of strength left in them to keep me upright, the pressure disappeared as if it had never been there. I started breathing deeply, trying to come to my senses. And as I did so, words came into my head:

- "Very impressive, Lord Stark. You are a great man indeed."

I looked around for the source, and after quickly making some conclusions, I looked at the unknown man who had brought Jon in. And on his face I saw a soft smile.

- "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Stark. My name is Solomon," he said in the voice I heard in my head, "Magician."

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
My P.a.t.r.e.o.n: P.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m/mirzael
You'll be able to read more chapters there.

 

[mirzael]

Solomon. Winterfell.

Lord of Winterfell study was rather ordinary, but spacious. Everything was made of wood: the floor, the ceiling, and all the furniture. There was a light odor of wood, papers, and ink in the room. The rays of the afternoon sun streamed through the window and illuminated Lord Stark's office where I was.

It wasn't until I saw Winterfell that my eyes were able to pick up on one thing. The castle was surrounded by a closed field. A powerful one at that. I'm beginning to understand how Jon has such a high perception of mana. Perhaps I should research the history of this castle, as well as the ruling family of this land.

As our group walked here, we managed to attract the gaze of every inhabitant of the castle. Mostly, they all focused on me. I guess my usual attire was a bit... inappropriate.

In my past life, not Solomon's, not Romani Archaman's, but my own, I had no problem with that. I was a very ordinary average man: ordinary job, ordinary family, ordinary life. If this had happened to the past me, I would have died of embarrassment by now, but now... Now I didn't care. As if catching stares from a huge number of people is completely normal. No, it's not. It's like I KNOW it SHOULD be.

And need I mention the female attention? My hearing could clearly pick up their sighs and gaze. My appearance is very exotic for this time...and very attractive. I could feel their attraction to me. And it was so dense that you could physically touch it with your hand. But, again, as with the looks, I didn't care.

What a strange feeling. Is this Solomon's influence on my perception? Quite possibly.

Besides me, there were three other people present: Lord Stark, a man of advanced years, and Lady Stark. I could tell from the way she was acting: a confident expression, a proud posture, and a glance in my direction filled with hidden rage. But in it, I sensed a certain... uncertainty. As if she was questioning how exactly to respond to me, beyond fury at my helping Jon.

The man kept his hand on the hilt of his sword and watched my movements carefully. But his eyes occasionally expressed doubt. Maybe even worry. That was true of Lord Stark himself. But that was to be expected, since the first time we met, I had released a small amount of mana and focused it on him. I wanted to test him. To test Jon's faith in him and one theory.

And Lord Stark came through with flying colors. If he had lived in my time, I would have accepted him into my retinue.

At that thought, I froze.

My time? Why did I think that? Why were my thoughts so certain? Well, it would have to be faced either way.

- "Ahem," Lord Stark cleared his throat, "Let us begin with an introduction. My name is Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell - then he pointed to Lady Stark - She is Catelyn Stark, Lady of Winterfell and my wife - and then, to the last man in the room - The man next to me is Rodrik Cassel, knight and master of the weapons of Winterfell."

- "It is a pleasure to meet you," I bowed with a slight smile, "My name is Solomon. And I'm a Magician."

- "Magician?" - The man Lord Stark called Rodrik asked hesitantly, "Why did you call yourself a wizard and not a sorcerer or a wizard, Lord Solomon? And can we see proof of your words?"

- "Lord?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.

- "You may not have mentioned it, but you give the impression of noble blood. Your movements, your posture, and your way of speaking give you away," Rodrik replied, and Lord and Lady Stark nodded silently, "I would even say that you are directly related to the royal family."

- "I see. In a way, you're right. As for your question..."

I raised both of my hands and two swords appeared in them. They were absolutely identical to each other, but one of them appeared in a brief flash of blue light, and the other without it.

With my side vision, I managed to catch the stunned faces of the people in the room: their mouths were wide open, and their eyes were frozen in shock as if they would fall out of their eye sockets just a little more. Lady Stark even managed to take a step back without even realizing it.

- "Here's an example," I said, and turned to Ser Rodrik and held the swords out to him, hilted in his direction, "Ser Rodrik, would you be so kind as to compare them? Is there any difference between them?"

He glanced briefly at Lord Stark, and when he saw him nod, he took the swords in his hands.

First he examined them thoroughly, then he compared their weights, moving them one at a time. Afterward, he took a few swings of each of them. After a moment, he finished and handed the swords back to me.

- "They are exactly the same, Lord Solomon. If that was an example, I didn't get the point at all."

- "Let me ask you a question. Is it possible to forge swords like these?" I asked, still holding them in my hands.

- "Of course."

- "And did you notice that one of them appeared in a brief flash of light?"

- "Of course I did. But I still don't understand the difference between them."

- "This one," I pointed to the sword, which, after a moment, shattered into flashes of blue dust, "Sorcery, or Magecraft, is the most ordinary forging process, but in an accelerated mode. My mana, or magical energy, essentially went through the entire forging process and took the shape of a sword. I won't go into details, but when this happens, the world itself considers it wrong. Such a process goes against the most fundamental laws of nature. More specifically, the cause and effect chain of things. For example, you can't start forging a sword without melting the metal beforehand, and so on. So items created by magic are short-lived. And the time allotted for existence depends only on the amount of mana you put into creating the item. A flash of light during creation is the mana filling of the object, and scattering into dust during destruction is a sign that the mana in the object is running out and can no longer maintain its shape. The influence of the world only hastens the destruction of this unnatural object, draining the mana that makes it up."

- "I see," Lord Stark nodded, "And Magic?"

- "That's much simpler," I smiled and picked up the remaining sword, "Magic, or True Magic, is a miracle. It bypasses all the laws of the universe and imposes its own rules, adjusting the world to suit itself. This sword that I still hold in my hand is completely real. It will not disappear in a year, or two years, or even a century. To the world, this sword has come into its own. As if it had always existed. And that's the point of Magic - to create "something" and have the world recognize that "something", no matter how illogical or impossible it may be. That "something" just is. That's why there was no flash, and there never will be."

After the explanation, I handed the sword to Ser Rodrik and waited for the end of Lord Stark's musings.

- "It's... very complicated," Lord Stark said after a couple minutes, rubbing his temples, "And perhaps I'm a little late with this, but I'm grateful to you for saving Jon. And I'd like to reward you."

- "No need, Lord Stark. I did it of my own free will, and I don't want any reward. But I was very grateful if you could give me a modest place to stay and access to your library. Plus, we can continue the conversation if you have any questions about me."

I decided to give him a hint that I was willing to tell him about myself, and that I was not a spy for his enemies. Since I don't know the full picture of these lands, I think I should take a purely wait-and-see attitude. And once I've studied the records of them, I'll make plans. Well, I already have a plan.

- "I see. You can stay in the castle as long as you need to, Lord Solomon," Lord Stark nodded, understanding my words. He got looks from Lady Stark and Ser Rodrik, "And you may visit the castle library. If I am right, you are not from these lands, which means you can share good stories with Maester Luwin."

- "Thank you, Lord Stark," I said with a slight bow, "And may I ask one more favor?"

- "What favor?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

- "I would like to teach Jon magic. If you would allow it, of course."

Not only he was surprised to hear me, but the other two as well. An expected reaction. From talking to them, and from Jon's words, it was clear that magic was still alive in this world. Pretty good news, if I do say so.

Besides, Jon has a hard fate ahead of him, as my eyes have shown me. So why not give him a little boost to his development?

- "May I ask why, Lord Solomon?"

- "He's very sensitive to the mana I mentioned earlier," I said and looked him over, "And it seems to be hereditary. You, too, are gifted in that way."

- "You mean the incident at the gate?"

- "That's right. If you didn't have that gift, you wouldn't have lasted a second. I understand there are certain legends or myths about your family, aren't there?"

- "You're right. There are indeed. And I will consider your request," he nodded, scratching his chin, "I think you are tired from your long journey, Lord Solomon. I suggest we continue this conversation another time. Ser Rodrik will take you to your chambers."

- "Thank you for your generosity, Lord Stark. Have a good day," I said with a bow and headed for the door where Ser Rodrik was waiting.

- "Follow me," he said and led me into the chambers as I approached him.

Well, this was a pleasant conversation. I hope it continues in the same vein. I hope so.

-0-

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[mirzael]

Catelyn Stark. Winterfell.

My gaze never left the door through which the man had left the room. Questions popped into my head every now and then as to why I was silently watching the conversation unfold.

My body simply wasn't responding to my orders. It was as if the Seven themselves had taken control of it and forced it to listen to the words of this 'Magician'. But it wasn't just that.

Only for a moment did his gaze find mine, and only for a moment did I feel the call of my mind. A call forcing me to kneel before the Magician. To recognize his greatness, his... wisdom.

And his magic... When the swords appeared in his hands, seemingly out of nowhere, I was struck with fear. I was afraid he would use them. First at us and then at our children. I wanted to scream and warn Ned, but... my body wouldn't listen to me. My mouth was still closed. And taking a small step back was the only thing I could do with all my willpower.

To my great relief, the swords in his hands remained only a demonstration, just as the man had claimed. But what if he hadn't limited it to just her? What if he had ill intentions toward our family? I need to speak to Septa Mordane. I hope the Seven will give me answers to these questions. I hope they keep my family safe from this "Magician". I am not attracted to the thought of him corrupting the young minds of our children.

I dread to imagine the effect he would have on innocent little Sansa, who was so attracted to fairy tales of prince charming. She would fall in love with him at first sight, for he knew how to hold his own and was...handsome. And I can't deny that fact. His looks are as beautiful as they are unnatural to this world. And that was alarming.

But I couldn't help but recognize the validity of the words of the master over the weapon. His every movement was filled with grace and refinement. His confident look and straight posture gave the impression that the "Magician" was born and raised at a high court, having acquired the ability to lead and hold himself. Throughout his entire presence in the study, he never once showed weakness or insecurity.

The man's very presence was... unnatural. Throughout the entire conversation, there was only one emotion on his face: indifference. It was as if he wasn't even human at all. As if... he was above Ser Rodrik, Ned, me, and everyone else.

Even if I wanted to express my displeasure at his actions, my mind and my body refused to do so. It wasn't until the man left the room that I was able to regain control of my own body.

- "What's the matter, Cat?" Ned asked me a couple minutes after the Magician left, "You've been silent the whole conversation, which seems very strange to me."

