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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[mirzael]

Jon Snow. Winterfell.
Six months later.

Robb and I were practicing our swords in the courtyard of Winterfell, until at one point we were summoned by my father, who looked... displeased. We silently followed him into the dining hall, where the rest of the Stark family had already gathered, along with Maester Luwin, Lady Kinvara, and Ser Rodrik.

When everyone was seated, Father gave Lady Kinvara a brief nod. She rose from her seat and walked to the center of the hall, holding a small crystal in her hand. Then, squeezed it in her hand.

- "If the crystal is activated, then everyone is already gathered." I heard Lord Solomon's voice, and I looked around for him like everyone else.

- "You don't have to look for me, because this is just a pre-recorded message," the voice continued, "And it means I've already left Winterfell."

I froze, and my hands clenched into fists.

He's... left Winterfell? Left us? Did we do something wrong? Did I do something wrong?

- "It's no one's fault," the voice said in a soothing tone, "Unfortunately, I need to travel, and I couldn't stay with you. I hope Ned will not hold a grudge for my sudden departure."

Father's face twisted unhappily.

- "But I couldn't do otherwise. The North is ready to look to the future, unlike other lands. And times are changing, and I need to prepare the ground for that, for what is sure to happen will require all the strength this land can provide."

Lady Kinvara's face took on a serious look.

- "To appease your displeasure I have left gifts for you that await in your private rooms. And I do not bid you farewell, for we shall meet again. Perhaps in a year. Perhaps in ten. But the meeting will happen. And I sincerely hope to see you all alive and well."

I lowered my gaze so as not to show my face to the others. Lord Solomon is never wrong, and I don't think he'll be wrong this time.

- "So keep a clear mind and look twice," the voice said in a reassuring tone, "And remember, Winter is coming."

At these words, the crystal in Lady Kinvara's hand disappeared, and no one in the hall said anything.

A sense of loss flashed through my mind. Lord Solomon had become a mentor, a friend, and most importantly, a father to me. Even more than Lord Stark himself. His soothing stroking of my head gave me peace and the promise that everything would be all right. I gave everything I had to prove myself worthy of this bond. And now...he was gone. Even though I knew it wasn't anyone's fault, the feeling of sadness and abandonment overwhelmed me.

I... felt an emptiness in my heart. But a tiny flame of hope and faith in Lord Solomon burned brightly deep within it. And when we meet again, I will be something he will be proud of.

I swear it. To all. To the gods.

With a shake of my head and a glance at the others present, my Origin activated. Which allowed some insight into their emotions and thoughts.
Father had a disgruntled look on his face, as if Lord Solomon had burned Winterfell, and the latter just looked at him and shrugged. In addition to displeasure, the father felt indignation and trust.

Lady Stark did not know how to react. Her mind was in turmoil, deciding exactly how to feel about this. She felt only uncertainty and confusion.
Maester Luwin sighed tiredly, regretting not having time to learn more about Lord Solomon's lands. His mind had only humility and a slight sense of discontent.

Ser Rodrik rubbed his chin thoughtfully, pondering what exactly had caused Lord Solomon to leave the castle. He sensed puzzlement and interest.

Robb nodded. He felt only understanding, firmly convinced and inevitable about the situation. And Rickon didn't quite understand what was going on and just shook his head.

Sansa was very upset. Her head was down and her hands were clutching her dress, but... she shed no tears. She felt resentment, abandonment, and regret.

Arya wept quietly, as did Bran. Their feelings of despondency and dejection overrode any other.

This depressing atmosphere was interrupted by my father's thump on the table. We all turned in his direction, turning our attention back to him.

- "Good. Since he has promised to meet us again and has given us no reason to distrust him, I suggest we take a look at the gifts he left behind," he said in a confident tone, "And if he doesn't keep his promise, I will find him myself."

Everyone nodded briefly and headed for their rooms. Including me.

As I entered the room, my eyes caught sight of a decent-sized bundle lying on the table. With slow steps, I walked over to it and carefully unwrapped it.

The gift turned out to be a long sword in a scabbard the color of dried grass. My hands carefully pulled the sword out of the sheath. It turned out to be a double-edged blade that was covered in small spots of something. Although it looked rather ordinary in appearance, I could feel a tremendous magical power emanating from it.

Bringing my finger to the blade and running my finger along it, a small cut appeared on my skin, which I was surprised to see, and a drop of my blood slowly dripped down it until there was a tiny flash of light. The blood on the blade disappeared, and at the same time I felt a connection established between me and this sword. My Origin activated, and the name of this blade resounded in my mind... Durandal: The Peerless Sword.

I stared at it mesmerized, studying every millimeter of it. It was beautiful, even without looking at the stains covering its blade. In my eyes, it shone like a beacon in the darkest night. And holding it in my hands, I felt that with it I was capable of a miracle. Great and impossible.

Putting the blade back into its scabbard, I pressed it to my chest and felt the warmth emanating from the sword. It was as if it welcomed me like an old friend, and I instinctively began to stroke its hilt.

- "Thank you..." I whispered, remembering Lord Solomon's smile, the smile he'd given me in times of need, and the words he'd spoken a week ago.

- "Hundreds of roads are open to you, young mage. All you have to do is choose the one your heart leads you down. Let it guide you, for it is in the right place, young Jon. And once chosen, do not hesitate or resist. For every path is unique."

I understand now, Lord Solomon.

And with these thoughts I went to bed without taking my sword from my chest. And a slight smile appeared on my face.

Now... I am ready to choose... father.

-0-

Eddard Stark. Winterfell.

The snow settled softly on my cloak, and the wind faintly swayed the scarlet-blooded leaves of the Weirwood tree before which I stood rubbing my temples.

Instead of returning to my study to see the gift Solomon had left behind, I visited the Godswood to think.

After a conversation six months ago and help from Solomon and Lady Kinvara, I had managed to create a network of informants that covered half of the North and continued to slowly grow further South.

I carefully selected people for the role, and eventually I had about thirty suitable people who could negotiate, blend in, and understand finances. And that's where it all started. True, I had to part with a substantial sum of money to give them a starting point. Bribery, buying out the necessary places for bases and falsifying documents cost a lot.

Not only that. The adherents of the Red Faith provide me with information from Essos through Lady Kinvara. I don't know how, but it doesn't really matter, as she is loyal to Solomon to the point of worship, something I haven't seen from any of the followers of the Seven. And I don't doubt him, not after his two years in Winterfell.

I sighed tiredly.

Now, after a time, I realize the complete power of money and information. With enough gold, you can buy almost anything, and information is knowing exactly what to buy and how to use it.

But it surprised me how true Solomon's words were... Brothels, markets and taverns. After receiving the first reports a month ago, I was stunned. Every rumor, every conversation, every coin. Information about all of it had fallen into my hands, and now there was almost nothing I didn't know about the North.

I was brought out of my musings by a yapping that came from the branches of the Weirwood.

- "Fou?"

Looking up, I saw the beast Solomon had brought with him. White as snow fur, violet beady eyes, big ears and a tiny cloak... and the demeanor of a very lazy cat.

Fou jumped down from the Weirwood branch onto my shoulder and began to paw at my face, which made me smile weakly and pet him.

In the six months of his presence, he had become a family favorite. And he looked harmless and adorable, which even I can't deny. Arya quickly became attached to him, and as soon as she saw him, she immediately ran to pick him up and pet him.

Despite his distinguished appearance, Fou was quite elusive, and it was almost impossible to find him unless he wanted to. And he eats as if he were not a small animal, but an adult lute wolf.

- "What are you doing here, Fou?" I asked, glancing at him-I think my children need your support more than I do at the moment.

- "Fou, kyu!" He barked and patted my face with his paw.

- "I'm sorry, but I don't understand you," I grinned, "Only Solomon could do that."

- "Fou." He yapped and... shrugged?

Another detail about him. He understands human speech and expresses emotion as such. Which is amazing. What an intelligent beast...

Suddenly his head turned toward the entrance to the Godswood, which made me do the same and see Ser Rodrik walking toward me.

- "My lord," he approached me and made a small bow, "One of them has arrived."

Oh? Today is the day, eh?

I nodded briefly and headed for my office, while Fou jumped off my shoulder and ran somewhere.

Well, time to get to work.

-0-

Solomon. Essos.

In a small flash of light, my figure appeared on the beach near Pentos, the city that would host the Azor Ahai candidate.

Taking a deep breath of the scent of salt water, my eyes surveyed the landscape before me. An incomprehensible feeling of freedom ran through my mind, and my hand ran through my hair.

What a wonderful feeling.

Freedom from invisible shackles, from imposed rules, from prejudice. I... love that feeling.

In a rush of emotion, I sat down on the sand and just stared at the horizon.

I'm alive... For real.

I don't know why, but at this moment I felt like the most alive person I've ever been, and as I raised my hands to the sky and closed my eyes, I felt the sand and water droplets brought by the wind gently settle on my skin.

So... calm...

- "What are you doing, handsome master?" I suddenly heard a young girl's voice.

Opening my eyes and lowering my hands, I turned towards the voice and saw a little girl of about six standing alone, looking at me with innocently blinking eyes.

- "I don't know," I answered and smiled softly.

- "You don't?" she asked and tilted her head to the side, "Are you a goofy person?"

- "I don't know. Anything can be," I repeated my answer and walked over to her, "What are you doing out here all alone?"

- "Collecting shells!" She shrieked happily and pointed to the coast.

- "Оh? May I ask why, young lady?"

- "Daddy sells them in town, and I'm helping him!"

- "I see," I nodded, "My name is Solomon, and yours?"

- "Iona!" she answered and smiled.

- "Nice to meet you, Iona." I stroked her head, "Is your daddy okay with what you're doing?"

She lowered her head and remained silent.

What a pure child.

- "Why aren't you afraid I'm some kind of thug?"

- "You are not like that, handsome master." she shook her head and a smile shone on her face again, "You are like a sunshine. So bright and warm. I can see that."

I froze and raised an eyebrow.

A gift? How interesting.

Looking into her eyes, I noticed they were the color of the sky... Eyes of purity... Well, or their counterpart of this world. Really interesting.

- "Let's take you home. Your parents must be worried about you," I held out my hand to her, "You should apologize to them. They love you, and it's not good to upset them."

- "Okay." She nodded sadly and grabbed my hand and led me to her house.

The picture on the way to Iona's house was different compared to the North, but familiar and nostalgic at the same time. The sparse people dressed in thin clothes or no clothes at all, the hot air blowing around my cloak, and the blazing sun high in the sky created an extremely familiar atmosphere. Not for me, but for Solomon.

I had not visited such parts of the world in my past life, but had only seen them through a TV screen or a photograph. But my very being felt nostalgic. And as my feet measuredly took another step, that feeling intensified.

I wonder who I am more? Solomon or myself?

The strange thing is that it is not disturbing, but intriguing and interesting. What a strange feeling...

About fifteen minutes later we arrived at a small hut standing alone near the hills. At its entrance stood a middle-aged man and woman who looked very worried. And as soon as they saw me and Iona, the woman immediately rushed towards her and, catching up, hugged her tightly.

- "Iona! We told you not to go out alone! I was so worried!" She mumbled with tears in her eyes.

- "I'm sorry, Mom." Iona hugged her back, resting her head on her mother's shoulder.

At the same time, a man walked up to us, keeping his eyes on me, and stopped in front of me.

Well, I could tell he was not a peasant or a slave. His gait and demeanor are too different from either.

- "Thank you for bringing Iona back, master," he said and bowed, "I hope she didn't cause you any trouble."

- "It's all right. You have a good daughter," I shook my head and made a small bow, "Solomon, a pleasure to meet you."

- "Halon, likewise," he bowed back, then pointed to the woman, "And this is my wife, Rizza."

No last name? I suppose either a bastard or his house has fallen. But definitely of noble blood. Halon, at least.

Meanwhile, Rizza stood up, holding Iona's hand, and made a grateful bow.

- "We thank you sincerely, master Solomon," she said, "Let us go inside. I would like to thank you at least with food for helping our daughter. Do you mind, Halon?"

- "Of course." He nodded, "Come on, master Solomon. Rizza is a very good cook."

I nodded briefly, and we headed for their hut.

I guess a stop wouldn't hurt.

-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. Essos.

The day at Iona's household was spent quite well. After lunch, Mistress Rizza took care of household chores, and Iona played outside under the supervision of Halon and me. The content of the conversations was not out of the ordinary, but his analyzing gaze never left my figure. He didn't comment on my appearance or clothing in any way, but he definitely made a couple of notes.

Halon was definitely of noble descent and behaved cautiously with me. No questions about family or money. I wondered what the story behind him was.

The morning after, he headed to the Pentos market to buy something. And since I was heading there too, I went with him.

He was dressed in his usual linen robes and took a small dagger with him. And I, after some thought, created a beige-colored cloak covering my entire body. Since I thought that my appearance... attracted too much attention, considering my first appearance in Winterfell.

He was surprised at my actions, raising an eyebrow, but not too much.

- "So you're a sorcerer, Master Solomon?"

- "A Magician, to be exact. And you're not particularly surprised by that fact, Master Halon," I replied, "Besides, we can drop the formalities. If it's convenient for both of us, of course."

- "Good. If we're both comfortable with it," he nodded, "Magic, though rare, is known to ordinary people. That's why my reaction is so weak. And now that I have the opportunity, may I ask who you are? You didn't have any bag or provisions, indicating either a lack of need or something to do with magic. You're definitely of noble blood, given your appearance and clothing. And your calmness hints at full awareness of the situation and knowing what to do and how to do it. But why were there no escorts? That's very strange."

- "A traveling Magician. And I'm confident in my magic so I don't rely on guards or needs," I said in a measured tone, "And you're very strange too. This level of observation and skill of behavior is not typical of the average shell salesman. A fallen house or a bastard?"

- "So you're from Westeros," Halon nodded to himself, "And what about me? Let's just say something happened."