- "Ned, don't you think your decision to put him in the castle was too hasty? Are you sure the children are safe? He could be the enemy."

- "That's enough, Cat. If he wanted to hurt them or us, he would have done it by now," he shook his head.

- "What makes you so sure of that?"

- "I can feel it," Ned said with some uncertainty, "He's very powerful. That's what my senses and instincts tell me. And I tend to trust them. Besides, I'd rather have him in my sight than not."

- "I understand. But please keep your guard up," I sighed tiredly, "I need to rest."

- "Of course you do."

And on those words, I headed to our room.

-0-

Jon Snow. Winterfell.

- "You mean two wildlings just caught fire out of the blue!" exclaimed a surprised Arya.

- "You're my brother, Jon, but what you've told me is pretty hard to believe," Robb shook his head.

- "Is he really that handsome?" Sansa murmured with interest.

- "Let's ask him to show us magic," Bran asked weakly.

All my siblings were enthusiastically discussing my adventures in the Wolfswood. Especially Lord Solomon and his magic.

When he and I arrived at Winterfell, we captured the attention of what I thought was the entire castle. But as it turned out, Robb, Sansa, Arya, and Bran were not part of the gawkers. So now I find myself in Robb's room telling him what has happened to me in the last twenty-four hours.

- "Good!" I shouted, unable to stand the discussion, "Let's just go and talk to Lord Solomon!"

- "Yes!" Arya and Bran cheered.

- "Well, we don't have anything to do yet anyway," Robb shrugged. Sansa nodded briefly, agreeing with him.
Our group walked through the halls of Winterfell and saw Ser Rodrik heading for his father's study.

- "Ser Rodrik!" Bran shouted to him.

- "My lord? And... the others," Ser Rodrik turned around and made a surprised face, "What are you doing?"

- "Ser Rodrik, can you tell us where Lord Solomon is staying? We'd like to pay him a visit," Robb said, imitating his father.

- "Yes! We'd like to see his magic!" Arya and Bran seconded him.

- "Is that so?" He asked, looking at us doubtfully, "You do realize that Lord and Lady Stark won't like your idea, don't you?"

- "Please!" Bran begged, making the saddest face he could.

Ser Rodrik stared at us for a long moment. After a while, he sighed tiredly and scratched the back of his head.

- "Good. I'll take you to him. But don't mention this to your parents."

- "Of course! We won't say anything!" Arya said cheerfully and smiled broadly.

- "Follow me. Lord Solomon is lodged in one of the rooms in the castle," he shook his head and led us in a certain direction.

-0-

Sansa Stark. Winterfell.

- "He's here," Ser Rodrik said and knocked.

- "Come in," I heard a pleasant voice on the other side of the door.

- "My lords, my lady, I'll stand here, just in case," he stood near the passageway, "Shout if anything happens. And, just in case, be careful."

We nodded and entered the room.

And when my gaze found the only person there, I froze and my heart began to pound frantically.

Jon's words didn't convey the beauty of this man. They just couldn't do it.

His bronze skin gave him an exotic, attractive look. It made him stand out from the crowd like a beacon in the night. His black and scarlet robe was sewn with a craftsmanship I had never seen in my entire life. Not even my mother's gowns looked as elegant and magnificent as this robe. His gold rings on his hands and fingers glistened in the daylight, dazzling me with their sophistication.

But the most beautiful thing about his appearance was his hair and face.

Long and snow-white. This man's hair created a contrast with his skin, giving him a mysterious and magnificent appearance. With every movement of this man, they moved in time and drew attention to them. They were so beautiful that I was sad to compare them to my own, which didn't look as mesmerizing.

And his face... Gorgeous. Every muscle on it was refined and symmetrical. And the color of his eyes hypnotized me, making my heart pound even faster.

Everything about this man looked so perfect. So...magical. As if he were a prince from the fairy tales my mother and Septa Mordane had told me about.

And when his gaze met mine, I couldn't stand it and quickly looked away. My hands went to my cheeks and felt their heat, which I could clearly feel.

Maybe... Maybe he was my destiny? Maybe...am I in love?

N-no. A noble lady should not behave like this!

Feeling very embarrassed that I had shown him this unsightly side of me, I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze. But my mind...my heart was screaming at me to take another look at him. The perfect man.

- "Gods... I think Sansa has fallen in love!" I heard Arya's loud voice. And when I looked up, I saw a wide grin on my little sister's face.

- "N-no! N-don't be silly!" I waved my hands, trying to deny her words.

- "She's in love! She's in love!" she started shouting, pointing her finger in my direction.

- "I-I-" I stuttered, not knowing what to say, and hid behind Robb's back.

- "Stop teasing your sister, Arya," he intervened, giving me a slight hug and turning toward the man. While Arya was showing Robb her tongue, "I apologize for that, Lord Solomon. Arya is a bit childish, and likes to tease others."

- "Hey!" she started to emerge, but Robb paid her no heed.

- "My name is Robb Stark, eldest son of House Stark," he introduced himself, mimicking his father's businesslike tone as I hid my blushing face in his arms, "And these are my siblings. Arya Stark, Bran Stark, and Sansa Stark, who's a little...off right now. And last but not least, Jon Snow. Though you probably already know that, Lord Solomon."

- "It is a pleasure to meet you, my lords, my lady," came the melodious voice of a man, "I am Solomon. Just Solomon."

- "Can you use magic?! Can you show us?!" Arya shrieked. My interest got the better of me, though, and I gently poked my head out of Robb's embrace and looked at Lord Solomon.

He only smiled softly, giving me the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen, and raised his hand palm up. A small light the size of a small mouse appeared above his hand, which then began to slowly change shape. And after a couple seconds, in his palm was a small lute wolf composed of flame. It moved as if alive, sniffed Lord Solomon's hand, and licked one of his fingers.

- "How beautiful," I murmured, not taking my eyes off the fiery direwolf.

- "How cool!" Bran and Arya shrieked.

- "Can I touch it, Lord Solomon?" came Jon's voice.

- "Of course."

Jon slowly brought his hand up to the wolf. I squeezed my eyes shut, fearing he would burn, but it didn't happen. When I opened my eyes, I saw Jon stroking the flame with careful movements. The man's smile never left his face. Lord Solomon was watching Jon's actions with genuine interest, as were we all. Even my fidgety little sister watched in silence.

After a minute or two, he squeezed his hand, extinguishing the flame, and turned his gaze back to us.

- "May I ask what you sought me out for, besides magic?"

- "You're not from here, are you, Lord Solomon?" Robb asked, coming to his senses.

- "You are right, my lord," the man nodded, "I am from a very distant land."

- "Can you tell us stories from there? - I asked with courage. My brothers and sister supported me with nods.

He thought for a moment and scratched his chin. I couldn't help but notice how delicately his hand moved. As if he were a prince or... a king.

- "Of course," he nodded and turned his head toward the door, "You can listen too, Ser Rodrik."

The door to the room opened slowly, and Ser Rodrik stepped inside with some uncertainty.

- "How did you know I was there?" He asked, glancing at Lord Solomon.

- "Why did you think I didn't know about it from the beginning?" Lord Solomon answered with a question.

- "Heh. Magic," Ser Rodrik grinned, "There isn't enough room in this room for all of us. We can move to another room."

- "That won't be necessary," Lord Solomon said, and a snap of fingers echoed through the room. In flashes of light, leather-covered chairs appeared in the room, "Have a seat."

- "Aha. Magic," Ser Rodrik repeated and sat down, touching one of the chairs, "They are very comfortable and soft, Lord Solomon. Do they all use them where you come from?"

- "You could say that."

When I saw that Ser Rodrik was already seated, I sat down in the empty chair like everyone else and looked at the man, waiting for him to begin his story.

- "I think I'll start with a story about a certain smith and his famous "married" swords."

- "Married, Lord Solomon?" I asked, hearing his words. Swords that were called 'married' swords... I wonder what story is behind them.

- "That is correct, Lady Sansa," he nodded, and a nostalgic smile appeared on his face, "Once upon a time..."

-0-

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[mirzael]

Solomon. Winterfell.
One year later.

- "Ouch!" I heard Jon's voice and looked in his direction.

My eyes saw him rubbing his right hand, on which the remnants of Ingwaz, the rune of fortification, had fluttered, and looking at the stone that was acting as a target.

- "Did you get the rune wrong again, Jon?" I asked and rubbed my temple, "Didn't I tell you that any mistake could cost you your life?"

- "You did, Lord Solomon," Jon said, his head lowered in shame, "I apologize."

- "It's okay, you're just learning," I shook my head and ruffled his hair in a soothing gesture, "But be more careful next time and take your time. You've managed to master Projection, Structural Grip, and Strengthening to an acceptable level this year, which is very impressive."

- "I understand, Lord Solomon," he cheered up and began practicing again.

While in Winterfell's Keep, I observed Jon practicing magic. Lord Stark did not allow me to take him on as an apprentice until a month after our conversation.

After another month, after lecturing him on the dangers that would accompany him on his journey as a mage, I activated his magical circuits. As I expected, he only understood my words at the moment of the ritual, which his entire family came to watch.

Jon screamed. Loudly and painfully. So much so that Lord Stark and Robb tried to help him. But I didn't allow it, to which I received enraged looks. The rest of the Stark family froze in a sense of fear. Even Lady Stark, who hated Jon to the bone.

After a moment, the ritual was complete, and I let them in to see him. Jon was in a very weakened state, but my senses caught what he was feeling at that moment - happiness. He was happy that he had endured this and was able to prove his worth. And my findings only reinforced that feeling.

Jon had forty magical chains of high quality. And each of them could pass not the usual ten mana, but thirty. Which could be considered a feat in this era. And when I asked him to activate them, he did so with extraordinary ease. As Jon told me, his trigger was the image of taking his sword out of its sheath, which is to be expected.

The next day we learned his Origin and Element.

His Element was ice, a sub-element of water. Which I wasn't surprised by, having studied the history of the Stark family.
And his Origin was Understanding. That explained his high rate of learning. During Romani Archaman's lifetime, such learning ability was rare and valued in the Clock Tower.

But what puzzled me more than a little was that he had an Aspect that was usually present in mage families. Jon's Aspect was Life.

Using my Clairvoyance on his essence, I was able to discern something interesting. He was the bastard son of someone with dragon blood.

After researching the Winterfell library, I learned that dragons are extinct. And only Targaryens with their blood in their veins were still alive until recently. But as I see it, that information is out of date. How else could a fifteen-year-old boy have dragon blood in him?

It all makes sense, though. Jon got an aspect from the Targaryens and an element from the Starks. That's an impressive backstory.

And when he had mastered the basic three spells, I decided to teach him the art of runes. They are easy to master, and their power depends on the understanding of the practicing mage. And with Jon's Origin, there should be no problem at all.

And then there are these Weirwoods... Magic lived in them. As I've learned, these trees were beacons of magic here in the North. And so was the Wall built by Brandon the Builder, as the legend says. It says the Wall protects the Seven Kingdoms from the dangers beyond. White Walkers. Undead creatures filled with the energy of ice and snow. And unfortunately, that's all I could find out.

- "Lord Solomon! Jon!" I heard a cheerful maiden's voice from the entrance to the Godswood, "I've brought you something to eat!"

- "Don't run so fast! Wait for me!" I heard another one from the same place.

- "Take your time if you don't want to trip and fall."

Turning in the direction of the voice, the Stark family's daughters and their father came into view.

And exactly what Lord Stark said happened. Almost reaching me, Arya stumbled and began to fall, letting the basket of food fall from her hands. I only sighed tiredly and swung my hand gently. The basket of food hovered, and tree roots emerged from the ground to pick Arya up and keep her from falling.

- "This is why I told you to listen to your father more, my lady," I said, and lifted her off the roots and set her on the ground.

But instead of standing on her own feet, she hugged me and started hanging on me like a panda, making a pouty face.

- "I told you to call me Arya!" she muttered.

- "Unfortunately, I can't yet, my lady," I smiled and stroked her head.

- "I'm not a lady!" Arya shrieked, shaking her head.

I sighed to myself. Well, she wasn't wrong. There's no way her destiny can match a lady. She's too energetic for that.

- "Ahem," Lord Stark cleared his throat, looking at us, "You're making Lord Solomon uncomfortable. Please get off him."

- "Hm-hm," Sansa nodded, looking at her sister with a look full of envy.

- "Okay," Arya snorted and got off me, "I'm going to go check on Jon."

And at those words, she walked over to Jon and hugged him and started talking to him about something. Let him rest now that he's had a chance.

- "Greetings, Lord Stark," I bowed slightly, "How was your day?"

- "You may call me Ned, Lord Solomon. And I'll do the same for my part," he smiled cheerfully, "After what you have done for the North, for the Stark family, you are our friend."

- "Just because of providing a way to make paper and glass?" Tilting my head to the side, I didn't understand, "Friendship with you is worth so little?"

- "Heh," he grinned, "If that were true, the North wouldn't exist. Thanks to you, we've been able to get rid of our food supply problems, and the money from the paper and glass trade has been pouring into Winterfell's coffers steadily. Plus, my children love you."

- "And you're not afraid I'm a spy or an assassin?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

- "In the name of the gods. If you were an assassin, you would have done your job long ago, given your abilities. And a spy? Do you believe that yourself?"

All I could do was shrug. Eddard Stark is a man of honor and dignity. Kind and forgiving. But too soft.

Speaking with Maester Luwin from time to time, it became clear to me that he was born in the wrong place at the wrong time. The lords of the rest of the Seven Kingdoms are cunning and devious. Honor is nothing but an empty sound to them - all that matters is profit, be it material or spiritual. At least, that's what I learned from my conversations with Maester.

- "I understand. Ned."

- "That's good, Solomon," he smiled cheerfully and patted me on the shoulder, "Besides, I don't think the children mind, do you, Sansa?"

- "Of course they do!" she said loudly and, realizing her actions, quickly closed her mouth and blanched in embarrassment.

- "Well, if it's okay..." I scratched the back of my head and turned to the side, "Jon, Arya, come here. It's time to eat."

- "All right!" They shrieked and walked in our direction.

-0-

Solomon. Winterfell.
Evening.

When we returned and went to our rooms, I was escorted away by a very unsure look from Lady Stark. And... it was very strange. All I saw in it was uncertainty. No anger, no joy, no emotion of any kind. All I could do was shrug my shoulders and walk into my room.

As I sat there, I stared at the fireplace set there. More specifically, at the flames that danced in it. It wriggled and crackled, releasing tongues of fire right in my direction. And there was something familiar about it. Very familiar.

And the next moment, I had a flash of memories in my head, showing a creature unknown to me. It was larger than a man. Its skin was covered in scales. It had huge horns on its head, covered in flames. And a giant eye in its chest, glowing ominously scarlet in color.

Goetia, Beast I. Solomon's magic that fused seventy-two Demons into one being.

A nostalgic smile appeared on my face that I didn't notice, and the flame flared. It revealed two eyes staring at me intently.

- "Who are you?" I heard a hoarse and old voice coming directly from the flames.

- "Solomon, the Magician," I introduced myself, staring into something's eyes, "And who are you?"

- "R'Glor," the voice answered me a few seconds later. And it said it with great force, and my nose smelled the distinct odor of ash and cinders.

How... interesting.

- "Nice to meet you, R'Glor," I smiled and moved closer to the fireplace.

What an interesting creature.

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
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[mirzael]

Kinvara. Volantis.

The morning sun was just showing in the sky, and I was running into the main hall of the temple, ignoring my clothes and unkept hair. I felt a rush of heat coming from the main hall of the temple, where there was a huge brazier with the ever-burning flame of the Lord of Light.

Bursting in, my eyes saw that the flame, which was not even half the height of the hall, now reached the ceiling. It took up a third of the entire room, and red priests and priestesses from all over Volantis were kneeling and praying as they gazed upon it.

And when I came close to the flame, my vision went dark for a moment, and the next moment I was in a void of fire and smoke. Before me was a human silhouette made entirely of flame. Huge. Strong. Magnificent. I couldn't make out any features, but I knew it was him. The Lord of Light, R'Glor.

I just couldn't believe it. He was standing before me in person. In all of history, the Lord of Light had never appeared in person and carried someone into his domain. My body instantly went to a kneeling posture, and my head bowed in anticipation.

- "Kinvara," I heard the deep and strong voice of the Lord of Light, bowing my head even lower, "You have an assignment."

- "Yes, Lord of Light. Kinvara listens attentively."

- "Find... someone," he said in a majestic tone. But I could detect a tiny note of doubt.

Our god... doubted? H-how is that possible? What could cause him to doubt?

- "Who, my lord?"

- "Solomon. The Magician," he declared while his burning eyes were directed directly at me, "He is in the North. Find him. He is the one who will bring salvation to these lands."

And as soon as those words were spoken, the picture in front of me changed. I saw the main hall of the temple and the brazier again, and the flames that reached the ceiling of the room returned to their normal state.

S-salvation? Is he Azor Ahai? Was Melisandre wrong when she went to Dragonstone? Or is this "Solomon" someone else? Someone more important? And the Lord of Light called him a "Magician"...

I... I must go myself. I must see him with my own eyes.

- "High Priestess? What did our Lord tell you?" One of the priestesses asked.

I turned and looked at those present and took a very serious look.

- "Prepare the ship as soon as possible. I have to go to the North," I said and went to my room.

- "As you wish, High Priestess," came the reply.

But I paid no attention. I needed to prepare. I needed to find "Solomon."

-0-

Varys. King's Landing.

- "Your Majesty, are you listening?"

- "Yes, yes, eunuch," the king grumbled irritably, "There's a wizard in Winterfell, so what? Essos is full of them, isn't it? Or do you just want revenge on all the wizards for burning your cock?"

- "My personal dislike of magic has nothing to do with it, my lord," I shook my head, "The North started making and selling paper and glass."

- "And? Didn't that mean Ned finally had money?"

I sighed tiredly and adjusted my robe.

Ah. Robert Baratheon really leaves a lot to be desired as King of the Seven Kingdoms. When I had asked him to call a Small Council, arguing the news of the North, I had hoped he might connect the dots, or at least consider my words. But apparently my hopes were not realized. Again.

- "My lord," Littlefinger spoke up, "Varys meant to say that the North is beginning to gain strength. And that Eddard Stark might try to separate his holdings from the Seven Kingdoms."

Ah. The sly snake is trying to grease himself again. And the crown's debt just keeps getting bigger and bigger.

I'm perplexed. In the sincerest possible way. Why didn't anyone on the Small Council even think about where the debt of nearly six million gold dragons came from? Didn't anyone want to check on Littlefinger's affairs, given the fact that he was the Master of Coin?

That said... they clearly don't care about such a thing as the crown's debt.

Renly is a child in an adult body. He's too ambitious and frivolous. He's impulsive, too. He cares little where the money comes from, as long as it's there. And I doubt he's studied a single financial report. He's more interested in talking. Though I admit he's charismatic enough to listen to what comes out of his mouth.

Stannis Baratheon is a typical warlord. He doesn't really care about financial matters - just the navy and the soldiers. Though he does have a strong sense of duty and justice. There have been no large-scale battles in these years, which has discouraged him from diving into the study of papers. In addition, the red priestess on Dragonstone whispers words of salvation to him and has already converted him to her faith. But Stannis is a hard man who can't stand change, and I don't think he seriously believes in the Red God.

Pycelle is an actor who thinks he's fooled everyone. But my birds know everything. He's cowardly and helpless. He's willing to buckle under anyone if it keeps him alive. Although the number of chains on him exceeds one, I wouldn't call him a competent doctor. The position he holds, however, opens him up to a pretty wide range of possibilities. And Pycelle clearly doesn't know how to use it.

The only people on the Small Council I don't dislike are Barristan Selmy and Jon Arryn.

Ser Barristan has too much faith in the small council. He thinks everyone here is working for the good of the Seven Kingdoms. Unless he's rubbed in the dark, he'll remain an errand boy. I've given him a few hints, but they've all passed his ears. He's too blind to the darkness that dwells in King's Landing.

Ah. John Arryn. Prudent and trusting. So much so that he took my hints about the current king's children to heart. But unlike Ser Barristan, he listened to me and started digging. And he was even starting to get somewhere. As Hand of the King, he has to dig into the intricacies of the Seven Kingdoms. And now, he's delving into the dark side of the kingdom's capital. And it's not my clues that are leading him there, but his own prudence.

- "Bullshit! There's no way Ned would do that. Not even if that wizard in his castle whispered something to him," the king argued vehemently.