- "I see. What can you tell me about Pentos? This is the first time I've visited the city. I assume you have more information than the average person."

- "Is there anything in particular you're interested in? What you're asking me to tell you may take some time."

- "Something specific, I suppose," I replied, thinking, "What would you single out for yourself?"

- "Hmm... Slavery, I think. Officially, it's forbidden in Pentos. In fact, there are still slaves. They're just called by a different name. Technically, they're free, but they can only leave if they're not in debt to their master. And the vast majority of the city's population is in debt, because the pay for labor is extremely low and does not cover the cost of shelter and food."

He paused for a moment.

- "Pentos and Braavos had been at war six times, costing the city a great deal. One of the princes, formally the ruler of the city and elected by the council of magisters, who hold the real power, made a peace treaty with Braavos, forbidding Pentos to have its own army besides the city guard, more than twenty warships or mercenaries. And the abolition of slavery, of course. Is that enough, Solomon?"

- "Quite." I answered and thought.

Interesting.

Such a policy makes Pentos defenseless, except for its high walls. But a couple of siege weapons, which don't exist yet, and the city can be taken by anyone. Hmm...

- "From what I've heard, the Red Faith also plays an important role in ruling the city. Is that really true?"

- "It can be said that the Magisters count with it. When there's little hope, the only thing left to trust is faith in something. A decent portion of the city's population are followers of the Red Faith. And since there are essentially no soldiers, the magisters vehemently avoid confronting them and prefer to ignore the believers."

I nodded.

From Halon's words, we can conclude that there is an unspoken non-aggression pact between them. The Red Faith benefits from their position because of the increase in the number of believers, and the Magisters benefit from the presence of an outlet for the common people in the form of faith. Hmmm... I wonder who Halon was before his current life. He doesn't seem disgruntled and genuinely cares for his wife and daughter.

While I was busy pondering, we had already reached the gates of the city, where there was a small queue. Halon simply walked past it and, ignoring the guards, entered the city. The guards gave him a brief glance, but said nothing. They let me through, apparently realizing that I was with him.

As I entered the city, I was struck by its furnishings. The houses were built of sandy bricks, the roads were paved with cobblestones, and a great number of people in light clothes were walking back and forth. Two buildings stood out in particular: something that looked like a palace on a hill and another building on the opposite side of town.

- "This is where I bid you farewell. I need to get to the market," Halon said, pointing east when we came to a fork in the road. "And I assume you're heading toward that temple of the Red God, the second tallest building in Pentos."

- "I see, so that's the temple. Then that's really where I'm going," I said and headed in his direction, "I hope we meet again, Halon."

- "Me too." He said goodbye and disappeared into the crowd.

I walked through the streets of the city and was struck by how familiar the surroundings were to me. Merchants beckoned people into their stores and offered their wares, small groups of guards roamed the nooks and crannies looking for potential troublemakers, plainly dressed women sought customers for their special services, and, of course, "non-slaves" worked in sweat under the blazing sun and dressed in rags.

I even caught a glimpse of red priestesses broadcasting to the crowds about the benefits of believing in their god. They were beautiful and well-groomed, as well as dressed in their red robes. In their speeches, my senses picked up a subtle trace of magic that penetrated the minds of the crowd and made them more malleable.

At this leisurely pace I reached the temple doors. There were two guards standing at the door, watching the surrounding people with unblinking eyes and keeping a close watch on the building. But I didn't see any visitors who should be standing there listening to the sermons.

As I climbed the stairs leading to the temple, I stopped at its door.

- "Good afternoon, gentlemen," I said hello, "May I come in and see the high priestess of the temple?"

- "Of course, Lord Solomon," one of them answered, which made me raise an eyebrow, "She is already waiting for you in the main hall."

- "Do you already know about me?" I asked.

- "The Lord of Light has informed us of your visit, my lord," the other replied, "We have been preparing for your arrival and hope you will be satisfied with our hospitality."

The two guards bowed and opened the doors of the temple, letting me inside. Once inside, I was immediately greeted by a red priestess of East Asian appearance with long black hair, who made a bow upon seeing me.

- "I welcome you to our temple, Lord Solomon. My name is Fina, and I will escort you to the High Priestess. I hope we will live up to your expectations," she said in a melodious voice, to which I nodded briefly, "In that case, please follow me."

And with those words I followed her. Fina led me down a wide brick corridor lined with columns with torches hanging from them. On the way to the main hall where I was expected, every follower of R'Glor bowed respectfully when he saw my figure, even though I was still wearing my cloak with the hood over my head. Apparently Kinvara's words about loyalty to R'Glor were true, though she is a fanatic to the core.

Fina stopped at a large door with a heart carved in flames on it.

- "We are here, Lord Solomon," she said and bowed. "The High Priestess awaits you behind those doors."

I nodded and gently pushed the doors open. The hall was a rectangular room with a giant brazier in the middle with a fire dancing in it, standing on a pedestal.

In front of it, in a bowed posture, stood a woman, as I realized, the High Priestess of Pentos. Long blond hair, smooth skin, and Caucasian appearance.

- "It is my sincere pleasure to welcome you to our temple, Lord Solomon. You may call me simply Erin, and I hope we can make your stay in this city as comfortable as possible." she said and straightened up.

- "Thank you, Erin. Did R'Glor inform you of the reason for my arrival?" I asked as I removed my hood, causing a slight blush to appear on her face.

- "Of course you have come for the Targaryen children. Our men will notify you of their arrival."

Hmm... I suppose the Red Faith is more in control of the flow of information in the city than the Magisters. Though that's not particularly surprising, given the ability of Red priests and priestesses to use magic. And the "children"? There was only a girl in the vision. Was there a relative with her? Interesting. But that could be dealt with when we met them, but for now....

- "Erin."

- "Yes?"

- "What can you tell me about the man I arrived with? I'm sure your people know something about him."

She thought for a few seconds.

- "He is the son of one of the magisters named Ordello. As far as I know, he fell in love with one of the slave girls, or "free maids" as they are called here, and wanted to marry her. Ordello was extremely unhappy with his son's decision and offered him a choice: either Halon would give up his decision, or he would do as he wished and leave the city, losing his status and money. Reputation and gold were all that mattered to magisters. And he didn't want to risk the first factor."

- "Interesting. But why didn't he just get rid of his son and his chosen one? The solution, though drastic, was quick and reliable."

- "That is true," she nodded, "But Halon has impressive skills in management and business, and he took advantage of them by making an arrangement with his father. He would handle Ordello's affairs from time to time, and in return, he would not touch his son's family. Halon also benefited from the fact that he was his father's most capable child, something the latter did not want to lose. Ordello is old, but he hasn't lost his touch. And losing such an asset would be a foolish decision."

- "I see."

So Halon wasn't coming to town to shop, but to work for his father. I have to say, I'm impressed. To be able to negotiate on that level and know one's worth in the eyes of others is a rare skill, even in modern times. Excellent for a ruler or counselor, I'd say.

- "Should I send some men to watch him? I understand you're interested in this man."

- "Not at all," I shook my head, "If fate wills it, we will meet again, and then we can make plans. Besides, a man like him will notice the surveillance, and I see no point in undermining his confidence."

- "As you command, my lord," Erin bowed, "If that's all you're interested in, I suggest you get some rest. Fina!"

When she heard her name called, she entered the hall.

- "She will be your personal maid for the duration of your stay in Pentos and will take you to your chambers."

- "Although I am not as skilled as the High Priestess Kinvara, I will do my best to fulfill your every need, Lord Solomon," Fina said confidently, "Please follow me."

I nodded and headed to my assigned room, accompanied by Fina.

Well, the journey to Pentos was certainly going to be interesting.

-0-

Eddard Stark. Winterfell.

- "What can I do for you, Lady Kinvara?" I asked, looking up from my papers.

- "Some information has come in that will interest you, Lord Stark."

- "What kind of information?"

- "There is an assassination attempt on John Arryn."

I froze and stared into her face, searching for signs of a lie.

An assassination attempt? I know King's Landing is full of rats and snakes, but something like this? What exactly does John do to bring this on himself.

- "Details?"

- "Something to do with the royal family. Unfortunately, that's all we've been able to find out."

- "I see," I nodded, "Thank you for reporting it."

- "Of course. And if I may, I suggest we send more men to the King's Landing," Lady Kinvara suggested, "There is a storm brewing, just as my king predicted. I think we should prepare."

- "So do I."

- "In that case, I'll take my leave," she bowed and headed for the exit, "Have a good day, Lord Stark. And may the Lord of Light and my king help us."

With those words, she left my office, and I wondered.

Given Robert's attitude toward all these intrigues and conspiracies, he doesn't pay much attention to them. But who's planning the assassination attempt? I don't think it's the master over the whisperers. He's more of a passive player, and taking such action is not his style. A Lannister, perhaps? That's a pretty solid assumption if the case involves royalty. Besides, Renly and Stannis wouldn't do something like this.

I rubbed my temples. And while I was doing so, a silver ring engraved with a wolf's head, a gift from Solomon I'd found in my room, caught my eye. It looked rather ordinary, but my, as he put it, hereditary penchant for magic told me that the ring was enchanted. Though I had no idea how or what it was enchanted with.

Standing up from the table, I went to the window and looked out at the sky.

What would Solomon have done in my shoes? Who knows...

-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]

Fina. Pentos.
A month later.

- "Where are we going today, my lord?" I asked, following Lord Solomon.

- "I'm not sure, but something is definitely going to happen today. I can feel it." He answered, keeping up his pace and passing another shop.

During the first week of his arrival, my lord walked around the temple and studied it. He walked down every corridor and talked to the people, asking them about their lives and service to the Lord of Light.

After that week, Lord Solomon began to explore the city. Sometimes he would just go to what seemed like random places and visit various establishments, listening or studying people. And on some occasions, my lord would leave the city to go out to the sea to admire the scenery or walk around the neighborhood and watch the animals.

Also... Lord Solomon was not what I had imagined him to be. When the Lord of Light told us about my lord, I had a picture in my mind of an old, stern man with a steely gaze and a beard, but seeing him in person and talking to him... I don't know what to say.

I in no way expected to see such a handsome, tall, obliging and kind man. Accompanying him this month, he has become to me something like the sibling I never had.

Just talking to him made my heart feel calmer and my thoughts come to order. It felt like there was no problem I couldn't handle. And our communication changed from formal, that is, maid and master, to something relational.

Remembering the past, I didn't notice that my lord had stopped, and I crashed into his back, starting to fall. But a light breeze caught me and set me on my feet, which I realized was the result of Lord Solomon's magic.

- "Careful next time, little Fina. You shouldn't go off on yourself so much. At least when you're going somewhere." With a smile on his face, Lord Solomon said while looking at me, making me feel embarrassed and nodded briefly.

Shaking off the embarrassment, I looked around, wanting to understand why my lord had stopped, but I was unable to do so. All that caught my eyes were people walking through the streets, shops with merchants, and the sun high in the sky.

- "Looking for a reason for my stopping, little Fina?" My lord asked, to which I nodded.

The next moment, I felt my lord's magic flow into me. My eyes seemed to light up for a second, which made me have to close them. And when I opened them and looked around, a sense of intense wonder flashed through my mind.

My eyes could see every wrinkle on people's arms, every bird flying high in the sky and even small insects on tree leaves and building walls.

- "The roof of the building ahead."

I obeyed and directed my gaze there. And there I saw a definitely angry Halon, Master Ordello's son, with six men pointing their spears at him and Ordello himself standing in front of them with a serious expression on his face. They were talking about something, but I could see it wasn't going well.

Are they in conflict? Didn't they have an agreement between them?

- "What do you plan to do, my lord?" I asked without taking my eyes off the stage.

- "After all, it would be foolish to lose such a capable man, wouldn't it?" He answered and snapped his fingers.

My vision was caught in a flash of light, causing me to close my eyes once more for a brief moment. And the next moment, my lord and I found ourselves in the very building where the scene was taking place.

- "W-Who are you?! How did you get in here?!" cried out one of the spear wielders who had spotted us.

His shout was heard by the others present and they too turned towards us. Their eyes widened in surprise, but only one of them had a look of recognition in his eyes.

- "Solomon?" Halon asked stunned, "What are you doing here?"

- "Is this your friend, my son?" Ordello questioned, examining my lord with an analytical eye.

- "I understand you are in trouble, my friend. Perhaps I can lend you a helping hand." Lord Solomon spoke softly.

Shifting his gaze from my lord to his son and back again, Ordello decided to speak up.

- "What an interesting friend you have, Halon. How did you manage to meet someone like him?"

But Halon ignored him.

- "I could use your help, Solomon. As you can see, my father has decided to break our pact."

- "Оh?" My lord gestured for him to continue.

- "According to our agreement, I was to do my father's work for five years, after which I and my family become free, and can return to the city with a certain amount of money paid to me. And today that period has come to an end. However, my father is unwilling to honor his end of the bargain, which has led to this situation."

- "Is that so?" My lord asked, shifting his gaze to Ordello.

- "Do you really think your friend is capable of helping you?" Ordello raised an eyebrow, "What's stopping me from just getting rid of him?"

Is he... threatening my lord? Threatens us? How dare he?!

- "What do you think you're doing, Magister?!" I shrieked, "If you dare raise your hand against Lord Solomon, you can be sure that every follower of the Lord of Light will take up arms and point them at you!"

Ordello froze and looked at me intently. And Halon looked up in surprise and examined my lord.

- "So he is an important figure for the Red Faith? Don't we have a mutually beneficial relationship? Aren't you afraid of losing the support of the magisters?" He asked confidently.

- "It doesn't matter," I answered calmly, "Every follower of the Lord of Light is ready to sacrifice his life just on one word of my lord. Or do you doubt my words, Magister?"

- "I don't think I can afford it," Ordello said thoughtfully, "But if no one knows about it, then there is no problem, is there?"