- "Pardon me, Your Majesty, but if the North continues at this rate, the balance of power in the Seven Kingdoms may be shaken," Pycelle interjected, "Glass is only made in Dorne and Essos. Both keep the method of making it secret. And paper, though common, the paper made in the North is whiter and less thick."

His Majesty hesitated and put his hand to his chin.

- "What do you think, John?" He asked John Arryn, after a while.

- "I suggest we wait it out. We know Ned well, and I doubt he'll do anything so drastic," he answered after a moment's thought and looked at me, "Varys, how many of your birds are in the North?"

- "Enough, Lord Hand," I bowed slightly.

- "Keep an eye out for messages from them. I want to know what's going on there."

- "Yes, my lord."

- "Well, now that we've made up our minds. The small council is dismissed," the king said, "All of you, get out of here! I need a drink."

A drink? Robert Baratheon hasn't had a drink since Lyanna Stark died. I wonder how long before the Seven Kingdoms become Six.

I grinned and went to my chambers.

-0-

Robb Stark. Winterfell.

Lord Solomon was wise. So it seemed to me as he told his stories to me and my siblings.

First he would share stories from his lands and then he would ask us what we thought of them.

The tale of the "married" swords awakened in us a strong interest in the myths and legends from Lord Solomon's lands. So strong, in fact, that we asked Father to set aside one day of the week to listen to them.

Father agreed, setting aside the dining room for the purpose, and later joined us himself. As did Mother with Ser Rodrik and Maester Luwin. Septa Mordain tried to prevent us, saying that what Lord Solomon was saying was heresy, but Father simply brushed it aside. He said they were just myths and legends and there was nothing wrong with them. What surprised me was that even my mother agreed. To which I received a judgmental look from the septa.

Realizing there was nothing she could do, she threatened that Seven would see it and punish us. And then she ignored everything to do with Lord Solomon.

And so, every seventh day of the week became an event for us to look forward to. And today he told us about the man who had been named "King of the Conquerors".

- "So, may I ask your opinion about the King of the Conquerors?" Lord Solomon asked with a soft smile.

There was silence in the hall for a while. As I pondered what I thought of the story, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that even little Arya was absorbed in my thoughts. And my father's smile stayed on his face until the end of the story. And he was the first to speak up.

- "I really liked his words "To conquer without destroying, to command without humiliating - that is the essence of conquest." I'd even swear allegiance to him."

- "What makes you think that...Ned? Doesn't conquest sound like evil?" Lord Solomon asked with some uncertainty.

Ned? Had he finally started addressing his father by his nickname?

I grinned.

Apparently Jon had lost me a few copper pennies.

- "Yes, he had. But conquest, like war, is common and sometimes necessary. Lack of land for one's people or some other circumstance may force one to do just that if there is no other option. But I like the way this man feels about conquest. What do you think, Maester Luwin?"

- "You're right, Lord Stark. Circumstances can vary. Take the Greyjoys, for example. Though they're disliked for their activities, they have no other choice. The Iron Islands are not known for their fertility and mines. So they have to pillage and pirate," Maester Luwin nodded, "The man said that every land he conquered could assimilate into his empire and become part of it, preserving itself and its culture. Without any infringement of rights or the like. And that every warrior from that land could be the one to conquer the next. Warrior respect, I would say."

- "And unfortunately, the people of the Iron Islands are not as wise as he is," Father sighed.

- "Lord Solomon," the mother said, "You mentioned that there were women in his army, didn't you? Weren't his subjects against the idea?"

- "You're right, Lady Stark. Alexander believed that gender did not matter, only skill," Lord Solomon explained, "But there were very few of them, because someone had to give birth to new ones. And in his army he took only those who could not do it for one reason or another."

- "You mean I could join?!" shrieked a surprised Arya. To which she received a hard stare from her mother.

- "In theory."

- "I see," she said in a calmer tone.

- "Were there maguses in his army?" Jon asked.

- "There were. But you must realize that magic is a dangerous thing, and that the spells could affect their own. That's why Alexander used them with caution."

Jon nodded and fell silent, having gotten an answer to his question.

Magic. I saw Jon scream when Lord Solomon used the ritual. And I immediately felt uneasy. As it was explained to me, it was something everyone who wanted to practice magic went through. To be in so much pain that every time you make a mistake, you die? I wouldn't do that. Once, I even got to see Jon's hand almost turn to mush when he cast a spell incorrectly.

Of everyone present, only Sansa, Bran, and Ser Rodrik had not spoken.

Sansa's eyes never left Lord Solomon's face. Well, she's obviously in love. And I don't think she remembered anything.

Bran was more attracted to magic and mysticism, but he listened intently.

And Ser Rodrik was most likely interested in the armament of the Conqueror King's army and the skills of his warriors.

- "Was the Conquest really necessary?" I asked, thinking over my question.

- "Like your father said, sometimes circumstances force you to do just that. The Conqueror King began his journey as a boy. Childish and overconfident. But along the way, he learned about himself. He changed and became the man I have told you about today," Lord Solomon replied, and then turned his gaze to all those present, "What conclusion can be drawn from this story?"

The whole room fell into silence. And so it went on for about three minutes. Until Jon spoke up.

- "It's the journey that counts, right? Not just the end."

- "That's right. What's the point of the end if you haven't grown along the way?" Lord Solomon replied, and a kind smile appeared on his face.

I... understand. Lord Solomon is wise. And he shares that wisdom with us. With me. For which I am grateful.

And I hope I can repay that debt in full. When I grow up, following his advice.

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
My P.a.t.r.e.o.n: P.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m/mirzael
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[mirzael]

Solomon. Winterfell.
Six months later.

A light odor of dust and old age tickled my sense of smell. Winterfell's library was quite extensive. Certainly, considering the age of this world. Books were present, yes, but most of it was scrolls of parchment. And it cost a lot of money. And to create it in sufficient quantities would require slaughtering entire herds, because it was made from the skin of animals. And the process of making it is quite labor intensive. That's the very reason why I shared the technology of paper production.

In addition, it would increase the knowledge of the population. Of course, I don't expect this to happen soon, but the process is underway. Right now, paper is only made in Winterfell, but eventually every lord of this land will start making it themselves in their own castle. And they will start doing it, as spies are everywhere. Ned understands this as well and right now he is maximizing the benefits of having a monopoly on it with a few hints from my words.

I shared the glass technology for one reason only - money. All the sand that was left in the mines before my arrival was now being shipped to Winterfell. It is already being made in Westeros, but my method has a faster production speed and better quality. To be more precise, the Crown Method or the Lunar Method.

And now, sitting in the library, I was studying a very interesting topic, Valyria. an ancient state on the mainland of Essos, home of the Targaryens. Valyria was the dominant power of its time both militarily and culturally. With the help of dragons and, if the texts are to be believed, magic, the Valyrians subjugated much of the continent. Which I don't doubt, but I was particularly interested in one event that ended it - the Doom of Valyria.

Earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and tsunamis suddenly raged across the lands of Valyria. And it raises questions. Natural disasters that struck at the same time? Highly questionable.

Flipping through Solomon and Romani's memories, I found a possible cause for this event. The worlds are different, but the mechanisms must be similar.

Alaya, Humanity's Unconscious Will to survive, and Gaia, the planet's will to survive and thrive.

Most likely it was these two entities that had a hand in the Doom of Valyria, but which one? That's not important, though. What mattered was that Valyria was somehow threatening either the planet itself or the survival of humanity.

I frowned. That's troubling. But there must be some traces left there. And apparently I'll have to add another destination to my journey.

Returning to studying the texts, I managed to hear footsteps heading in my direction. And a few seconds later, Ser Rodrik appeared at the entrance to the library.

- "Lord Solomon, are you free?" He asked, and when he saw that I was surrounded by books and parchments, he shook his head, "Apparently not."

- "It's all right, Ser Rodrik. I can be distracted," I said and put away the book I was holding, "What can I do for you?"

- "There's a woman standing outside. And she wants to see you."

- "A woman?" I raised an eyebrow, "And you're sure it's me she wants to see?"

- "Yes, I'm sure. She said she was looking for Solomon, the Magician," Ser Rodrik said and shrugged, "Shall I send her away?"

The Magician? Well, it's clear she's looking for me. But why? The only people who know about the term are those who live in the castle itself....

Oh? So he sent her? How interesting.

- "No need, Ser Rodrik. Please take me to her. I think I know why she's looking for me," I shook my head and stood up.

- "Of course. Follow me."

And we set off toward the woman. A few minutes later, our duo reached the castle gates. There, near the guards, stood a female figure, wearing scarlet robes and a hooded cloak over her head. But the clothes could not hide her... virtues. A pair of guards gazed lustfully at her figure, which the robes could not hide.

The next moment, I felt the intense gaze from under the hood on me from the woman's side. In it, I felt the same lust that the woman was receiving in the guards' gazes, as well as shock, joy, excitement, recognition, happiness, and awe. Exactly in that order. And so many emotions from one single look surprised me.

As I approached the gate, with Ser Rodrik standing just behind me, the woman fell to her knees before me. No, she didn't. She knelt, even though it was muddy and slushy. And she did it with quick, practiced movements without a single drop of shame or doubt. My eyebrow went up in an incomprehensible gesture. And Ser Rodrik froze in a deep state of shock, shifting his gaze back and forth between me and the woman.

- "You must not kneel before a stranger, my lady. Please stand," I said softly, and lowered myself.

But the woman was still silent, and her gaze never left the ground she was staring at.

- "Milady?" I called out to her and touched the woman's shoulder.

And the next moment, I had a lot of pictures flashing before me. Pictures of the future. My Clairvoyance activated on a whim and showed me events waiting to happen.

I saw Ned's death and Winterfell burning. I saw three dragons and a young girl emerging from the fire without any burns. I saw the White Walkers. A whole army of dead men with bright shining blue eyes. And I saw Jon...wearing black robes and a sword with a hilt in the shape of a bear.

And then, there was a picture that was kind of blurry and fuzzy. In it, I was standing on the Wall of Ice and looking down, and in front of it, where the White Walkers were, a whole cataclysm had erupted. Giant magic circles shone with blinding light, sending firestorms, creating storms of ice and snow, tearing up the ground and ripping trees from their roots. Lightning bolts fell from the heavens and obsidian spikes came out of the ground, destroying every dead person.

When the visions ended and I started to pull my hand away, the woman looked up sharply and grabbed my hand. Looking into her eyes, I saw... worship. The strongest worship possible.

- "King of Magic," she muttered, and her eyes began to water.

My eyes widened in surprise.

- "Wise King of Israel," she continued, tightening her grip even more.

The leads were mutual, weren't they?

- "The bearer of the Ten Rings," the woman's whole body trembled, "Solomon."

And as she said my name, she fainted. I stopped her body from falling, lifting it into the air.

How... interesting.

- "Lord Solomon? Are you all right?" Ser Rodrik asked, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

- "I'm fine," I nodded, turning and heading for my room, "I'll take care of her."

- "Should I tell Lord Stark?" he asked hesitantly.

- "Yes. But I'd rather not be disturbed until I've spoken to the woman."

- "Of course," Ser Rodrik agreed, "She's a sorceress, isn't she? Although, judging by the color of her clothes, a red priestess. Should I be worried? And the rest of the castle. I've heard horror stories about them burning people alive."

- "You shouldn't," I answered without turning and shook my head, "I won't let it happen, Ser Rodrik. Trust me."

- "All right," he sighed tiredly and strode away, "I hope Winterfell doesn't turn into a giant bonfire."

- "It won't, Ser Rodrik. Not on my watch," I told him goodbye.

-0-

A short time later.

When the woman woke up, she jumped out of bed quickly, her eyes wide open. She looked around and, finding me with her gaze, instantly fell to her knees. Again.

- "Milady?" I asked and a crooked smile appeared on my face, "May I ask why you are acting... like this?"

To which she bowed her head even lower, bringing her face close to my feet.

- "My king. Kinvara has come to serve you," she said and... kissed my feet.

I... I didn't know what to say. It was new to me. It had never happened even to Solomon himself.

- "Lady Kinvara, please stop and explain to me your... unusual behavior," I grabbed her shoulders and lifted her up, awkwardly saying.

- "You can just call me Kinvara, my king," a happy smile appeared on her face, "Or any other name you give me. My body, heart and soul belong to you completely. I am willing to be your maid or mistress, or even your slave. I will clean your night potty. I-"

- "Please stop, mila...."

- "Kinvara, my king. Just "Kinvara," she interrupted me. To which my eyebrow went up in bewilderment.

- "Okay... Kinvara," I sighed tiredly, "Now, explain to me why you are acting like this."

- "As you command, my king," she nodded and, straightening her back, began to explain, "I was sent by the Lord of Light, R'Glor. And he contacted me personally, which has never happened before. At first I didn't understand the Lord's actions, but now that I've met you in person, I understand why. You are a light from another world. You are the one who will bring salvation. And you are the one who will lead the people of Westeros into the next age. The Age of Man."

- "You've had visions too, haven't you, Kinvara? The Age of Man is not what is known in this world."

- "You are right, my king."

- "And you offer all of yourself to me, but do you not serve R'Glor?" I asked with interest.

- "The Lord of Light is wise, as you are, Wise King of Israel. He realizes that his time is also coming to an end. You have seen pictures of the future, haven't you?" She asked, to which I nodded briefly, "Once the Great Other falls by your hand, the Lord's mission will be accomplished. And he will retire, not worrying about the fate of the world, because now there is you. "The time of farewell has come. He is the one who conquers all, isn't it?"

Did she... Did she just recite my Noble Phantasm's activation aria? That's... weird.

- "Wouldn't you be sad to see your God go?"

- "It's a given, my king. Where there is light, there is darkness. And the Lord of Light understands that. He will leave so that the Great Other will never return, leaving the people to fend for themselves. And that will mark the end of the Age of the Gods. The one we all thought was long gone," Kinvara said with steely certainty, staring at me with her unblinking eyes.

During my "conversation" with R'Glor, I couldn't make any sense of it. We didn't really talk at all after we introduced ourselves. We each just stared into each other's eyes for half an hour.

Whoa, though. During that time, my rings flashed once. Did that solve anything? I...I don't know what to think.

- "I... understand," I sighed and rubbed my temples, "What about the adherents of his faith? What about them?"

- "You don't need to worry about that," Kinvara said with a wave of her hand, "I'm sure the Lord of Light has already notified his followers about you. Besides, what they see, he sees. Anyone who believes in the Lord will be willing to give their all to help you, my king."

At those words, she moved even closer to me than she had been.

- "Especially me," Kinvara whispered in a seductive tone, "Any time. Anywhere."

I just rubbed my face tiredly with the palm of my hand and sat back in my chair. Kinvara is a pure fanatic. Even if I tell her to throw herself off the cliff, she won't even ask me why. She'll just jump without a shadow of a doubt.

- "Okay," I said resignedly, and looked at her, "So I'm Azor Ahai?"

- "No," she said flatly.

- "No?" I raised an eyebrow, "Isn't Azor Ahai the legendary hero who will save the world from the White Walkers? As far as I understand from your words, he is me."

- "I apologize for not being more specific. Please forgive me for my mistake," she panicked, waving her hands and bowing in an apologetic gesture.

- "Just... explain."

- "You are not Azor Ahai. You are more than him. Where he can defeat the Great Other only temporarily, you, my king, are capable of banishing him once and for all."

I wondered. As I understood it, the White Walkers were analogous to the Beasts of Solomon's World, whose purpose was to destroy all of humanity. But then why did R'Glor give me a similar feeling? Is he a Beast as well? There is no point in asking Kinvara that question. She will not answer me. She just can't. It's all so... confusing.

- "The texts say that the followers of the Red Faith are looking for this Azor Ahai," I said thoughtfully, "What will happen to him now?"

- "He is still important," Kinvara nodded, "But not as important as you are. Now that you've come here, to this world, he's gone from being the primary plan to a backup plan."

- "I would like to hear the wording."

- "Azor Ahai will be reborn to awaken the dragons from the stone and forge anew the great sword, the Lightbringer. The one that defeated the darkness many thousands of years ago. If the tales are true, the terrible sword was tempered with living blood from the heart of a loving wife," she quoted and looked at me. I nodded briefly and thought for a moment, "I think you already have a guess as to who it is, right my king?"

I nodded once more. There were two options. Either Jon. Or the girl with the three dragons that I had seen with my Clairvoyance.

The vision where the girl was had dragons and fire. Metaphorically you could say she was reborn when she came out of the flames. So I'm inclined to believe it was her.

Jon is more complicated. He had the sword, but that's about it. However, his threads of destiny say otherwise. He will play an important role in all of this, of that I have no doubt. But how exactly?

- "Very well. Let's put that aside for now," I sighed and looked at Kinvara, "Tell me, what do you know about Doom of Valyria?"

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
My P.a.t.r.e.o.n: P.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m/mirzael
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[mirzael]

Eddard Stark. Winterfell.

I stood in the crypt and stared at the statue of Lyanna, remembering what had happened in the last year and a half.
Solomon's arrival had been a boon to Winterfell. Especially for the Stark family.

Every member of the family has taken a liking to him. And my children adored him. It wasn't just his looks and kindness, but the stories he told. They were exciting, fascinating, and sometimes - funny and confusing. But the most important thing followed them when Solomon asked for their opinions about them.

He made them ponder and come to conclusions they would not have come to for a long time. He was making them...mature while still retaining their childlike enthusiasm.

I saw with my own eyes how their view of the world and their actions changed. But the most important lesson they learned was to be themselves, not like someone else. Solomon made them seek their own path in life. Which I'm so glad they did.

Robb was especially affected. As heir to Winterfell, he'll have a huge burden on his shoulders, and a lot of people's lives will depend on his decisions. But he tried to emulate me time and time again. He tried to be me. Now, Robb was different. He wasn't trying to remember my every action, he was analyzing them, evaluating them from the outside. Which made me proud.

Sansa has obviously fallen in love with Solomon. I'm not surprised. His looks and character kind of lend themselves to that. And because of the story, she listened with half an ear, admiring his face, but she listened nonetheless. She realized that the world wasn't as beautiful as she'd thought it was before. And drop by drop her naivety evaporated, revealing to her a truer picture. Now Sansa devotes her time not only to lady etiquette and embroidery, but also to politics and its intricacies. I even saw her ask Kat something once and scrutinize her reaction to her words, i.e. facial expressions and body language.

Arya and Bran just marveled at the stories and outwardly showed no change. But they are changing. That much I'm sure of. And Rickon is still too young for all of this.

Solomon was also able to affect Cat in the same way. Her discontent with Jon didn't disappear, but it subsided. She no longer looked at him as a "fruit of sin" that should be gotten rid of immediately, but simply as an unpleasant boy, causing a slight undercurrent of dislike.

And Jon... Jon saw Solomon as a King. A king and a father. If he had a problem, he turned to him for help first, which made me a little jealous. But I was happy for Jon. He had found in the figure of Solomon the father he had never seen.

The next moment my hearing caught footsteps in my direction. And they belonged to Sir Rodrik, who appeared in the crypt a few seconds later.

- "Lord Stark," he greeted me and bowed slightly, "I think you'll be interested in the news."

- "News? What is it, Sir Rodrik?"

- "A woman, a Red Priestess by the way she was dressed, visited the castle. And she was looking for Lord Solomon."

- "The Red Priestess? Why would she be looking for him? Especially here in the North. That's very strange. In the lands of Westeros, the Red Faith isn't exactly widespread. The only region it dominates is Dragonstone, ruled by Stannis Baratheon. And that's where the only Red priestess I know of was stationed."

- "I have no idea, My Lord. But you'll be interested to hear what she called Lord Solomon. And from the look on his face when he heard them, she was never wrong."

- "Оh?" I marveled and was intrigued, "So what did she call him?"

- "If memory serves me correctly... King of Magic...."

King of Magic? I think that might well describe his magical abilities.

- "Bearer of the Ten Rings."

Well, he's wearing more than ten rings.

- "Wise King of Israel."

When the last title came out of Sir Rodrik's mouth, I froze.

The word 'Wise' I could understand. He was indeed wise, even if outwardly he looked about twenty-five years old. And in one of the stories, Solomon mentioned that "Israel" was one of the countries in the lands he came from. I can understand that, too.

But "king"?! That means the "king," isn't it?! Solomon ruled a country?! H-how?! Why didn't he say anything?!

Now I can see why he has knowledge of politics, etiquette, and conducting conversations, and his movements are so regal and refined....