Then he raised his hand and waved it, which caused all six of them with spears in their hands to head in our direction.

- "How dare you!" I shrieked, standing in front of Lord Solomon, "The Lord of Light will know about this! You're all going to burn-"

- "Enough, little Fina. Your actions warm my heart, but it is not necessary." My lord said in a soft voice as he placed his hand on my shoulder and snapped his fingers.

The next moment, wood vines grew out of the floor and grabbed the armed men, wrapping them tightly and depriving them of any movement. They became like skeins of cloth, for even their eyes and mouths were tightly covered by the vines.

And I, feeling a surge of magical energy, staggered in awe and admiration. All scarlet priests and priestesses are sensitive to magic, and to be in such close proximity to such a high manifestation of it was akin to a miracle.

I watched the scene before me with rapt attention, and Lord Solomon's words made a wave of warmth pass through my body. It felt so good that a happy smile appeared on my face at the fact that my lord cared for me and I was useful to him.

- "You're a sorcerer?!" Ordello asked stunned, but he was ignored again.

- "What do you wish to do with him, my friend?" My lord shifted his gaze to Halon, "His fate is in your hands, as it has been the other way around for the past five years. And it is up to you alone to decide if he lives."

Halon pondered, putting a hand to his chin.

- "Are you really contemplating the idea of killing me, my son? After all I've done for you? Such ingratitude I never expected from you." Ordello said, looking at his son.

- "Before I met Rizza, I had never asked you for anything. It was the only time I ever asked you to approve of my decision," Halon began, looking up at his father, "If you had done otherwise, I would have done what I did for five years and lived happily with her. And you, father, would have remained Magister, retaining your power and influence. Both you and I would have been happy... But you chose to do otherwise."

- "So that's what you think of it... Don't you realize what your decision to take a slave girl as your wife would have cost you? Don't you realize how much respect and influence I would have lost because of your shenanigans? I love you, my son, but I could never approve of such a thing, nor can I to this day. You break my heart."

- "Don't call her a slave! It is not her fault that life in this bloody city has brought her to this!" Halon growled, and then took a deep breath to calm himself, "I love you too... and that's why you won't die..."

Ordello raised an eyebrow.

- "I will give you the same choice you gave me five years ago: Exile or death. I hope you make the right choice. For both of us, Father."

- "Death. I choose death," Ordello replied almost instantly, to which Halon sighed sadly, "I see you already understood what decision I would make, and I am glad I taught you well. But let me tell you something, after my death you will have a huge burden of responsibility and problems. I hope you survive them, Halon, my son."

No one has ever seen Ordello like this. I'm sure of it. And I'm naturally stunned. A few moments ago he was a magister, and now... I see a loving father... This whole situation has hundreds of questions running through my head. Has Ordello always been like this or is it just a mask? I just can't understand it.

I didn't see Halon's eyes, but I can guess how difficult his father's decision was. He picked up a dagger from a nearby table and was about to do the deed with his own hands, but, suddenly, the vines stopped him, braiding around his legs. Halon slowly looked up at my lord, and in his eyes was a mute question, "Why?".

- "I will take on this role," my lord said in a measured tone, looking at Halon's seemingly icy mask, "Killing your own father is a heavy burden. Nightmares will haunt you throughout your life, reminding you of the blood you would have spilled."

- "But-"

- "I know, my friend. You think it must be done by your own hands, as if letting go of your past. But do you really want to condemn yourself to suffering? This blow will go much deeper than you realize. Murder could affect not only you, but your wife and daughter as well. And you certainly don't want that." He continued, causing Halon to freeze like a statue.

- "Listen to your friend, Halon. He is wise, even if he looks twenty years old. Even I wouldn't do that. And you have to live with it." Ordello added, looking softly at his son.

- "I... I don't know what to do..." Halon mumbled, lowering his head.

- "And you, Solomon, I think I should thank you."

- "For what, Magister?" My lord raised an eyebrow.

- "You accomplished what I could not. Forcing him to make extreme decisions," he said, looking at his son, "Ever since he was a child, he has preferred not to resort to such actions. Murder. I'd probably be the first person he'd ever killed in his entire life."

- "And you won't change your mind? Is exile a better option, Magister?"

- "No," Ordello said flatly, "I cannot go against my nature. As much as I don't want to admit it, my son is only second to the position of Master. It's for the best. For him and for me."

And as they spoke, Halon straightened up. With a hard look on his face and his head held high.

- "Do it, Solomon. I am ready." He declared, to which my lord nodded briefly.

I felt the rush of magic again, and saw a scarlet spear covered with some runes appear behind my lord's back. And his aura spread across the roof, creating the image of a man with eyes as scarlet as blood. He was dressed in strange blue robes, and his hair of the same strange blue was tied into a short ponytail.

The next moment the spear tore in a flash of scarlet and pierced Ordello's heart.

- "You have grown, my son." He smiled as he fell to the ground. And a moment later, his eyes closed forever.

Silence reigned in the room. And Halon's stone-hard gaze never left his father's breathless body.

After a few moments, Halon took a deep breath.

- "Release the guards, Solomon," he said, still looking at the body, "I have a statement to make."

The vines holding the six men and Halon himself slowly returned to the floor, and a moment later not even a trace of them remained.

- "What happened?" One of the guards asked, and then saw the dead Ordello, "The Magister is dead!"

- "Yes. He's dead." Halon declared, drawing the attention of all six of them, "I am the Magister now. Anyone against?"

They were silent in response, apparently remembering my lord's actions, judging by the very cautious glances in his direction.

- "Good," Halon nodded, "Inform the others. Master Ordello is dead, and his place has been taken by his son, Halon. Let every man in Pentos know this. And take the body. We must give the former magister a proper funeral. Dismissed."

The six threw glances at the body, my lord and Halon, and then left in silence. At the same time, he sat down at the table and went into thought. My lord, on the other hand, just stood there staring at him.

It's just as Lord Solomon said. Something happened today... But I never expected it to be this.

Pentos is about to changes. Big changes.

-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]

Halon. Pentos.
Three months later.

When I finally managed to tear myself away from work, I decided to organize a family dinner. The pleasant weather and the good state of affairs kind of hinted at it.

The atmosphere on the balcony of my now mansion was quite lively. Rizza was feeding Iona and smiling happily. Solomon was merely sipping wine, while his maid Fina was enthusiastically munching on fruit. Normally it would be sacrilege for a maid to sit at the table with the lord, but I didn't really care, and Solomon convinced her to do so. No guards were required, as there was nothing Solomon could not prevent.

It had been three months since my father's death, and I had taken over as magister. A farewell was held by the men of the Red Faith, organizing a funeral pyre. As his body disappeared into the flames of the pyre, I only watched in silence, remembering the past. He wasn't the best father, but he wasn't the worst, I must admit.

After that, things came crashing down on me like a waterfall, and free time became a holiday for me. Since I was planning to subtly change the structure of the city, I needed a lot of time.

First, moving Rizza and Jonah back to the city. Rizza understood everything quickly and accepted it calmly, but there was still the question of their safety. The solution came rather quickly: with Solomon's support, they would be constantly watched from the shadows by the followers of the Red Faith, of which there were many in the city.

Even knowing that there was no place in Pentos without their eyes or ears, I was doubtful and worried. Still, I trusted them, as there was essentially no other choice. There were extremely few people I could trust, and I was left to trust the fanatics well and Solomon himself.

Secondly, the issue of slavery. Pentos is ruled by three magistrates, of which I am now one. And the prince himself, for that matter, though that one is just a puppet. And now, it is necessary either to convince them to change the standard of living, in the city, thanks to which slavery, as such, will disappear, or... disarm and do it all myself.

Dealing with the issue verbally is easy because of the treaty to "abolish" slavery, but then it will be hard to pay tribute to the Dothraki to keep them from simply taking over the city, since Pentos is still under an agreement with Braavos. It's good to know that at least I don't have to fear a surprise attack from the other Free Cities, since they all have Red Faith to alert me.

The whole issue comes down to gold. I need a new source of income that can cover the costs. But where to get it? It's unclear. Although.

- "Solomon." I called out to him.

- "Hm?"

- "I need your help. And I'd be very grateful if you would."

- "Money, I take it?" He asked calmly, taking a sip of wine from his glass, to which I nodded briefly.

- "Hmm..." he hesitated, "I don't suppose you care much about the attention you might get from my ideas?"

- "The Free Cities prefer not to meddle in each other's affairs," I shrugged, "And Westeros is too far away to cause excitement."

The Free Cities only care about themselves, so I see no reason to worry. Even if Solomon's proposed option gives them a significant boost in finances, the most they'll do is a trade treaty.

Westeros? If I recall my father's papers, they certainly won't have much time for Pentos. They're in their own cauldron and don't see the point in doing anything drastic about such a remote city.

Besides, if something like this were to happen, the other free cities would rather help than ignore it. After all, no one knows if they'll be next, and risking their power to rule the cities is absurd.

- "Оh? Then I have a solution for you." Solomon smiled and made himself comfortable.

- "I'm listening..."

-0-

Solomon. Pentos.
Three months later.

Walking slowly through the streets, I dare say it's as if Pentos has gotten a second wind. All because I shared with Halon the blueprints for the printing press and how to create the lenses.

Since printing requires paper, I was able to get Halon to cooperate with Ned. He, of course, looked at me skeptically at the idea of interacting with Westeros, much less the North, but sent a raven nonetheless. The answering raven flew in soon enough, agreeing of course. Most likely the mention of my name in Halon's letter played a significant role in this.

Thus, the printing of books and manuscripts was started. Which the Red Faith people decided to take advantage of. One afternoon, Erin, hearing the news, burst into my room with a request that the first text to come off the press would be R'Glor's writing. Which reminded me of the first batch of printed bibles.

After much persuasion, I did agree, subject to censorship on my part, as well as quantity limits. And, as it seemed to me, she stopped listening to me as soon as approval came out of my mouth.

Having studied the scriptures, I was met with exactly what I expected from devoted fanatics: "The Lord of Light is omnipotent," "He is good, merciful and grants salvation to His followers," and so on. However, I was confused by the clause about burning. And not just of heretics, but of self-sacrifice in fire, sacrifices and the like, which I decided to definitely remove. To this, Erin didn't express the slightest bit of displeasure, but only nodded briefly, even though she should have done the exact opposite.

In the end, the first ten scripts came off the machine a month ago. And Erin's next actions really impressed me. She gathered a crowd in front of the temple and randomly handed out all ten scriptures to ten people, who then began to share what they had read with others.

Yes, not everyone could read, but that only played into the hands of the non-scientists who sought help from the scholars, which only increased the effect of this medieval marketing, namely word of mouth. And since those who could read and write were mostly servants of high-ranking members of the city, the writing got to them as well.

And the main reason was money. The self-confident and wealthy wanted to get their own machine for their personal use. The gold flowed to Halon, because he was the one who revealed the information about the device and was the main sponsor. Ned also got his share of the pie, as the white paper was supplied by him, which was worth a lot.

Regarding lenses, glass was not uncommon in Essos, so production was cheap and quick. There were a lot of people with vision problems. And it didn't really bother them until the printing press came along. The rich even gave them away for free to raise their reputation and attractiveness in the eyes of others, because people had a desire to learn to read and write.

There was a demand for scholarship, and a lot of it. The reason was simple. Anyone rich enough could try to publish what they wanted. And the poor were looking for a way to get away from work and learn more.

Of course, there was censorship. On my advice, and Halon had thought of it himself, he had set up a sort of department that would check every text before letting it go to press. And for an extra fee, the checking could be accelerated.

In short, the money problem was solved, and one invention supported another and vice versa. Maybe I should suggest that Halon build schools. Perhaps.

- "My lord!" I suddenly heard little Fina's voice and turned around. She was running towards me, holding her dress in her hands so she wouldn't trip, and her face flushed with exertion. It looked quite adorable though, as Fina was about one and a half meters tall and had almost childlike facial features. To be as accurate as possible, she looked like a pop idol from modern times.

- "My Lord! Why didn't you wait for me and leave on your own?! I thought you abandoned me!" When she reached me, she said excitedly, getting distracted by her panting every now and then.

- "Well, well, well. I wouldn't do that to my little Fina." I smiled, to which she pouted adorably.

- "You're bad." she said with a note of feigned resentment in her voice.

- "That's just the way it is," I said and stroked her head, to which she began to caress my hand on her own. "Erin wanted to talk to you about something, and I didn't want to interrupt you. Did something happen?"

- "That's right!" She exclaimed and raised her head, "They've arrived. They were accompanied by one of the magisters named Illyrio Mopatis. The High Priestess said they were staying at the Magister's mansion not far from here."

- "Оh?" I tilted my head to the side, "In that case, I want to visit them. Will you come with me?"

- "Of course! You're not going anywhere without me!" she said emphatically, making a serious face, which looked cute.

- "All right, then. Then, lead the way." I smiled and held out my hand to her.

-0-

Daenerys Targaryen. Pentos.

Finally, we reached the city and stopped at the villa of magister Illyrio Mopatis. Which I was unspeakably happy about, relaxing in the chair. Traveling between the free cities had worn me out quite a bit. Yes, my brother and I didn't have to worry about random bandits, but the tension still lingered.

The Usurper is cunning and vindictive. And anyone who meets him could turn out to be an assassin sent by him, as Viserys, my older brother, had told me. We never stayed long in one place for fear of assassination attempts.

Pentos was like other free cities, but with a twist, it seemed to me. The townspeople here were different. They were... smarter? Yes, smarter than in the other cities we'd visited, and their views clearer.

Small crowds of people gathered in random places and were actively discussing something. I got a sense of the intelligent conversations my brother told me about, but they were just ordinary peasants, right? Why did this feeling visit my mind just by looking at them?

- "Why do you have such a pensive face, magister?" The brother asked, looking at Illyrio and taking a sip of wine, "Is someone causing trouble?"

- "Perhaps." replied the Magister, scratching his chin.

- "Perhaps?" inquired the brother.

- "The magister, with whom I had several active deals, has died, and his son has taken his place. I'm just considering my next move, my lord."

- "Isn't that common, Magister? The son inherited the title."

- "Not exactly," Illyrio shook his head, "Usually a Magister is elected by financial status or by the judgment of the other Magisters. In rare cases, when a new magister "deals" with the previous one. And it's clear to me exactly what method was used in this one. Also, the rumors wandering the streets of the city make me a bit wary."

- "I don't see any reason to worry, as long as it doesn't prevent us from getting an army."

- "I doubt that it will."

- "An army?" I asked.

- "Oh, right. I didn't tell you," my brother smiled and looked at me, "You're getting married, dear sister!"

- "Married?!"

- "That's right. A Khal, who has a whole horde at his disposal, has decided to marry you!" – "Just imagine how horrified the usurper will be when he sees our army!"

- "But I don't want to marry someone I've never even met!"

- "Don't you want revenge on the man who took the throne from me? Or our father's murderer, Daenerys? Don't you realize what this savage is offering just to marry you?"

- "But..."

- "Either way, your words mean nothing. He will come here, where you will meet him in person. I hope you can impress him. Otherwise."

- "I... understand... big brother." I said humbly and rubbed my face where the last bruise I had received from my furious brother had been.

If... if this allows the Targaryens to regain the Iron Throne, then... I'm willing to go for it... I guess....

Suddenly there was a knock on the door of the room, and then one of Illyrio's men stepped inside.

- "Magister." he bowed, "Two unknown men approached the villa. A man and a woman who is part of the Red Faith."

The Magister raised an eyebrow and frowned, and the brother-.

- "Оh? They have come to greet their king?" He exclaimed and stood up from his seat and headed for the exit, "Lead me to him. It would be rude not to greet his subjects. Daenerys, Illyrio, follow me."

The guard only nodded briefly and led his brother outside. The Magister, on the other hand, sighed tiredly and a few seconds later rose from his chair as well.

- "Come, my lady," he said and held out his hand to me, "We shouldn't keep him waiting."

I started and together with the magister followed my brother.

Once outside, my eyes noticed two people standing near the entrance to the villa. The petite girl dressed in red robes was obviously the one who was a follower of the Red Faith, the most common religion in the Free Cities, and the man...

He was amazing. And I'm not talking about his appearance, since his body was covered by a cloak, but his aura. A feeling of awe swept over my mind as it reminded me of a dragon. Gigantic, mighty, and majestic. So much so that for a moment I held my breath at the feeling.

- "Who are you? Identify yourself to your king!" my brother said confidently, but I didn't listen.

My eyes never left the man's silhouette, simply because they couldn't. And when he took off his hood and his face was revealed, I gasped and felt the heat rise to my cheeks. He was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen.

- "Solomon, the traveling Magician," he said, smiling and looking us over, "It's nice to meet you."

-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. Pentos.

After introducing myself, I was invited inside to talk about the benefits of my joining the cause. And a relative of the Azor Ahai candidate... disappointed. Very disappointing.

He chose to skip the banal introduction and, as soon as everyone was seated in the guest room, he immediately began to talk about his cause, without mentioning any of the downsides, of course. The number of times he called himself "king" had already exceeded two dozen within a few minutes of the conversation.

Fina had already at his first proposal preferred to pay more attention to the treats. The magister had a look as if this child's behavior was an everyday occurrence.

Words filled with an extremely strong sense of conceit and unreasonable confidence were cutting to the ear, to say the least. And instead of listening to his speech, I decided to study the personality for which I had come to Essos.

The young girl's gaze never left my figure and was filled with anticipation. She looked at me with such awe and intrigue, as if she had met someone significant in the history of this world. What was remarkable was that her threads of destiny were even thicker than John's. I believe she has a very difficult road ahead of her.

- "... and I will shower you with gifts as soon as the usurper loses his head," the child finished his tirade and looked at me, frowning his eyebrows, "Are you listening to me, magician?"

- "Of course," I nodded, "But I never heard your name, and neither did your companion."

- "Oh, I suppose you are right. My name is Viserys Targaryen, rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, the last dragon," he began, at the last title I raised an eyebrow, and then Viserys pointed at the girl, "And this is my sister, Daenerys Targaryen."

Hmm... He only mentioned her name, and didn't mention the Magister at all. I take it he's only concerned with himself.

And "the last dragon"? That's a little cocky for my taste. Both Daenerys and Jon have dragon blood in their veins, so the title is unwarranted.

The next moment, I felt a look filled with puzzlement, and turning in his direction, I saw that it came from Fina.

At first, my mind was bewildered by the look I was receiving, and my hand went up to probe my face for something eye-catching. As it turned out, my eyebrows were furrowed. At first I didn't understand why, but later the realization came to me. I was experiencing a feeling that was simultaneously distant but close at the same time... irritation.....

This child was able to cause me to feel irritation. And in this world, that's a first...

How... funny...

- "Nice to meet you," I said and looked at him, "May I ask what happens after you sit on the Iron Throne?"

- "Of course, I will get rid of all the traitors and minions of the usurper," he answered instantly, "Their castles will be burned to the ground and their names will be erased from history. And those loyal to my family will be made golden and given their lands. And so will you, magician, if you join me. Why do you call yourself that, by the way? Don't people like you call themselves "sorcerers"?"

- "Indeed," Illyrio nodded and looked at me cautiously, "Also, there is a rumor going around the city that the son of the recently deceased magister Ordello was assisted by a certain 'magician'. It's you, isn't it?"

I only smiled in response. This made the magister wary and threw a warning glance in the direction of the overconfident child... who ignored it.

- "So you agree to support your king, magician?" Viserys asked.

- "Before I answer your question, there is something else I would like to hear."

- "What else?" He said in an angry tone, "Isn't what I've offered you enough?"

- "How will you deal with ordinary people? Will there be any changes for them?" I decided to ask him one last time, giving his personality one last chance.

- "What's wrong with them? The commoners will be happy to see their rightful king on the throne, won't they?"

I rubbed my temples in realization of the hopelessness of this child.

Of course, it's foolish to expect every king of the medieval era to understand the importance of the common people. But this particular specimen is basically clueless about the conduct of managerial affairs.

- "What's that expression on your face, magician?" he asked, "Are you not satisfied with what I said? You dare to show your displeasure right in the face of your king?"

This tone is very similar to that of the King of Heroes from Solomon's memories. But where Gilgamesh wanted a bright future for his people and had great power to back up his words and intentions, this hopeless child has nothing.

- "You are not a king. Much less mine." I answered and closed my eyes.

- "What?" he froze, giving me an incomprehensible look.

- "You're not a king," I repeated, "and you never will be."

- "How dare you-"

He couldn't finish his outrage, for his voice had left him under the influence of my magic. His eyes went wide, and his hands began to frantically touch his throat. His mouth opened and closed, and his efforts to let out at least some sound were visible. And his face was drawn with shock and fear from not understanding the situation.

The Magister stirred, his eyes darting between me and the child. Fina smirked, and Daenerys stared at me, as if sensing something. I suppose she's as magically gifted as Jon, too. But it's time to get back to the baby.

- "All people have flaws. The smart ones know about them and try to fix them, and the great ones turn them into advantages. You're a flawed human being. You don't see your mistakes, so you don't try to do anything about them. As a person, you're completely hopeless. And frankly, this is the first time I've met someone like you... The first time I've met someone as worthless as you."

-0-

Daenerys Targaryen. Pentos.

There was silence in the room after the magician's words. My brother stared at him with unblinking eyes, I realized, trying to make sense of his words. The magister looked wary and furtively glanced at the guest and at his brother. The girl accompanying the magician was grinning merrily.

And I... I didn't know what to do. On the one hand, there was some truth in the magician's words. Brother really doesn't think about what he does, and sometimes his decisions raise questions. At least for now.

I clearly remember how kind and considerate he used to be. He was fun to play with and a kind smile was always present on his face. But at some point, things started to change. And now he's... like this.

On the other hand, he's still my brother. And I, as his sister, have to support him. Family is important, and we're the only Targaryens left. If my brother somehow disappears, what will become of me? I shudder to even think about it.

As I pondered how I should react to the scene before me, my brother came out of his stupor. A second later, he grabbed the sword lying next to him and lunged at the magician. Anger burned in his eyes and a grin formed on his face.

I closed my eyes to avoid seeing the blood so close to me. But the cry of pain didn't echo through the room, and the smell of blood didn't reach my nose. Instead, my hearing picked up the clang of steel, as if two swords had slammed into each other. Finding my courage, I opened my eyes and saw what made my eyes and mouth open wide.

The sword my brother had used to cut the man down had been stopped by his index finger. The magician was nonchalantly looking at his brother and didn't look the least bit concerned.

At the same time, the brother was very stunned. He tried to press harder, causing the veins on his hands to swell and his face to tense up, but the man showed no reaction. The fingers of his right hand still remained motionless even though he made no effort.

At some point, the magician slowly withdrew his finger, and then touched the blade at the same pace. From this seemingly simple and unhurried action, his brother flew off into the wall with the speed of an arrow and a force comparable to a hammer hitting an anvil, causing the sound of his body hitting it to echo through the room.

He dropped his sword and slowly slid to the floor with a look of pain on his face, but no sound came out of his mouth, and then he coughed and spat out some blood.

- "Brother!" I shouted excitedly and ran up to him to check his condition.

When my hand touched his shoulder, he groaned silently and gave me a fuzzy look. His eyes were bloodshot, making the amethyst-colored pupil almost invisible. All of his movements were slow and accompanied by a shiver of weakness and infirmity, as if his time would soon come.

As I anxiously examined my brother and wondered how I could help, my hearing caught the soft sound of footsteps heading our way. And a second later felt a presence at my back.

- "Your sister genuinely cares for you, even though her concern is unrequited. Family is important, and unfortunately, you don't realize that. Perhaps I could ignore all of this and let you live," a voice came from behind me, and the next moment I felt a surge of strange energy that sent a wave of strange heat through my body, "But in that case, how many lives will you destroy? How many innocents will be forced to suffer because of your actions? I can't let that happen."

I slowly turned towards the voice, and the first thing that caught my attention was an ornate sword that seemed to be almost entirely inlaid with gold with inlays the color of pure sky, and on its blade were carved some inscriptions in a language unknown to me.

But it was the blade that my eyes were focused on, as it flashed with golden light every now and then. And my senses reacted to those flashes, suggesting something... It was as if I were standing in front of someone higher than others. Before one who is capable of leading all... A symbol of power and leadership... A King.

- "The sword in my hand bears the name Caliburn: Golden Sword of Destined Victory and the title Sword of Selection. It is a sword that chooses its wielder, a king capable of leading his people, and the phrase to activate it has the words, 'Cut through the wicked,'" the magician began, raising the sword horizontally in front of his eyes as if to examine it, then looked at his brother, "At this moment, he wishes to do just that. Don't worry, I'll make it quick and painless."

I... I have to do something!

-0-

Fina. Pentos.

Throughout the entire conversation, I just wanted to shut up the Targaryen prince who fancied himself as someone higher and more important than my lord. And when Lord Solomon slammed that lowlife into the wall, a wave of pleasure rippled through my body. The Magister, on the other hand, didn't move and was just trying not to cast a shadow so he wouldn't be next.

- "No!" the princess shrieked, standing up in front of her foolish brother and blocking my lord's path, "Please don't do this!"

I grinned.

If my lord's decision was up to me, this buffoon would have been dead after his first sentence.

I understand my lord is more interested in the Targaryen princess than in her brother, which is understandable. That pompous cockroach called himself "king" in front of someone who really is, as I have learned. And even in my dreams, I can't imagine a situation in which the trash protected by her sister at the moment sits on the throne.

- "Hmm?" My lord rumbled, "Why are you defending him? I'm sure you've suffered from his actions as well, haven't you?"

- "I... I know my brother probably deserved it, but... he's the only family member I have left... I... don't want to be alone..." the princess began, glancing at her brother, "He wasn't always like this. Please don't kill him."

- "But you do realize how that might turn out, Daenerys Targaryen, don't you? His mind has gone mad. The very thing that made the Mad King "mad." How many innocents are you willing to doom for the sake of your selfishness?" Raising an eyebrow, my lord asked.

- "I..."

- "And one more thing. Viserys Targaryen is not your only living relative."

- "What?" the princess froze and looked at my lord in surprise.

- "And he-"

- "You-" My lord was interrupted by the jester's hoarse voice, which made my rage begin to boil inside me, "Do you really... believe... this sorcerer? He can... lie... I... am... the king...."

- "You have the audacity to interrupt my lord and accuse him of lying, despicable?" I growled, stepping closer to the disputants. At my words and the emotion on his face, the jester jumped and fell back.

- "I am only telling the truth," my lord shook his head and stroked my head, causing a wave of calm to pass through my mind, "And your sister could be a far more competent king."

Then Lord Solomon stuck his sword into the floor in front of the princess in a measured motion and looked at her.

- "Try to pull it out, Daenerys Targaryen. - If you do, your brother's fate will be in your hands, not mine."

She looked at him suspiciously, but after a few seconds of thought, she still grabbed both hands on the hilt of the sword with both hands and tried to pull it out. She really put all the strength in her slender hands, but the sword wouldn't budge.

- "Come on! Come out, you bloody piece of iron!" she shouted with an effort in her voice, and drops of sweat began to gather on her face, and then almost in a whisper she added, "Please...."

The next moment, the unexpected happened. No, of course she didn't pull out the sword, but I could see a tiny twitch in the ground where the blade was stuck. So much so that unless one was paying full attention to it, it was impossible to pick up on such a thing.

This shift in the blade's position was not noticed by the princess herself, unlike my lord. Seeing this, the edge of his mouth smiled, showing that he was pleased. And without me spending quite a decent amount of time with him already, it would have gone unnoticed.