- "He's been a damn king all this time!" I shouted, and my voice echoed in the crypt, "Solomon ruled an entire country and didn't see fit to mention it! A traveling Magician, for fuck's sake!"

Calming down, I looked at the only person in the crypt who had heard my shout and saw him laughing madly upon seeing my reaction to his words.

- "Hahahahahahaha..." Sir Rodrik managed to squeeze out a laugh while holding his stomach, "Your reaction is priceless!"

- "Are you kidding me, Sir Rodrik?!" My emotions returned, "I had a bloody king living in my castle and no one had a clue! How am I supposed to react to this?! How will Robert react when he finds out about this?!"

And I do worry about that. If Robert finds out about the other king, what will he think? Or rather, what will the other lords think? A new war?! North against all?! I don't want that, damn it!

- "Calm down, my lord," he said, somewhat calmly, "Let's just ask Lord Solomon personally. Besides, I don't think he thinks it's a big deal."

- "Let's do it!" I said, still emotional, and headed for the exit. Sir Rodrik followed me.

The Wise King of Israel has some explaining to do.

-0-

Kinvara. Winterfell.

While my king mulled over my tale of the Doom of Valyria, I stood behind his shoulder and chuckled softly, remembering the reaction to me.

My first impression was that he was incredibly handsome, which sent a wave of heat and attraction through my body.

And when my gaze met his still at the gates of Winterfell, it was as if a mountain of magical energy had descended upon me.

To ordinary people without a gift for the magical arts, my king looked like an ordinary man, albeit with an otherworldly appearance. But for someone like me, it was different. I saw him as the sun. Huge and warm and shining brightly.

And it was then that it became clear to me why the Lord of Light wanted me to find this man.

Shock, and then joy and excitement filled my mind at being able to find the true Azor Ahai, the savior of mankind from the Great Other. At last the darkness would recede and the light would triumph again.

And when he approached me, I did not hesitate to kneel before him. My heart fluttered in his presence in such a way that I could not even hear his words.

But what happened next was something that I am sure even the Lord of Light himself did not expect. When his hand touched my shoulder, visions of both the future and the past arose in my mind. His past.

-0-

Flashback.

I was on some hill in a land that looked like Essos. And ten paces away from me stood he, my king, staring at something below. As I approached the edge, a city appeared before my eyes. More precisely, the process of its construction.

- "Israel..." something told me the name of this land. A land too far from Westeros to reach, "The Wise King of Israel...."

And in the next second, the picture before me began to change, and the city that had just begun to be built filled with buildings and people in a matter of seconds. And in its center stood a huge temple, which could be mistaken for a palace.

Then the picture changed, and I found myself in the middle of a room with a huge bed on which lay a young man, a younger version of my king. The next moment a glowing figure appeared at its end.

- "God..." I whispered. My heart was racing in my chest, and my eyes refused to blink so I wouldn't miss a second of what I was looking at.

The intensity of the light woke him up. Waking up and seeing the figure, his eyes widened.

- "Is this... is this a dream?" My king asked.

- "No, my child... It is not a dream." The light answered. His voice was gentle and soothing, but with strength and authority.

Which was so like the Lord of Light when I spoke to him six months ago. But... But this glowing figure was stronger. Much stronger than the Lord. And I... I didn't know what to think about that.

- "I am at your service, Lord." bowed my king's head.

- "Calm yourself, child, no need for formalities." said the figure.

- "What can I do for you, my Lord?"

- "You, my son, are worthy. Tell me your wishes. And I will fulfill them."

My king answered without a second's hesitation. Calmly and clearly.

- "You were faithful in your great and steadfast love for my father David. And you made me king after him. May the promise You made to my father David be fulfilled, O Lord God. You have made me king over a people as innumerable as the sand; now give me wisdom and knowledge, that I may go ahead of this people, to lead them and guide them. For who is able to rule so great a people of Thy?"

- "Because you longed for this in your heart, and did not ask for riches or other earthly goods, nor for fame, nor for the death of your enemies, nor even for longevity, but asked only for wisdom and knowledge to rule over my people, over whom I have made you king, for this both wisdom and knowledge will be given to you. And I will also give you riches, goods of the earth, and glory such as no king has ever possessed before, and no king after you will ever possess," the voice answered contentedly, "You are truly worthy... Rest, Solomon, son of David."
And when the light spoke the last words, it disappeared and my king fell into bed. But my eyes could see the ten rings shining brightly on his fingers.

- "The bearer of the ten rings..." I muttered, looking at it. Once again, information I had no way of knowing went through my head and made me realize what my eyes had seen.

Lord Solomon received them from God for his wisdom. For his worthiness.

Then the picture changed again.

The figure of my king stood alone on a table in the middle of the desert. And then, he began to sing arias.

And suddenly, dozens of circles of light with an emblem on them appeared in the sky, causing destruction around my king.

Wind, lightning, fire, ice and other elements began to destroy everything, coming out of the circles. And their numbers increased and increased.
My hair and clothes were fluttering from the strong wind. But I wasn't paying attention to it. My body just refused to obey me and forced me to watch this destruction in its purest form.

- "Amazing..." I whispered.

When the magical bombardment finally stopped, the once peaceful desert turned into an inferno. Huge holes and cuts split the ground. Flames burned what they could not burn. Ice covered the land when it shouldn't have. And hurricanes swirled around the lone figure, threatening to take everything away.

A satisfied smile appeared on my king's face. He waved his hand and it all disappeared. It was as if hell had not unfolded in the middle of the desert a moment ago.

- "King of Magic..." again something told me what I was seeing.

Was it all an illusion? No. I could feel the heat and cold that this inferno was emitting. It wasn't an illusion... Then, how did it all disappear with just one wave of my hand?

My mind just couldn't comprehend it...

And then I was back on the hill, where my king was still standing there, looking at the city below.

It... it was so breathtaking. He wasn't Azor Ahai. No, no, no. He was big... In Westeros, he was... a God... Perhaps even more powerful than the Lord of Light himself....

And as I wondered how I could escape these visions, my ears caught the words.

- "Help him. Give him the support I never had. And let him be himself."

Turning sharply toward the edge, so sharply that I thought I heard my neck crunch, my eyes saw Lord Solomon looking straight at me.

H-how is that possible?! These are visions, pictures of the past! Why is he looking directly at me?!

My heart sank with shock and fear. But still I wanted to get closer to him and ask him why he could see me, and why I was seeing all this, but... my body refused to obey me. And realizing that I could still speak, I tried to ask him a question.

- "What are you-" But before I could finish, he waved his hand, and I was thrown out of my visions, back to the gates of Winterfell.

A sudden rush of exhaustion filled my body and mind. And unable to bear it, I passed out. And the sad smile of the man from the visions remained in my mind.

End of flashback.

-0-

Ah... It was so exciting...

I furtively looked at my king and smiled softly.

"Help him. Become the support for him that I didn't have. And let him be himself, right?"

Help him? Become a pillar? Let him be himself? The words are as vague as the rest of the prophecy. But... But I will fulfill this mission, even if it's the last thing I do in my life.

- "Hm? Kinvara?" - Apparently noticing my gaze, my king asked and raised his head, "Is something wrong? And you're smiling strangely."

- "Nothing, my king. I'm just happy that I can be of service to you," I replied, still with a smile on my face.

- Fine," he shrugged and went back to thinking.

Yes. I'll do it, whatever it takes.

-0-

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[mirzael]

Solomon. Winterfell.

Suddenly Ned, Sir Rodrik, and Lady Stark burst into my room, nearly knocking the door off its hinges. And their expressions were... interesting: Ned's was irritable, Sir Rodrik's was cheerful, and Lady Stark's was perplexed.

- "What's the matter, Ned?" I asked, looking around at my guests, "Have I done something to displease you?"

- "Oh, it's all right," he started, and then pointed his finger at me and shrieked, "Except for the fact that you're the bloody king!"

Hmm? What's he talking about... Oh, that's right... Solomon ruled the country....

- "W-what?! K- King?!" Lady Stark staggered back, surprised beyond belief, "What do you mean, Ned?!"

- "If I may, my lady," Sir Rodrik intervened with a cheerful smile on his face, "Lord Solomon, King Solomon to be exact, ruled the country he mentioned at one of the soirees, Israel."

Lady Stark's eyes widened and her mouth took on an oval shape. Her gaze darted between Ned and me, as if asking if what he was saying was true. But after a few seconds, she took a deep breath and calmed down, regaining her stately appearance. Her voice was still trembling, though.

- "Then why didn't you mention it, Your Majesty?" She asked cautiously.

- "Yes, Your Majesty, why?" Ned added, uncharacteristically sarcastic.

- "Have I forgotten?" I replied, rubbing my chin and thinking, "Besides, there is no need for all these formalities. I suggest we forget this fact, as I don't think it's important."

And these were my sincere thoughts. After all, Israel, as well as the Earth as a whole, is in another dimension and has become unreachable. Sort of....

- "Not important?! Do you have any idea what will happen if this information gets out?!" Ned shouted with burning eyes.

- "You don't have to worry about that. I'm not king anymore, and Israel is ruled by others chosen by the people, and my name is just an echo of the past that has become a myth," I said in a soothing tone, "Besides, if war breaks out and you are forced to fight, I will help you."

He was silent for a moment, pondering my words. Sir Rodrik and Lady Stark waited in silence for his conclusions.

- "Take my king's words to heart, Lord Stark," said Kinvara, who had been silent until then, "If my king sides with you, even the combined armies of the Seven Kingdoms will be unable to do anything."

- "And you?" Lady Stark asked, glancing at Kinvara.

- "Kinvara, My Lady. A humble Sirvant of my king," she introduced herself with pride in her voice and bowed.

The next moment Ned came out of his musings, apparently noticing something.

- "You said "myth," didn't you? What did you mean?" - He asked with a puzzled look on his face, "And why is this woman calling you "my king"?"

I sighed, foreshadowing a long conversation, and waved my hand, producing several chairs.

- "Have a seat. Explanation will take time."

-0-

A short while later.

The room fell into silence. First I waited for about a minute, and then I created a table between us with glasses of wine on it, and, taking one of them, took a sip. And the silence went on for about ten minutes.

Ned, Sir Rodrik, and Lady Stark were staring at me in silence, their eyes not even blinking. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that the only one in the room who was amused was Kinvara, She puffed up her chest proudly and looked at them as if they were fools who couldn't see the obvious, to which I raised an eyebrow.