But the fact remains, the princess was able to impress Lord Solomon.

How... interesting...

-0-

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[mirzael]

Daenerys Targaryen.
One month later.

- "Wrong! One more time!" said the woman sitting across from me in a stern voice, "That look on your face shows weakness in front of your opponent, and he's bound to take advantage of it. More confidence, girl!"

- "Yes, Your Majesty!" I answered loudly and tried to do as she asked.

- "I am a teacher now, girl. It's time to remember that."

- "I apologize!" I apologized and bowed my head.

- "Don't bow your head to others, even if that 'someone' is the ruler!"

- "I apologize!" I apologized again and somehow managed to stop my head from bowing.

- "Hmmm," she hummed, which I was used to seeing and hearing by now.

Me and the teacher were having a lesson sitting on the veranda of the master's villa. This had already become a routine in my life. A month ago, when I still failed to draw my sword as Lord Solomon had requested and I thought my brother's life was lost, he only smiled and gently stroked my sweat-wet face.

He said that was enough and I could relax and let me choose my brother's fate. But in doing so, gave me the choice to either banish or kill. Seeing no opportunity to offer my option or no option at all, with a heavy heart, I chose the former.

After Lord Solomon's words, certain thoughts crept into my head. Thoughts of how right he was. I had seen with my own eyes how my brother treated everyone. Including me. But deep down, a tiny part of me still wanted him to stay, even though I knew it was impossible.

He was insane, just as my father had been before he died. And the time before the exile revealed that to me in full. My brother screamed and demanded to be released and to bow down before him. Each time he added "dragon" and "king". Once I looked into his eyes, I saw how brightly the flames of madness burned in them. And I just accepted it. Eventually, my brother was banished from the city with a small bag of golden dragons.

The Magister, after the events at his villa, simply bowed before me and swore allegiance to me. Just as he had done to my brother years before. And I, not knowing what to do, simply accepted his oath. I understood his actions, for he had no other choice. And he was still loyal to the Targaryens. So I put the matter aside, since nothing had changed.

For the first week after my brother's banishment, nothing happened. Lord Solomon became a frequent visitor here at the Master's villa and just talked about various things.

One day I asked why he was so interested in me, to which I received, "I've mentioned it before, haven't I?". At first I didn't understand what he meant, and it wasn't until later the very next day that it came to me, "He wants to make a queen out of me." Which I questioned him about afterwards.

But Lord Solomon corrected my guess. He doesn't want me to be a queen, but that I MAY become one, and then reminded me of that awkward attempt to pull out the sword. As it turned out, the sword had moved a bit, which confirmed his hunch. I just stared at him uncertainly, because I couldn't understand how any sword, even an unusual one, could do such a thing, even though I had heard the description of this piece of iron.

Then he asked me the same questions he had asked my brother, and asked me to answer them honestly, which I did. And after the questions, Lord Solomon asked me, with a slight smile on his face, "Do I want to be queen?" to which I nodded uncertainly, for a Targaryen should be on the throne, not some usurper.

After that conversation, he didn't visit me for a week. I thought his interest in me was over, but after a week of silence, he came back, saying I needed training if I was to be queen. And he didn't come back alone, but with a man and a woman.

The man had youthful facial features, white hair, yellow eyes, and a dark skin tone. The clothes he was wearing were strange. He wore a shirt, pants, and boots of the same color - black. And around his neck was some sort of cross on a chain. The man introduced himself as "Amakusa Shiro Tokisada" and was also modest and accommodating. A rather odd name and hard to pronounce, besides. And, all in all, he looked ordinary if it wasn't for his clothes, name, and hair, but the woman...

When I first saw her, envy flared up in my heart. The woman's appearance was perfect. Breasts, waist, face, hair, outfit, everything.

Long, sleek and black as night, her hair flowed behind her. Golden eyes showing confidence and mystery. Her refined and well-groomed skin seemed to glow in the sun, and her black, majestic and extremely beautiful dress created a contrast to her pale skin that was simply eye-catching.

Also, there was one oddity about her appearance - her ears. They were long, pointed, and definitely inhuman. But this did not spoil the beauty of the woman in any way, but only added to her image of mystery and enigma.

My envy was not only directed at the woman's appearance, but also her presence. Just looking at her, my mind firmly believed that in front of me stood a queen. Wise, majestic, and unbridled. Lord Solomon's presence inspired roughly the same feeling, but weaker and more insignificant than his. If he was a majestic dragon, then she was, how shall I put it, a baby dragon? Something like that, I suppose.

She called herself Semiramis, Queen of Assyria, which I instantly believed, though I didn't know the land by that name, or what she was doing here in Essos. And now, the queen of lands unfamiliar to me was teaching me how to behave in front of my subjects.

Though she was sarcastic, arrogant, and petulant, she made a teacher out of her... quite a pleasant one. Her Majesty was strict but fair. She would make snide comments towards me, thus encouraging me to learn. A strange method of teaching, but effective, I'd say.

Shiro, Queen Semiramis, and Lord Solomon alternated between teaching me several subjects I didn't know the names of initially. They taught me math, science, psychology, art, military tactics and strategy, philosophy, and economics. They even included exercise in the, as they put it, curriculum, which came as a surprise to me.

When you add it all up, I had virtually no free time, which is disintegrating to say the least. Although I do understand the benefit and necessity of their training.

- "Your attention is scattered," my teacher interrupted my thoughts, "It's only noon and you're already tired?"

- "No," I shook my head, "It's just... memories coming back."

- "Hmm," she chuckled again, "So there won't be a next time, okay?"

I nodded quickly and went back to my lesson, trying not to make her unhappy.

- "Uh-uh. Go easy on her, Semi," Shiro said in a soothing tone from a chair inside the room, "Not even a month into her training and you're already cutting her without a knife."

- "Shut up, Shiro," the teacher waved her off, "She wants to be a queen, and I'm teaching her to be one. Besides, we don't have as much time as we'd like, as the ring bearer told us. Where is he, by the way? He didn't just dump all his work on us and now he's doing nothing, did he?"

- "Lord Solomon is visiting his friend, Semi. And please don't speak ill of him. He's older than you and deserves the respect inherent in his figure."

- "Tsk. That doesn't make my words any less right," she said with a cluck of her tongue and squinted her eyes, "And you called me old, Shiro? You want to try my poisons again, hmm?"

- "No, no," Shiro wrapped his head quickly, "I mean, he lived before you, my love. And you're still as beautiful as ever, even at your age."

- "You're sleeping separately for the next week," the teacher said quickly, and the man grimaced. Seeing this scene, I couldn't help but giggle, and I got a squint from Her Majesty, "And I'll extend our lesson, girl. You can't make fun of the queen, you understand?"

At her words, I huffed as much as Shiro and nodded defeatedly.

Sometimes a teacher can be overly vindictive.

-0-

Eddard Stark. Winterfell.

- "Are you sure about this, Jon?" I asked, rubbing my temples.

- "Yes, Lord Stark," he nodded, "I think the time has come, and I know where I should go."

I sighed tiredly.

The entire Stark family had come out to see Jon off, since he had decided to go to the Wall and, as I understand it, not to join the Night's Watch, but for something else. I already knew this was going to happen, since Solomon had hinted at it, but it's still pretty hard to accept, given my promise to Lyanna.

And even Cat, who kept a neutral expression on her face, came out to see him off, which I was surprised at, to say the least.

Lady Kinvara visited her from time to time and had long conversations with her. Occasionally my ears would pick up cries of outrage from my wife, but later they would subside into silence. To my questioning glance, both Cat and Lady Kinvara either answered nothing or said it was girl talk.

But I did notice a change after these "girlie" conversations. The amount of ravens that Cat sent to Eagle's Nest and King's Landing decreased by leaps and bounds. She became more reserved and sometimes a bit thoughtful, and her typical attitude towards Jon turned into a neutral one.

Cat even began to actively socialize with the other inhabitants of Winterfell, either just chatting about this and that or just observing them. In other words, she began to act more openly. The changes I've noticed include a break in the distance between her and the septa Mordane, who was already disliked by practically the entire castle. I wonder what her conversations with Lady Kinvara consisted of?

About ten months ago, when I needed to deal with a deserter who had escaped from the Night's Watch, we came across a clutch of direwolf pups on our way back to Winterfell. Their mother had been killed and was lying breathless in front of the shelter where the pups were hiding. She was most likely protecting them with her life, but unfortunately she failed.

There was an oddity about the puppies. The number of puppies, to be exact. There were exactly six of them. Exactly the same number as the children. Of course, the children took them with them, one for each of them. A sign from the gods, I suppose, since the symbol of House Stark is the direwolf.

There have been many changes in the last year. My men managed to infiltrate King's Landing and take over a small tavern. And the news they brought me was not happy.

First, the debt of the crown. It is exorbitant and continues to grow. I know how extravagant Robert can be, but I doubt it's that much. Six million gold dragons, for crying out loud! And as it turns out, he's not the only one contributing to this crisis.

As it turns out, the money is indeed allocated by order of the king, but how much is another matter. The tournament that Robert had organized relatively recently was definitely not worth thirty thousand dragons. Its maximum cost is fifteen thousand, which is half of the allocated amount. Someone steals and appropriates the excess, using only the bare minimum.

And as if that weren't enough, word comes of John Arryn's death. I understand the assassination attempt was a success, with the Lannisters the only suspects on my mind.

This is confirmed by information from the Red Servants who managed to get into the ranks of the servants of the Red Keep. According to them, the Queen and her brother were not surprised by the news. Robert was surprised, but not them. And now, the King is coming here to Winterfell to offer me the position of Hand, apparently.

I understand his motives. He wants to bring those he trusts closer to him, but the problem is where. Even before I met Solomon and was told what a den of snakes the capital is, and now I think it's even worse. The funny thing is, I can't refuse Robert's call. He is, after all, the king.

Really, I'm relieved at the thought that I won't be blind in that unfortunate place. After all, both the Red Men and my own will give me support.

But it's time to get back to the present.

All the children took turns coming up to Jon and hugging him goodbye, wishing him a good journey and a return. Arya, with Fou sitting on her head, took a particularly long time to say goodbye to her brother, which is understandable as Jon was the closest of siblings to her. Robb was the last of the children to go to say goodbye.

- "When you come back, we'll cross swords again," Robb said with a smile on his face and hugged Jon, "and I'll win."

- "I'm sure you will." Jon smiled back.

When Robb moved away, I came over and put my hand on his shoulder and smiled softly.

- "Be careful, Jon. The Night's Watch isn't what it used to be. Murderers, rapists, traitors, and a lot of other people like that are sent there."

- "Okay," he nodded.

I wrapped my arms around him, and after a while I let him go and stepped back:

- "Go on, Jon. I hope you'll send letters at least once in a while."

He nodded once more and, after giving us all a parting glance, walked out of the castle gates, followed by the now matured lute wolf pup, who was the size of a large dog. My eyes followed his figure for a while longer, and when it was out of sight, I sighed and looked up at the sky.

I should get ready, too. It's not good to keep the king waiting, even if he definitely decides to stay a day or two.

-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]

Jon Snow. Wolfswood.

After I'd gotten a decent distance away from Winterfell, when it already seemed tiny, I stopped and took a deep breath of the forest's scent.

Even knowing that an unknown and possibly difficult path awaited me, my soul was calm with a tiny hint of excitement. This is where I met Lord Solomon, and this is where my journey begins. My sword is true to me, as is my magic with the Ghost.

And with one last look around Winterfell, I set off further through the forest towards the Wall.

The Wall. The giant block of ice that shields the people from threats from the deep North. That deserter whom Lord Stark had executed months ago had mentioned the reanimated dead whose eyes shone with blue light.

And when I heard this, my Origin, which I had learned to activate at will, revealed something. This deserter was not lying. His eyes, the pounding of his heart, and his hands trembling with fear confirmed it. Which meant that an ancient evil had begun to awaken in the North beyond the Wall.

In the past, I would have considered such thoughts delusional, but not anymore. In one of the lectures given by Lord Solomon, he talked about the Mystery.

If people believe that the subject of mystery "exists", the World allows it to exist. And certain concepts do not require specific beliefs of existence.

This directly applies to the very reanimated dead, who are similar in description to the White Walkers. While most people don't believe in their existence, the very idea, "Maybe they do exist" is alive, at least here in the North.

Even the ancient texts of the Stark family directly hints at it, which is already enough for this "Mystery" to arise. Which means that the world itself allows for the existence of the White Walkers. My goal is to investigate this incident, and maybe I can get to the bottom of it. At least, I hope so.

Suddenly, my body stopped and my eyes began to intently study my surroundings. The ghost, noticing this, looked at me in bewilderment.

I noticed a broken branch by one of the trees ten meters away from me, and there were no extra footprints in the snow. Or rather, at first glance. The thickness of the snow cover was different in a couple places, indicating that they were camouflaged.

My Origin not only gives me a high learning speed, but it also increases my perception. A very useful thing, as Lord Solomon put it, in which I agree with him. After all, if my attention isn't too spread out, it's almost impossible to catch me off guard. And judging by the details in front of me, there are several opponents.

- "Come out," I said in a monotone, my hand on the hilt of my sword, "I know you're here."

There was only silence in response. It didn't last long, for a few seconds later, three men appeared from behind the trees. They were wearing clothes made of various animal skins. And not far from us, my hearing picked up movement, and with a quick glance in its direction, I saw a black-haired woman aiming a bow at me.

Wildlings.

They surrounded me on three sides with weapons in their hands, now and then casting predatory glances at me.

- "Oh? We've got some pretty smart prey here," said a wildling with a savage grin on his face, a rough-looking man with a spear in his hand, "lost, boy?"

- "Look, he even has his own tame wolf." Another with a sword added, at which Ghost bared his fangs and growled.

- "Our first outing, and only one sucker? Not enough prey for all of us." said the last one with the axe.

They certainly don't take me seriously. They looked to be about twenty to twenty-five years old. And this is probably one of their first forays. Their grip on weapons is stiff and amateurish, as Ser Rodrik would put it, and I think Robb would have no trouble dealing with them.

I smirked, and the excitement in my blood ignited a giant fire.

So did I.

- "First foray?" I began, extending the Durandal's blade slightly with a noticeable clicking sound, "But how did you get here bypassing the Wall? I assume you had an escort, and I would be very grateful if you could take me to him."

If I can meet him and get his services as a guide, I can avoid the Night's Watch. This method is much quicker and easier than the last one.
- "We'll take you to him," the one with the spear smirked and began to approach me, "Piece by piece."

The next moment, he lunged toward me, aiming his spear at my throat. Waiting until the distance between me and the wildling was no more than a couple of meters, I ducked under his spear in one swift movement and, pulling out Durandal, slashed at his weapon arm, applying Strengthening to my body. My sword cut through the wildling's bone and flesh like butter, and his arm and spear flew off to the side, splattering blood all around.

- "Aggh!" he cried out in pain and fell to the ground.

Seeing this, the other two and looking amongst themselves, attacked me from both sides. The distance between us was about ten meters, and while the two wildlings ran towards me, the woman fired two consecutive arrows, which I managed to repel with Durandal.

That short action let the two wildlings get to me. I parried the sword strike, redirecting it toward the other wildling, who was clearly not expecting it. Since the one with the sword had definitely put all his strength into the blow, his redirected blade slammed into his ally's shoulder, losing almost no momentum.

In the end, they both ended up disoriented. The first from surprise and the second from pain, who also fell to the ground holding his wounded shoulder.

Taking advantage of this, Durandal stabbed the sword-wielding wildling in the throat with one precise move, and the next one blew off the head of the last wildling next to me.

I quickly shifted my gaze to the last member of their group that had begun to flee, and moved after her. The surviving wildling with the spear was definitely no longer a threat, but the woman could call for reinforcements. She would have been able to do so if it hadn't been for Ghost jumping out in front of her, blocking her path and growling at her.

Since the distance between us wasn't that great, I reached her quickly, and the wildling shifted her gaze between Ghost and me, clutching her bow taut with an arrow. The woman's breathing quickened and panic danced in her eyes. What was surprising was that I couldn't sense her fear.

- "Put the bow down, wildling," I said slowly, putting the Durandal back into its scabbard, "I just want to get beyond the Wall, not kill."

- "Оh? How unexpected. And the fact that you've already killed those two doesn't count, admirer?" The woman sarcastically remarked, still aiming at me and Ghost.

- "It was self-defense," I replied as politely as possible, "You seem much smarter than your colleagues. But then again, I need to get beyond the Wall, feral. And I swear I won't touch you or anyone else without a solid reason."

- "Not 'wildling' but 'free woman', admirer," she said grudgingly, "And why should I believe you? You can kill me and the guide once you're beyond the Wall."

- "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead already, freewoman," I said, and then pointed a finger at Durandal, "But my blade is in its sheath, isn't it?"

The woman was silent in response, and after a few seconds of staring in my direction, she clucked her tongue rather loudly and lowered her bow, to which I sighed in relief, and Ghost stepped around her and stood beside me.

- "You seriously want to believe him, Mara?!" came the voice of the wildling I'd cut off his arm. As I turned, I saw him moving slowly toward us, holding onto the stump of his arm, "Are you crazy?!"

- "Shut up!" she shouted back, "As if I had a choice, damn it!"

- "You... traitor! I knew I shouldn't have listened to the old witch's ravings and taken you along, you bloody whore!"

The old witch? I guess I'll have to ask about that later, but for now...

Just as I was about to intervene, the woman raised her bow and shot at the armless man, hitting him right between the eyes. When I saw that, my eyes widened in surprise, and then went in the direction of the shooter. She just snorted in a feminine way and slung the bow over her shoulder.

- "He's been wanting to fuck me for a while now, and he's been pestering me. Good riddance," she hissed, spitting in his direction, and then turned and headed off into the woods. But when she noticed that neither I nor Ghost were moving, she stopped and gave us a disgruntled look, "Are you coming or not, admirer? I'm not going to wait for next winter, or for blocks of ice to sprout in your head."

- "And... I'm coming..." I managed to squeeze out an answer and followed her along with Ghost.

For the first time in my life, I didn't know what to say. This woman is so unpredictable and unusual that my mind just goes into a stupor. And frankly, I find that feeling quite... entertaining.

Slowly walking and staring at her back, I rubbed my chin thoughtfully.

- "Stop staring at my ass, admirer," she said in a disgruntled tone without turning around, "It's not for you to color."

In response, I just froze for a moment, and then lowered my head in embarrassment.

Yes, really entertaining...

-0-

Solomon. Pentos.

I was sitting in Halon's office, twirling a glass of wine in my hand while the owner of the room himself was sorting through a mountain of papers, which made the sound of pen scribbling on paper echo through the room.

Semiramis of Assyria and Amakusa Shiro Tokisada, or Shiro Kotomine. Two Servants, the first called to this world. Just remembering their arrival brought a cheerful smile to my face.

If for the Queen of Assyria to see me as Master was a mild surprise, it was different for the priest of the Christian faith. He immediately knelt down and greeted me solemnly, and the fires of deep respect and adoration burned in his eyes.

I guess it's normal to meet your idol, huh? Although I am not the original Solomon, but a Pseudo-Servant, as Shiro himself had informed me.

As it turned out, both he and Semiramis remembered the time in Chaldea when the King of Israel lived as a human being in the form of Roman Archaman. And the news that he was already living his third life in this uncharted world outside the jurisdiction of Akasha was indeed a surprise to them. And while Semiramis only shrugged in her usual character, Shiro was genuinely happy about it.

After outlining the situation to them, they were not opposed to the idea of training the young girl. Even Semiramis, who found the history of this world and the Targaryen family interesting.

When the question of helping Daenerys came before me, the idea of Servants immediately popped into my head. There was a lot of choice, but I decided to settle on just them.

I needed a Servant who knew how to run a medieval state. Someone who had proven his foresight and competence, as well as being in tune with the realities of this world.

At first I thought of Artoria Pendragon, but given that she hid her gender during her reign, that option fell away. Later I thought of the Queen of Sheba, the one who sought wisdom from Solomon, but her excessive kindness and understanding for this world did not quite fit the current situation.

In the end, my choice was Semiramis. Wise, determined, and deadly. Perfect, even with her history with poisons.

In addition to her, I needed another Servant from more or less modern times. And someone Semiramis could relate to. The answer came quickly in the person of Shiro Kotomine, who had participated in two Grail Wars: one as a Servant and the other as a Master. A Servant educated in modern science and having a romantic relationship with Semiramis. Perfect.

As I strayed into my memories, my hearing caught the clearly tired voice of Halon, who took a short break.

- "So, are you leaving?" He asked, draining his glass.

- "Right," I nodded, "I need to visit Braavos. The tales of the Black and White House interested me."

- "Given your proximity to the Red Faith, I suppose your interest is understandable."

His black circles under his eyes spoke of fatigue, and the amount of paper on his desk hadn't changed. Given his plans for Pentos, though, this had become a routine for him, eh?

- "By the way, how's your case going?" I asked.

- "Pretty good. Thanks to Illyrio Mopatis' support, I have two-thirds of the city's power in my hands now," Halon shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "Changing established traditions isn't easy. However, in a year or two it will all work out, I think."

- "I understand the last magister is resisting?"

- "Not exactly. He's just bidding up the price. Farid is the most insignificant of the three magisters. He's willing to sell out his family for a large coin. The last time we spoke, we agreed on a sum that would see him hand over his power to me and leave the city."

- "Hmm?"

- "He realizes he has no other choice. It's either that or be replaced. So Farid wants to make the most of the situation."

- "I understand," I said and, putting my glass on the table, got up from my seat, "See you later, Halon. I still have to say goodbye to the other people."

- "Of course," he nodded, "Have a good trip."

The next moment I disappeared from his office, back to the Red Temple.

I suppose little Fina will be a little upset, won't she?

-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]

Eddard Stark. Winterfell.

Robert and I were in the crypt and standing in front of a statue of Lyanna. He does this every time he visits Winterfell, which further proves that he was obsessed with her.

- "I loved her, Ned," Robert said simply, looking at the statue, "Until the bitch dragon stole her from me."

Not quite. Now that I can look at the situation from several angles, I can say it wasn't exactly love. Lyanna was defying the odds. She believed that only herself would dictate her life, which is what caught Robert's attention.

All ladies are the same and similar. Embroidery, pretty talk, long dresses, modesty, helpfulness and the like were considered the norm. The only exceptions were a few, like those born on Bear Island, well, or Lyanna and Arya. They weren't afraid to speak their minds in front of anyone. Their voice was loud and clear.

That was what drew Robert to them. She was the white crow in a sea of her black sisters. Lianna was just another land for him to conquer. A jewel he wanted to keep to himself alone.

A trophy.

And I can see that clearly now. And he's fixated on her because he's never seen another woman like her. Beautiful, strong, exuberant and fun. Leanna saw that and that's why she made a different choice.

I sighed tiredly and rubbed my temples.

Such a headache.

- "Hmm? What's with all the sighing? Tired of your king?" Robert raised an eyebrow at my actions.

- "Just remembering what's happened over the past few years." I shook my head.

- "Oh, by the way, who was that sorcerer living in your castle?"

"Lived"? So someone informed him of Solomon's departure. And it worries me that my men have no idea who's taking the information beyond Winterfell's walls.

- "He saved Jon three years ago, and I took him in return."

- "And when did you find out he was a sorcerer?"

- "The first time we spoke, he admitted it himself. Besides, he calls himself a 'Magician', not a 'sorcerer'."

- "One's shit or the other," Robert dismissed, then looked at me, "John's dead, and I need someone I can trust. King's Landing is a cesspool of snakes, rats, and similar pests, but I'm the fucking king and I need to be there."

I chose to remain silent.

- "Now I need your help. As a friend, and as Hand. Do you accept that position, Eddard Stark?"

Sighing tiredly to myself, I got down on one knee in front of him.

Southwind, eh? Well, at least now I'm looking wider and also have eyes and ears there. I wonder how quickly I'll become the next assassination target?

- "Yes, Your Majesty."

- "Good!" Robert said contentedly, "Now that that's done with, let's go upstairs. I'm thirsty!"

-0-

Sansa Stark. Winterfell.

- "What a shithole," Prince Joffrey grinned, looking around. "And you live here, my lady?"

- "Yes, my prince." I nodded, and that was the end of it.

- "The King's Landing is much more elegant. It smells disgusting, though." He added, to which I only nodded silently.

After the royal entourage had settled into Winterfell, the prince called me out for a walk to show me around. He didn't call me, but ordered me to.

I used to think it was every lady's dream to find a prince, marry him, and live in a castle, but now? Only the last point makes sense, and not always.

Lady Kinvara and Lord Solomon have enlightened me, opened my eyes to the truth, and most importantly, taught me to observe and study. 'A prince is not someone to take the throne, but someone to be happy with.'

Understanding.

The meaning of this very word is the thread between the lady and the 'prince'. He understands her and she understands him.
Acceptance.

And the meaning of this is the knot that binds the lady and the 'prince' together. Only by accepting each other's essence will they achieve happiness.

And now, looking at the prince walking beside me, I can clearly see what he is. What his essence is.

Smug, vain and stupid.

Just being around him makes me feel disgusted. After talking to him for a bit, it's clear to me that he's 'empty', as Lady Kinvara liked to put it. But she also added that 'pacifiers' can become 'useful tools'. And the more meaningful, the more useful.

I threw a brief glance at the prince as he looked disdainfully at the people around him, then nodded to myself.

He will be useful.

A few days ago, father shared his speculation about the reason for the royal family's arrival. The king wants to make him Hand, replacing the recently deceased Jon Arryn and putting someone he trusts in that position. Which means his father will have to leave Winterfell and come to King's Landing. A place that, according to Lady Kinvara, is entirely filled with 'snakes' and 'rats'. Most likely, the king will want us to go with father as well. Arya and I, to be exact. To ingratiate us into high society and find us a mate.

If that's the case, we'll need protection. Father will be busy working as Hand, and the men of Winterfell will be very few compared to the gold cloaks. And the prince will be perfect for the role. His inattention and foolishness will only serve him well.

Father has subtly hinted that the previous Hand has been killed, which means we could be the next targets. But if I can influence the prince to protect us, the chance of an assassination attempt will be much lower.

And I'm concerned about the lack of information. I don't know the environment or the inhabitants of Red Castle. I can't flag potentially dangerous individuals, which means I can't prepare countermeasures. I'll have to navigate on the spot and probe the ground on my own.

I sighed tiredly and fiddled with the tiny pendant around my neck. A small sapphire on a thin silver chain.

- "A gift, my lady?" The prince asked, noticing my actions, "It looks simple and ungainly. Not as bright and beautiful as the ones I have."

- "Yes," I nodded, "It was given to me by a Magician who lived in Winterfell for a time. He said it could save me if I got into trouble."

- "Hmph," the prince snorted, "What nonsense is that? How can a pendant save your life? It sounds like the ravings of a madman."

- "Perhaps it is, my prince. But I do believe it," I said, smiling softly and charmingly, then glanced at the sword on his belt. "You are a swordsman? I suppose you are skilled at it."

- "Yes," he said smugly, cocking his chin and lifting the scabbard, at which I mentally rolled my eyes, "Even Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, said I was a genius."

- "I will keep that in mind, my prince."

After a while, we came across Arya and her friend practicing on the riverbank. A rather ordinary sight, you might say. Thanks to Lord Solomon, the younger sister was finally allowed to train in the sword arts. She had trained alongside Robb and Jon until the latter left Winterfell.