- "So, you are somewhat... immortal, right? And you're also one of the heroes of antiquity, right?" Ned asked, looking at me with lifeless eyes and not moving like a robot.

I nodded briefly.

Well, I couldn't blame him for having those thoughts. This world is not under Akasha's jurisdiction, which means the concept of the Root and Throne of Heroes is foreign to every local inhabitant. To them, Heroic souls are akin to gods themselves. Especially with the level of power they possess.

Take Gilgamesh, for example. Given the level of this world, both magic and development, just one use of his Noble Phantasm would be enough for him. And he's not even a Grand Servant like King Hassan or Solomon, which is me.

And immortality... Possessing the Touch of Heaven makes its owner immortal, as he gains the ability to manipulate the soul itself, something even the gods from my original world are incapable of.

- "That's... hard to accept," Ned muttered, clutching his head, "I just don't know what I'm supposed to be thinking right now... The very thought of it all just doesn't settle in my head...."

Sir Rodrik stood beside him and patted him on the shoulder in a comforting gesture, and Lady Stark... she still hadn't come to her senses.

- "Will you allow me to speak, Lord Stark?" Kinvara asked, to which she received an approving nod, "If you are worried about possible rumors, the red priestesses and priests are at your service."

- "What do you mean, Lady Kinvara?" Lady Stark asked, coming to her senses.

- "She proposes to control the flow of information," I said, "Rumors can be controlled if you have the right people. If you distribute them among the major cities, which are the centers of information and rumors, as well as all the traders and travelers, it is possible to control the flow of information throughout the Seven Kingdoms."

- "It's just as my King said. Plus, we have impressive persuasion skills. Crowds will listen to what we say, and we will speak sincerely, which will add credibility to our words. And light hypnosis will only make it easier, as most of the population does not have strong mental defenses. And all that is necessary is to send red priests and priestesses to the cities."

- "As I recall, the Red Faith is not well-liked in Westeros, and there are very few people who follow it," Ned said in an analytical tone.

- "That's true," Kinvara nodded and continued, "But I didn't say I'd limit myself to them. We will send every man of our faith who can speak and persuade from all over Essos. And since it won't be their job to spread the Red Faith, it won't be hard to get into Westeros without arousing suspicion."

- "But... It's dishonorable..." Ned muttered.

I sighed.

As said before, he is too fair and honest. Ned realizes that there has always been and will always be manipulation and intrigue, but he doesn't realize that other lords won't be as fair and honest as he is. The North's biggest flaw is the lack of spies and control of information in the land. Which means no one knows who is lurking in the shadows and watching.

- "Listen, Ned. You yourself realize that the others are not like you. They'll use every bit of information to gain an advantage. And the fact that you don't have your own network of informants is a very big disadvantage. But I don't blame you, as the North has always been different from the South. The first people, whose ancestors are from the North, valued valor and honor. But... I'm sorry to say this, but both valor and honor don't keep you alive when you're stabbed in the back. They only work when you're strong enough to ignore lies and betrayal. And you don't have that strength, Ned."

I took a sip of wine to wet my throat and continued.

- "The only reason you've managed to last this long is the distance between the North and the South. The lords of the South are boiling in their own cauldron and don't think much of you, since they know you're... 'you'. They don't expect you to cheat or anything like that, simply because it's not in your character. And that's your biggest advantage."

- "Advantage?" He asked.

- "Since espionage and intrigue are not what's expected of you, they won't test you. Suppose you send a hundred men to set up a spy network, and they all go at the same time. The Southerners will know about it, of course, since they have their people here at Winterfell, but will they pay attention to it? No. There will be a check, but only a primary one, that is, without any in-depth analysis," I finished and turned to Lady Stark, "Besides, my lady, you probably remember how you were abruptly taken to your room or somewhere else when some stranger came in and wanted to talk to your father, and the subject changed, right?"

- "Come to think of it..." she hesitated and tilted her head to the side, "It did happen..."

Ned looked at her, then at me, considering his wife's answer and my words. Then he sighed defeatedly.

- "I... understand... Then what should I do? I don't know about all this...."

Good. He learns and he learns. And Ned finally realized that by doing what he was doing, he was one foot in the grave, just like in my vision. All we have to do is teach him to be stealthy and cautious. And perhaps he will become the most prominent Lord of the North in its history, if he listens to my advice and keeps his urges for honor under control.

- "It's easier than you think, Lord Stark," Kinvara said again, "To see the whole picture and know what's going on in the North, you need only take control of three types of establishments: markets, brothels, and taverns. They are where everyone spends their time, both those loyal to you and those not so loyal. That's where all the information flows, and that's where you can share it without arousing suspicion."

- "Lady Kinvara is right, my lord," Sir Rodrik interjected, "There are a lot of people in these places all the time. Lord Solomon is right, too, even if I'm not as enthusiastic about it as you are. Better to be prepared and know what's going on than to rely on other lords being as honest as you are."

Ned was silent. Silent for a long time.

Understandable. He's going through an identity crisis. My words challenged his ideals and made him see their flaws. And Ned didn't see them, even though they were right in front of his nose.

However, distance wasn't the only reason why he lasted so long without much trouble. The second reason, and perhaps the most important, is the fact that the King of Westeros is his close friend. But what happens when Robert Baratheon dies? The dogs will be down on him. And when Ned dies, on his children.

Which I can't allow. Not after the time I've spent with them.

- "Kinvara, R'Glor sees what you see right?" I asked her while Ned was still not finished.

- "Yes, my king."

I created seven small earrings with an inlaid ruby in each and gave them to Kinvara.

- "I want information network strongholds set up in King's Landing, Oldtown, Lannisport, Gulltown, White Harbor, and Braavos. Have R'Glor select suitable people to fill the leadership positions of each of them in those cities. And when the names of these people are known, name them and throw one earring for each into the fire. That way they can retrieve them through the same fire on their side. And keep one for yourself."

- "What do they do?"

- "A means of communication. You press a ruby, then say the name to which the other stone is attached, and a link is established between them, through which they can talk regardless of distance. Rubies will only work on the people they are attached to. Changes can be made by me or by R'Glor himself."

- "I understand," she nodded and tucked the earrings into the pocket of her robes, "As soon as the Lord of Light chooses the people, I will send them out at once."

I nodded.

As far as I know, they followers of the Red Faith cannot communicate with each other through fire, only with R'Glor himself. And this method of communication will come in handy. Even in this age, information is the most important resource, and whoever controls it essentially owns the world.

And I'm sure R'Glor will do as I say. I have no idea how, but I KNOW he will.

I have a hunch, though. After thinking about it for a bit, I realized that R'Glor looks more like a demon of the seventy-two Pillars than a Beast. And it was likely that my Power as Solomon had made him my familiar to some extent, as it did with the demons.

- "I've made up my mind," Ned said in a tired tone, but his eyes burned with determination, "I'll do it. But I'll need support."

- "You'll get it."

- "All right," he nodded and stood up, "I need to visit the crypt... get used to the idea, so to speak."

At those words, he left the room, followed by Sir Rodrik. Lady Stark was about to leave when I called out to her.

- "Lady Stark, think about what I said to Ned, and don't trust those who are too friendly with you."

- "What do you mean, Lord Solomon?" She asked incomprehensively.

- "Such behavior is only characteristic of those who want to gain some advantage from you. It is human nature."

- "What are you implying?"

- "The possible danger to your family. Remember, you're the Lady of Winterfell, and any information you carelessly share could play tricks on you."

- "I don't know what you mean, but thank you for the warning," she said and left the room.

I sighed and rubbed my temples.

- "She's too narrow-minded for Lady Winterfell," Kinvara said.

- "She's a typical southerner. She was raised just to marry. And unfortunately, Catelyn Stark doesn't realize the gravity of her position. She's second in the chain of command to Ned, and the most important part of her duties eludes her," I said, and the table, chairs, and glasses disappeared, "And so you will have to take care of it."

- "My king?"

- "I want you to show her what opportunities are in her hands, by hints or direct text, it doesn't matter."

- "Why me, my king?"

- "I will be leaving Winterfell in six months," I stood up and walked to the window in the room, "I need to check out a possible candidate for Azor Ahai."

- "I'm not coming with you?" Kinvara's body trembled at the suddenness of the news.

- "No. At least not at first. And you'll be needed here. Ned doesn't know the first thing about shady business, and Catelyn needs to learn. I'll come back for you when the time is right."

- "I understand, my king," she bowed, "I will not fail you."

I nodded and looked outside where Jon was sparring with Robb on wooden swords.

So far, so good. Jon's role in the fate of this world is unknown, and I need to study the dragon girl. And then I'll make plans for what I learn.
Anyway, what story to tell them this time?

I think Siegfried will do....

-0-

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[mirzael]

Eddard Stark. Winterfell.

I, Solomon, Lady Kinvara, and the entire Stark family stood in the castle courtyard and looked out over the small arena where Robb and Jon were. They looked at each other, standing up and pointing their weapons towards their opponent, and their eyes burned with eagerness, and a slight smile was present on their faces as if to greet their eternal rival.

It would have been a normal sparring session, like any other day, if not for one important detail.

- "Solomon, are you sure about this?" I asked with a troubled heart, "Do they really need real swords for normal sparring?"

- "They could kill each other! Or become crippled!" Cat added furiously with her hands trembling with excitement, directing a strong glare at Solomon.

The children, on the other hand, just stared and said nothing. But I could feel their confidence in their brothers and... in Solomon. As if he couldn't be wrong at all. It's... depressing.

- "I'm sure. And rest assured, Lady Stark, they will do neither." Solomon said in a measured tone.

- "How can you be so sure?!" Cat shrieked.

- "They are brothers, even if you don't want to admit it," he answered, and she froze. And so am I, "Jon and Robb will fight anything they can. Not to kill or maim, but to prove themselves to us, and to each other. It's a rivalry born of love for family. A desire to show how much they're willing to give of themselves to protect it."

- "But... why do you need real swords?" I asked, still not understanding the reason for Solomon's decision.

- "Ned, what do you think is the greatest sign of trust in another person?" He asked without turning his head.

The greatest sign of trust? The answer is obvious.

- "Life," I answered confidently, "Both my own and my family's. But what..."

Then I fell silent as realization flooded my mind. Understanding why Solomon had insisted on real swords. Both Jon and Robb trust each other enough to be willing to put their lives on the line by pointing an instrument of death at an enemy.