She now held a rather short stick, compared to Mika. It was about the length of the dagger Lord Solomon had given her, and which she had been practicing with. A simple looking blade with a hilt as long as my palm and a half, but without a guard. And Arya treasured it. I even remember catching her sleeping with it in her arms.

After parrying Mika's blow and knocking the stick out of his hands, she smiled triumphantly and began to bawl. At this I sighed tiredly, already used to her antics.

-0-

Arya Stark. Winterfell.

That was my fifth win in a row! But I must say, Mycah is a weak opponent. Much weaker than Robb or Jon when we were practicing with wooden swords.

Robb preferred a two-handed sword so he could inherit the Ice later. His blows were slow but powerful. I took advantage of my short stature and the length of my dagger, in our sparring sessions. And I even managed to win! Once...

John I beat more, as he always gave in to me, even when I asked him not to. And I don't think I would have won, as both he and I preferred speed over strength.

I'm still sad that he's gone, but I'll see him again, so I'm not discouraged. At least not in a strong way. Not like Sansa does when thinking of Lord Solomon. Has she gotten too... serious over the years? Yes, I think so. At least she's thankful she's not grumpy like mom. I couldn't have survived two moms.

While I was distracted by the memories, I heard footsteps approaching. Turning my head, I saw the prince accompanied by Sansa.

Her face was calm with a soft smile on it, but I knew she wasn't. Whenever she was annoyed or displeased, her right pinky finger would bend slightly inward in her palm, almost half the maximum possible bend.

I wonder if it was because of the prince? Most likely, yes. I don't know why, but he strikes me as silly and... pompous? Almost like the rooster that Mika's father sometimes butchers.

I looked at Sansa with interest, which of course she noticed and pointed at the prince next to her with her eyes.

Aha, so she's annoyed by the prince.

- "My prince." Mika and I greeted him as he and Sansa approached us.

- "Hmph," he snorted and looked at Mika with disdain, "How typical of a commoner to lose to a girl."

Sansa shook her head silently at his words, Mika got upset, and I froze and squinted.

A rooster after all... A rooster prince.

- "Hey!" I exclaimed, deciding to do justice as Lord Solomon's stories taught me, "Even a noble can lose to a wench if there's a difference in skill!"

I felt Sansa's stare, but chose to ignore it.

- "Оh? Shall we test it then?" The prince grinned wickedly and drew his sword, "Raise your sword, my lady."

I silently raised my stick in response, to which he looked surprised.

- "A stick? You mean to insult me?"

- "It will suffice."

The next moment he ran at me with his sword drawn, and just looking at it made me feel sick.

I've always preferred pants and a sword to dresses and embroidery. I really like all that stuff. And I could clearly see at a glance that he wielded the sword at the level of an infant. The grip of the sword in his hands was insecure and weak, which I took advantage of.

When he reached me and swung to strike, I ducked to the side and struck the sword-holding hand with the sharp end of a stick.

- "Agh!" he cried out in pain and dropped his sword, then grasped his sore arm with his healthy one and looked at me angrily, "This is an attack on royalty! You will all be executed for treason!"

- "My prince! Are you all right?!" Sansa asked worriedly, running up to the prince and then standing behind his back, looking at me with anger.
But I knew it was a game. It was as obvious as saying Sansa was in love with Lord Solomon.

We really hadn't gotten along much before, but now? That's still partly true, but both Sansa and I value family more than anything else. And the game? Lady Kinvara had a hand in that. She held long conversations with tedious discussions with me, Mother, and Sansa that, at times, lasted for hours. And I fell asleep after the first minute.

- "What's going on in here?!" came a loud and hard shout from outside.

Turning towards the source, I saw the king and father along with the guards walking towards us. Meeting eyes with Sansa, we both sighed.
I'm going to be punished, huh?

-0-

Solomon. Braavos.

The city smelled of sea and salt, a cool breeze blew through the narrow streets, and the cries of seagulls occasionally interrupted the noise of the crowds. The giant statue of a warrior with sword and shield at the entrance to the port was truly awe-inspiring.

The architecture of the city was very different from Pentos. Instead of sandy and oriental style, here I was met with stone and European style. The city was divided into several islands connected by bridges. The outer part, where the statue stood, consisted of mountains and small woods, while the inner part was already the city itself. They were separated by a water surface, which made it easy to survive a siege.

There were only two ways to get to Braavos: by sea and a single bridge. Because of this, the Dothraki didn't try to capture the city simply because it was impossible. At least for them.

Upon entering the city, I immediately headed in a certain direction. A direction that reeked of mana. And when I got to the source of that mana, I found myself in front of a huge rectangular building that was located on a rocky hill. It was separated from the other islands of Braavos and connected by a single bridge to the Island of the Gods.

The black and white doors that adorned the entrance exuded a mana reminiscent of Weirwood. Which I verified by touching the white door and applying Structural Analysis. The doors were made entirely of Weirwood, which I found very entertaining.

The next moment, the black door slowly opened, and out stepped a man with medium length curly hair, dressed in a long gray robe with a hood pulled over his head. He looked at me and smiled weakly.

- "The man greeted the Magician."

"A man?" Interesting.

- "Were you expecting me?"

- "The Magician is right. The Many-Faced God has alerted the man of his coming," he nodded, "The Magician can come in. The man will answer his questions inside."

- "Thank you." Making a slight bow, I said and walked through the doors opened by the man.

"The Many-Faced God"? His actions are very similar to R'Glor's. Is it a different god or the same one?

How interesting.

-0-

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[mirzael]

Daenerys Targaryen. Pentos.

I stood at the railing of the balcony in Illyrio's mansion and looked out over the city.

Lord Solomon had left Pentos, as reported by a messenger from his friend who is also a magister, and who controls the entire city, even if officially four people, counting the prince, do.

Of course, the teacher threw her hands up in the air at this and snorted loudly, showing her obvious displeasure. Fortunately, Shiro managed to calm her down, which I'm really glad about. When a teacher is teaching a lesson in such a state, she becomes much more strict and aggressive. She even threw an inkwell at me once when she noticed my mistake, which was very minor.

Shiro is much more calm and obliging in this regard. Even when I made a mistake, he would just smile and explain it all over again, in a measured and kind tone. Though, at times, Shiro had a tendency to deviate from the lesson. And to be honest, his stories were a head more interesting than those very lessons. Especially physics, which I disliked.

Sometimes he would talk about his religion, which he follows and which I had never heard of. Instead of the Seven, Red, Many-Faced and so on gods, there was only one. One and all-powerful. He created the earth, the sky, life, and everything around us.

The most interesting thing was that the god Shiro believed in preferred inaction. That is, he valued the freedom of choice that all living beings have, and therefore left fate in their hands. It went against what the red priestesses preached, but I'd never been much into religion.

And in one of those stories he mentioned Lord Solomon's presence, which was odd. His stories were either legends or events from a very long time ago, and Lord Solomon was alive and quite young.

When I asked him how old he was and who he was, Shiro smiled enigmatically and didn't answer. The only thing he said about it was that only Lord Solomon himself could share it. To that, I only pouted, which only irritated Shiro.

Really, I have an inkling. In any conversation where Lord Solomon's name came up, I felt deep respect and even adoration. At first, I thought Lord Solomon was the god Shiro was talking about, which sounded pretty logical given his inhuman appearance, aura, and strength. But in one of the stories, Shiro clearly separated their personalities. Perhaps that would come to light later.

- "He's almost here, Princess," a female voice sounded behind me, "Lady Semiramis and Lord Shiro are already waiting for you at the exit."

- "Good," I nodded and began to change.

Behind me was the red priestess who had accompanied Lord Solomon while he was in Pentos, as she herself had explained to me. Fina now serves me, which was decided by the red temple and approved by me.

The red men are fanatics, which rules out the possibility of betrayal. True, their loyalty is to Lord Solomon, not to me. But he sees some value in me that I do not. I have no army, no lands, no money, just purpose and ambition. And I have no idea why he's helping me. Well, not him, but the teacher and Shiro he brought in.

They are good teachers, yes, but I need military power. Right now, I only have three people I can trust. And that will definitely not be enough to regain the throne.

There is also the matter of my relative. He mentioned one, but he didn't tell me who it was, or where it was. And I'm wondering, is there really only one? Could there be more?

But all that can be put aside for later and focus on the case. My "husband" has arrived, the Khal to whom my brother promised to hand me over as a bargaining chip. And I must decide what to do with him.

I can't just send him away. Or rather, to pass up such an opportunity would be the decision of a "feeble-minded idiot," as my teacher liked to put it. He has an army. Huge and well-armed.

I realize that Westeros is very different from Essos. This can include: climate, equipment, geographical location, flora and fauna, and a host of other factors. But the main problem is ships and castles.

The Dothraki have no siege weapons, no navigators. They know nothing about shipbuilding, sieges, or naval combat. They are nomadic peoples traveling all over Essos who have not the slightest need to engage in such things. At least not by sea.

Oh, and their horse-based religion discourages all of them. According to their superstitions, sea water is poison, as their sacred animals cannot drink it.

They see no need for siege training, as they have enough food and gold as it is. And capturing a city only makes sense if you want to settle in it and use its resources.

But there's one but...

There's a lot of them.

And to miss such an opportunity, although not ideal, I really would be a weak-minded idiot. The only thing left to do is to get them on my side, which will be very difficult.

Khalasar, the Dothraki community, is commanded by a man. Strong, fearless and calm. That means a woman cannot lead them. You'll have to improvise on the spot.

Thankfully, the teacher used magic on me so I could speak their language safely. She called it "the only indulgence she would allow," which I was truly grateful for. Otherwise, I would have needed a translator.

Illyrio departed on business. Magister Halon had called him in to discuss some city matters. Not that it concerns me in any way.

I know for a fact that the teacher and Shiro would only remain silent and observe my actions. Especially the teacher who has been practicing my communication skills. And if I disappoint her... Just from that thought alone, goosebumps ran through my body.

- "Come on, Fina. I'm ready." I said and headed for the villa doors, and the priestess followed me.

It's time to put what I've learned to the test.

-0-

Shiro Kotomine. Pentos.

Semi and I stood near the villa exit and waited for the princess. The Queen of Assyria leaned against the wall and silently watched the clouds in the window. I preferred to reminisce, as a lot had happened.

This world was... interesting.

When I was called here, and when the information came into my brain, I was intrigued. And not just the one about this world, but who exactly did the summoning.

King Solomon.

Someone who had personally spoken to the Almighty and received his grace. He didn't know how he got here, but he knew why. This world was in danger, and the King of Magic needed to prevent that from happening.

Another very pleasant surprise was that Semi, the Queen of Assyria, with whom I fought the Great Holy Grail War, was also summoned with me.

And with whom I had fallen in love.

Upon arrival, she looked arrogant and displeased, maintaining her usual scowl. But later, when she saw and recognized me, it slowly softened, revealing a genuine smile of joy. The same joy was experienced by me, realizing that she too had retained the memories.

The Priest and the Queen. Light and Poison... A funny combination.

Later, King Solomon entrusted us to train the princess of the deposed royal family. To this, Semi snorted loudly and wondered why she should be doing this. But I managed to persuade her to follow orders, since Grand Caster is our Master after all. And there was really nothing to do.

The Princess, by the way, had a pleasant personality. She was not pompous or vain, but polite and studious, though partly lazy.

Daenerys Targaryen. That was the name of the princess who had been trained by two Servants.

At first she had a hard time with all these modern terms and sciences, but later on her training went like clockwork. She absorbed the contents of the lessons like a sponge, though not all of them. Expectedly, her least favorite subject was physics. Well, if she could regain the throne for her family, she would hardly need that science. The main emphasis was on math and economics. The princess spent almost half of her time on them.

In short, I was pleased with her. So was Semi, who doesn't show it.

She acted like a strict teacher who didn't tolerate mistakes, but still gave some indulgences when that happened. I don't know why, but sometimes her eyes would light up seeing the princess behind her studies.

It's safe to say that Seven's teacher is a good one. The presentation of the material is clear to understand and easy to digest. And this is a skill that not all mentors have even in modern times.

Maybe we should open a school when this is over. I can already imagine how the children are afraid to squeak in her presence.

A dreamy smile appeared on my face at that thought. And, of course, Semi noticed it.

- "What's the matter, Shiro? Did you have a stupid thought in your head again?"

- "Just thinking about the future." I answered easily.

- "The future? You could have asked the ring bearer about it when he was still here, of course. His Clairvoyance would have given you an answer, but he just walked away, deciding to dump it all on us." She snorted and crossed her arms over her chest.

- "You seem so... enthusiastic about teaching the princess. Maybe we should open a school."

- "And teach the little brats who only know how to eat, sleep, and go to the bathroom? Who do you think I am?"

- "Just... If we have kids..." I mumbled thoughtfully, and Semi froze for a few moments. Her eyes widened in surprise, and a tiny blush appeared on her cheeks, which was quite visible against her pale skin. But she recovered quickly, returning the usual frown to her face. For a second I wondered if my imagination was playing out.

- "Children? Don't be ridiculous, Shiro," Semi said, "We're Servants, and we can't conceive them. Besides, how can you imagine me as a mother?"

- "I am the Ruler, Semi. King Solomon has True Magic in his skills, which means he can bring us back to life," I said, and Semi turned her head away. "And you didn't deny my idea, but you were worried about being a good mother, weren't you?"

At my words she remained silent and hid her face, but I could see the blush on her cheeks.

I shook my head and smiled.

Who would have thought that the eternally frowning queen of Assyria could be embarrassed.

The next moment, my hearing picked up the footsteps of two people walking toward us. I turned my head and saw the princess with a pensive expression and Fina following her. They stopped near the door and Daenerys looked at me with Seven.

- "Are you ready, princess?" I asked.

- "I... I don't know..." she mumbled, "I know I need his men, but I don't know how to get them. I just don't have any ideas."

- "Hmph," Semi snorted, "The Dothraki respect strength. You can't solve this with persuasion, but you already have the tool, all that's left is to realize it. Use your head, girl."

- "Your advice is very vague, teacher." complained the princess and pouted.

- "Does that sound like it's my problem?" Assassin rolled her eyes.

The princess sighed tiredly and looked at me for support. I only smiled slyly in response, since I had nothing to say. Daenerys then turned to Fina.

- "I don't understand Lady Semiramis either, Princess. You'll have to figure it out for yourself." Fina shrugged.

- "Okay," Daenerys muttered and, adjusting her dress and hair, put her hands on the doors, "Then let's get started. I'm going to rely on luck."

- "A rash choice, but at least it's something." Semi said one last time.

- "I think so too." The princess nodded and opened the doors.

Well, with God.

-0-

Jon Snow. Wolfswood.

Ghost and I followed the free woman in silence. She led us somewhere to the left side of the wall, where the Twilight Tower should have been. Her steps were sure and cautious, and her eyes followed every movement.

Thankfully, she wasn't aiming an arrow at me. She was probably resigned to the fact that I could defeat her without taking her life. By the way, what did the wildling call her? "Mara," I think. We've been walking for a long time now, not saying a word, not even when we paused. And this silence was uncomfortable. And the loose woman looked relatively well-groomed.

- "So... your name is "Mara", right?" I decided to start a conversation, so I asked.

- "Trying to get up my skirt, admirer?" She answered with a question without turning her head, "Though you have a pretty face, I don't like you."

- "That's... expected... But I just wanted to talk. We've been traveling together for quite some time now, and maybe we could be friends?"

At my words, she stopped abruptly and looked at me like I was an idiot. The ghost did not distinguish himself, either, and gave me about the same look.

My eyebrow twitched.

Why are you looking at me like that? I'm not weird, am I?

- "You didn't get hit on the head, did you?" She looked me over from head to toe, making me want to throw snow at her, "You're not an idiot, are you, fan?"

- "No," I said with a raised eyebrow, "Jon Snow, by the way, not a 'groupie'. Nice to meet you."

- "Yeah, whatever, idiot." She waved me off and turned around and walked on.

I looked at her and wondered.

Maybe I should really refresh her face with a handful of snow.

- "Woof." The Ghost spoke up and followed her with a nonchalant glance at me.

Whose side are you on, damn it?!

-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.

It had been about an hour since the prince and Arya's incident. And now, the entire royal family, along with some of the Starks, have gathered in a small room for a debriefing.

In that hour, I was able to find out all the background. Arya explained everything in great detail. Robert's son challenged her to a duel and, after losing, began threatening my family with violence. Sansa silently confirmed Arya's words without showing it to those around her. As I understand it, she wants to make the best of the situation, to which I could only sigh tiredly.

Lady Kinvara really managed to influence her, huh? It's fine, though, as long as morals and honor are still in place.

Before that, Robert and I discussed a few things regarding my new position. On top of that, he wants Arya and Sansa to come with us to King's Landing. Or even arrange an engagement between Sansa and Prince Joffrey.

He argued that their families are long overdue for an inbreeding. I mean, Robert was actually referring to Lyanna when he suggested it. Perhaps I would have thought of it before, but not now, and definitely not in the future.

Glancing over at the prince, all I saw was an angry expression on his face. As well as on the queen in whose arms he was in. Jaime Lannister watched them from the sidelines, while Robert's gaze ran from Arya to the prince and back again.

My family, on the other hand, was looking at all of this with skepticism. Cat was shaking her head, Robb was watching the prince with a frown, Sansa was looking toward the royal family with feigned concern, and Arya was waiting for the discussion to begin.

- "So," Robert decided to start the discussion, "Who's going to explain to me what the hell happened?!"

- "There is nothing to explain," Queen Cersei declared, "The Stark girl attacked our son!"

- "Quiet, woman!" Robert shouted and looked at the prince, "Tell me."

- "She just attacked me!" shouted Prince Joffrey, pointing a finger at Arya, "This is treason! We should execute them!"

SLAPPING

A loud slap resounded through the room. The prince was almost holding his battered cheek with a weeping face, glaring at his father, whose slap it was. The queen froze at this and looked at him angrily. Robert himself sighed disappointedly.

- "For Seven's sake, are you a man or what!" he shouted, and then looked at Arya, "What do you say?"

- "His highness has challenged me to a duel." she stated confidently.

- "A duel? With a girl who is not even thirteen winters old?" Robert raised an eyebrow.

- "You are right, my king," Arya nodded, "My friend and I practiced fencing with ordinary sticks. I won, of course. Toward the end, your son and my sister approached us. He said that only a commoner could lose to a girl, and I disagreed and told him so. In response, your son challenged me to a duel with his sword, and I chose the stick."

- "Оh?" Robert looked at the prince in surprise. "So he drew a real sword and you responded with a stick? I don't know if that's disrespect or confidence. I take it you won?"

- "Mm-hmm," Arya replied, "I noticed that his skills were far behind my brothers. His grip on the sword was weak and insecure, and of course I took advantage of that by striking his hand. And the rest you already know."

- "She's lying, Father! She attacked me for nothing!" objected the prince.

- "You're the one who's lying!" Arya joined in.

- "Shut up, for God's sake!" he shouted, and then looked at Sansa, "So we have two different points of view, and the only witness. Therefore, it's your words that will decide everything, Sansa Stark. Who is right?"

There was silence in the room at his words, and all eyes focused on Sansa. Her whole body trembled, her eyes darted from side to side, and her fingers frantically searched the air. And amongst those expectant stares, several personalities stood out.

Prince Joffrey gave out a victorious smile, obviously thinking that she would support his words. The Queen was doing the same as her son. Kat wanted to say something, but she was left behind by Arya, tugging on her sleeve. And Lady Kinvara, standing behind her backs, who eyed my eldest daughter with intrigue.

- "What do you think Sansa will say?" I whispered to Robb beside me, who didn't look alarmed.

- "Hmmm..." he pondered, then grinned, "Whatever she says will be fine. Lady Kinvara has done a good job with her. So much so that even I sometimes fear my sister."

At his words, I sighed tiredly and waited for Sansa's response.

- "Don't be long, girl." Robert hurried her on.

- "I-I... I don't know..." Sansa gave out, gathering surprised looks, "At the moment of the duel I was distracted and didn't see anything...."

- "Tsk," Robert tsked, "Then..."

- "But... If I may, my King..." Sansa continued, to which he waved his hand, allowing her to speak further, "Father always spoke of honor, justice, and dignity... Therefore, can it be decided by a trial by combat? Let justice be done by the hands of the gods, I think..."

Hearing her suggestion, everyone froze and looked at Robert. He pondered Sansa's words, and after a few seconds he looked at me. And meeting his eyes, I didn't know what to do.

- "Don't do it, Ned. It's not worth it." Cat whispered discreetly.

I know, but the matter must be resolved. If we let it go, we have nothing more than an insult to royalty. Moreover, the fact that there was a duel is absent without hard evidence.

As I looked at Sansa and met her gaze, it dawned on me a moment later.

Referring to our friendship, Robert would have believed her words, but not the other arrivals. That is, she would have turned them against her before she even arrived at Red Castle. Plus, the fact that Sansa is Arya's older sister would also play a role, which means her point of view is already knowingly biased, at least on their part. Even if it isn't.

Oh, and the fact that the heir to the Seven Kingdoms with a real sword lost a duel to a girl using only a stick? Reputations would definitely be tarnished. Not just for the Lannisters, but for the Baratheons as well.

Eventually, after looking Robert in the eyes, I gave a short nod.

- "Good. Tomorrow at dawn will be the test of the duel," he said and headed for the room's exit, "Now, I need a drink."

And, strangely enough, this completely satisfied both sides of the conflict, as there was no mention of a fight to the death. The question remained whether or not the champions would be present.

I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the headache.

This wasn't the day I'd hoped for. And...I need a drink too...maybe....

-0-

Kinvara. Winterfell.

Some time after the incident was resolved, I slowly walked to Sansa's room to talk about her recent actions. And I can directly state that I am pleased with her.

She was able to completely get away with it, even though she was the extreme in the whole situation.

Offering to settle things with a trial by combat shut up all sides of the conflict. Not only that. The move made it clear to Cersei Lannister that Sansa was neutral. Which means she can be swayed and used.

If she told the truth, she would side with Arya, which would completely close off avenues of interaction with the queen. And if she lied, it would only cast doubt on herself, as if she were trying to suck up to the Lannisters. In the Queen's eyes, that would make her a bargaining chip worth wasting effort on, which is not a preferable option.

The Queen, or rather the Lannisters, have pretty much swept King's Landing under the rug. This is attributable to two factors: money and people.

More than half of the residents of Red Castle are loyal to the lions specifically. This means that almost nothing escapes the ears of the Queen and her father. On top of that, the crown owes about three million gold dragons to the Lannisters specifically. This allows them to act behind their sleeves in certain situations, as long as they don't get caught by the king.

Speaking of money. The king will likely also want a cut of the paper, books, and eyeglasses sales. Some lords have set up paper production in their castles, but only theirs.

The printing presses are in Pentos. And neither their blueprints nor they themselves leave the city. Officially, it's possible, but unofficially... Erin and her men won't let it happen, which has been negotiated with Halon, my king's friend and magister, who has the entire city in his hands. He wants to wait a year from the time of the first machine to get a monopoly on it, and after that, to distribute it freely. That is, it will only be possible after nine months.

It's a similar situation with eyeglasses. Lenses are made by Pentos artisans, whom the city has in great numbers. And the method of making them is also not taken outside of it under the supervision of Erin's men.

This work required many people, and the High Priestess of Pentos has them. After I settled here in Winterfell, I ordered my men in Volantis to be distributed between Pentos and King's Landing, leaving only the bare minimum.

Finally reaching Sansa's room, I went inside without knocking. And, as it turned out, inside, in addition to Sansa herself, was the rest of the Stark family, except for Bran and Rickon. Most likely she and Ser Rodrik, as he wasn't here either.

When they heard the door open, they immediately turned their heads in my direction, and Lord Stark prepared to bare his sword.

- "Good evening," I said with a slight bow, "I see you've already started?"

- "And you still move like a ghost." Lord Stark remarked and put his sword back in its scabbard. I smiled and went inside the room, locking the door with magic.

- "I take it you're here to discuss what happened?" Lady Stark asked.

- "You are right," I nodded and looked at Sansa, "Not a bad move, young lady, but it will be harder for you now. The Queen will be watching your every move and trying to influence you while you're in King's Landing."

- "I know," she sighed tiredly, "But I'd rather have the Queen's company than the Prince's. He's... bad."

- "Stop," Lord Stark intervened, "How do you know Sansa is traveling with me?"

- "It's obvious. Robert wants you to feel comfortable in King's Landing, hence the need for family company. Bran and Rickon are too young, and Robb is the heir. I'll have to help him and look after the children here at Winterfell, and that leaves only Sansa and Arya. Has he tried to betroth them to anyone, by any chance?" Lady Stark said calmly, then noticed the surprised looks in her direction, "Did I say something wrong?"

- "N-no..." Robb stammered, "It's just... unusual to see you like this..."

Lady Stark rolled her eyes girlishly, and the children giggled softly.

- "Anyway, I have something to please you, Sansa." I said.

- "Delight?" she asked.

- "My king will probably arrive in King's Landing when you're there," I began, and her eyes practically lit up, "Right now he's in Braavos, in Black and White House. And I think he'll visit you as soon as he's finished his business."

- "Really?!" Sansa shrieked with joy, as did Arya.

- "The black and white house? Isn't it a haven for faceless assassins?" Lord Stark asked.

- "Indeed it is." I nodded.

- "But what did he leave there?"

- "I can only speculate, but it must have something to do with Valyria, as my king was very interested in the subject. The Black and White House is a very old and powerful house. Even the most loyal servants of the Lord of Light cannot identify the Faceless Ones unless they themselves wish to do so. In addition, the Many-Faced God is much older than the Lord of Light. According to the beliefs of the Faceless Men, their god can appear in the form of any other god. After all, death is the natural end for every living thing. And their god's possession is that very death. Calm, cold and indifferent."

- "It's... very difficult to understand," Lady Stark rubbed her temples, "I was taught from childhood that the Seven are the only true gods. And the idea that one god can take the form of another is a little... disconcerting."

- "It's all right. We don't really understand all that much either. But there is a spark of truth in the beliefs of the Faceless Ones," I shook my head, "Anyway, any guesses as to who Prince Joffrey will choose as his champion?"

- "You don't think he'll fight on his own?" Lady Stark asked.

- "Of course," Robb answered for me, "Besides, the prince will definitely want to 'punish' us."

- "Right," Lord Stark nodded, "The prince doesn't have the courage to choose his father; he's too afraid of him. That leaves only two: either Jaime Lannister or Sandor Clegane."

- "I think he'll choose his bodyguard over the Kingslayer," Sansa added, "Because only the former is the only one Prince Joffrey can freely give orders to."

- "Good guess," I nodded. "And who will Arya choose?"

- "Hey! I can fend for myself!" She protested, and the others shook their heads, and Robb grinned.

- "It'll probably be me. The king won't let my father go out unless he goes out himself," he said, "At most, I'll use Lord Solomon's gift if defeat is certain. That's allowed, isn't it, Father?"

- "You may use whatever you were wearing when the ordeal began." Lord Stark nodded, then looked around at all of us, "Now that that is settled, I suggest we return to the royal family. I wouldn't want to leave them unattended, given the circumstances."

Everyone nodded in agreement and dispersed as soon as I dispelled the spell from the door.

I suppose I should start preparing a favorable ground in the King's Landing. A couple of enchanted lords and ladies will help the Starks settle in when they arrive.

With these thoughts, I clicked on the earring that Lord Solomon had given me.

Time to get to work...

-0-

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