- "And they know that neither of them wants to kill," Solomon finished, as if reading my thoughts, "They've grown up, Ned. They've chosen their path. And most importantly, both Robb and Jon realize that the paths they've chosen are different. Robb will be Lord of Winterfell and stay here, and Jon will leave it, like your brother Benjen. And the decision has already been made by both of them, which they honor."

With a movement of his head, he pointed to the arena.

- "And this sparring is the final test. And also, a promise that wherever they are, they will help each other. Plus, I'll be able to heal their wounds with magic."

My body stiffened at Solomon's words, and my eyes widened. And Cat's gaze moved between him and the arena.

- "B-but... They're only sixteen..." she muttered.

- "Circumstances, Lady Stark," he said and stroked the head of Arya standing beside him, "Hard times are coming. Very hard times. For the Stark family and for everyone else. And it's better to be prepared than to regret it, isn't it?"

What's he talking about?

- "What do you mean?" Sansa asked cautiously.

- "I... can see the future, within certain limits, of course. Events will change rapidly, and it's almost impossible to adjust to them."

- "Then-" I tried to ask about that, but he interrupted me at once.

- "I'm sorry, Ned. I can't share this."

- "I understand," I sighed tiredly, "Can you at least give me a hint of what to expect?"

- "Stay as close to the North as you can, and when the South Wind calls to you and you can't refuse, look twice before you take a step," he explained blurrily, then pointed to the arena, where Jon and Robb were looking in my direction, "I think it's time to give the signal, my friend."

I will remember his words.

Solomon has never been wrong yet, and if he says hard times are coming, then so be it. And I hope my family survives them.

- "Good," I nodded and waved my hand, "Get started!"

-0-

Robb Stark. Winterfell.

As soon as my father gave the signal, I instantly lunged toward Jon, swinging my sword wide and aiming it at the hand that held the weapon. Jon quickly thrust his blade in front of him with the hilt up, causing my sword to slide along his downward, parrying the blow and opening me up to attack.

But Jon didn't turn his sword blade toward me to strike, he did so with the hilt, hitting me in the jaw, causing me to take a step back.

- "Robb!" I heard my mother shout, but I ignored it, focusing on Jon, who sent me a victorious grin.

- "First strike for me, eh?"

- "You're just lucky," I grumbled, gripping the hilt of my sword and aiming it at Jon. "And how did you come up with the idea to strike like that, anyway?"

- "Lord Solomon told me to seize every opportunity in battle."

And as soon as he finished speaking, he began to move swiftly towards me.

Since I had chosen a two-handed sword and Jon a long sword, the initiative was on his side. He struck fast and multiple blows, forcing me into a deep defense. I managed to block them, but I missed some of them, causing small cuts on my clothes. It was good that they were the only cuts, because I was able to change their trajectory a little.

But Jon couldn't keep up that pace for long, and I waited for my opportunity. After about ten seconds, his onslaught lessened, and when my sword fought back, knocking Jon off balance, I swung with all my might and struck. Jon's eyes widened, and realizing he wouldn't have time to dodge, he put up a block.

I grinned, because I knew he couldn't block a punch like that.

Victory is mine!

And when our blades met... his long sword cut through my two-handed sword, leaving only its hilt in my hands.

I froze, my gaze running between the stump of my sword and the hilt. And as I did so, my hearing caught the voice of Lord Solomon watching us from the balcony.

- "God, Jon. Wasn't this duel supposed to show your skills in the art of swordsmanship alone?"

What?

- "Excuse me!" Jon quickly shrieked and bowed, "I-I... panicked and instinctively used 'Strengthening'."

What!!!

- "Apologize to your brother, not me, Jon," Lord Solomon said in a calm tone, "And yes, Robb won, of course. If you had taken this blow without the Reinforcements, you would have lost."

- "You're a fraud, Jon! Using magic is dishonest!" I shrieked, pointing a finger at him, "And I won, dammit!"

- "I'm sorry!"

- "Ah, yes, Robb," I turned to Lord Solomon, "Indeed, it was unfair now. But in a real battle, there is no such thing as unfair or unjust. You either survive or you die. Remember that."

- "Even if I don't want to admit it, Solomon is right, Robb," Father added and sighed, "Opponents won't always be as fair as you are."

- "I... understand. Thank you for the advice."

I took a deep breath and turned my head toward Jon, who walked over to me and extended his hand for a handshake.

- "Congratulations on your victory, Robb," he said with a guilty smile, "I'll win next time."

- "I'll be looking forward to it, Jon. But next time, please don't use magic," I said, shaking his hand.

He nodded, and breaking the handshake, we headed towards the castle, where we were greeted by the smiles of the rest of the family.

-0-

Kinvara. Wolfswood

Stepping over another branch, I followed my king into the depths of the Wolfswood.

One moment he was sitting by the fireplace reading a book, and the next, he left the castle and headed in some direction without turning or stopping. He moved in a measured manner, and his gaze never once left what seemed to be his intended route.

- "What do you want to find among the trees and snow, my king?"

He didn't answer or slow down, and all I could do was follow him in silence.

After a while, my king stopped at a small clearing where a small pack of direwolves had settled.

- "This." my king pointed to the clearing.

I saw a small squirrel-like animal with snow-white fur and big ears on the head of a particularly large direwolf, and on its neck there was something tiny like a cloak.

My king moved toward the pack with measured steps, and when the direwolves noticed him, they didn't growl and bared their fangs as I'd expected, but walked slowly toward him, ears and tail raised as if to greet an old friend. One step ahead of them was the one with the animal on his head.

- "What are you doing here, Primate Murder?" my king asked, looking at him.

Primate Murder? Is that the name of the beast, or the name of the species? But why is the word "Murder" in there? It doesn't conjure up any associations with that word.

- "Fou, kyu!" broached the beast and jumped over to my lord's shoulder and put his paw on his cheek, as if to lean on him.

- "I did not ask "Why are you among these big wolves?" but "Why are you in this world?" my king grabbed the beast by the scruff of its neck and brought it up to his face.

My lord... understands him?

- "Fou!"

- "Merlin?" Lord Solomon raised an eyebrow, "His 'Clairvoyance' cannot penetrate here, as this world does not fall under Akasha's jurisdiction. Unless... he gained access when I activated the Magic."

- "Fou."

- "Why do I have to take you with me?"

- "Fou, fou, kyu."

- "Feeding you is not an argument. And you're not a Goetia for me to take care of," my king said, then rubbed his chin, "Though if you're useful, we can negotiate terms."

- "Fou?"

- "Food isn't free, Primate Murder."

The brute remained silent and frowned, which made him even more attractive, and then crossed his front paws over his chest.

- "That's good." My king smiled and put it on his shoulder and stroked it. The beast turned away and pouted, but did not wave away my lord's hand.

After a few seconds, Lord Solomon turned around and headed back to the castle.

- "My king, what is this beast?" I asked and followed him.

- "What do you think, Kinvara, is the foundation of any society? Especially humans." My king casually asked in response to my question.
Society presupposes more than one person, right? It turns out...

- "Uh... On interaction with each other?" I answered cautiously.

- "Indeed," he nodded, to which I sighed in relief, "But at the heart of any society is Comparison. First of all, it is created out of the need of one person in another person who has skills or knowledge in the field in which the first is not strong. That is, comparing oneself to another."

- "I don't understand what you're saying."

- "What is R'Glor?"

- "Light." I answered confidently, without hesitation.

- "I mean, R'Glor is the Light. It's the same with this little beast, he's Comparison."

- "B-but how? It's too complicated."

- "On my world, the Age of Man is underway. And the people there have reached unimaginable heights for it, traveling to the stars, for example. Seven billion people inhabiting the earth and remaking it to suit their needs, trying to improve their lives, making it as comfortable as possible."

My king paused for a moment and then continued.

- "Of course, all of this was not without a "but". With the coming of this age, seven entities called the Evil of Mankind were born. Entities that embody the seven sins of mankind. These "sins" come from the attributes that humans embody in being, as actual human beings with wisdom. And they cannot disappear as long as humans continue to exist. And right now, one of those "sins" is sitting on my shoulder."

My foot stopped, never completing a step, causing me to nearly fall into the snow. My gaze slowly rose and traveled toward the seemingly harmless animal.

He is the embodiment of humanity's "sin"! What a frightening creature. And if my lord's words are to be believed, the Great Other seems like a small thing compared to him.

- "Y-you mean to say that—"

- "Don't worry. Although he is the "Evil of Mankind", capable of destroying people, that only applies to my world, not this one."

- "B-but if it's like you just said, there could be these creatures in this world too, right?"

- "I would sense them if that were the case. Perhaps their time of birth hasn't come yet, but right now, they're gone."

I let out a sigh of relief. After all, if what my king said was true, then even the Lord of Light couldn't do anything to them... unless they eradicate all humans.

- "Don't worry about it, Kinvara," my lord said in a soothing tone, "Besides, the Primate Murder is very easy to tame. Just feed it and pet it from time to time."

- "Fou, kyu!" chirped and started tapping his paw on Lord Solomon's cheek.

- "Well, and let him sleep most of the day."

By the way...

- "Why do you call this... beast... 'Primate Murder'?"

- "He is the most efficient human killer." answered my king as simply as if he were talking about the weather.

- "A H-human killer?" I asked in a trembling voice, "A-are you sure he won't kill all of us?"

The beast gave me a look that made my body tense and shiver with fear. And then, leapt toward me, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

Is he going to kill me? Just like that?

But after a few seconds, nothing happened, and I was still alive. Opening my eyes, and not finding the creature, I felt soft fur pleasantly tickling my cheek. And turning toward the sensation, my gaze caught the animal caressing against my face and standing on my shoulder.

- "Fou, kyu!"

- "He says not to worry. He loves people, and doesn't want to kill them." With a smile on his face my king said, "Take him in your arms and pet him. His fur is very soft and pleasant to the touch. And by the way, you can call him "Fou."

I carefully took the creature off my shoulder and with a trembling hand began to stroke it. And... it felt... nice. His fur was so soft that even the most expensive and magnificent silks in all of Volantis couldn't compare to it. And a strange sense of calm began to creep into my mind, bringing it to a state of peacefulness.

How... strange. "The Evil of Humanity" calms a person down... Very strange....

Without realizing it, I kept stroking the creature all the way to the gates of Winterfell, because I didn't want that pleasant feeling of peace to leave my mind.

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
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