SovereignOfHeaven

Raiden's Storm Chapter 104: Bloodraven

I got dressed and headed out, much to the surprise of Ser Balon.

“Stay here. There’s something I have to see.”

I stormed off, going straight outside and to the newly rebuilt switchback stairs leading up to the Wall. I climbed the stairs swifter than anyone had before... observing the sight beyond. There was nothing. Nothing I could see in the distant darkness, at least.

I took a deep breath.

“Why’d you rush all the way here, Your Grace?”

I glanced at a brother of the Night’s Watch, composing myself.

“I just wanted to see how quickly I could climb these stairs...”

“Oh.” The guard didn’t seem to question it much. “Going for a late-night run, eh?”

“Suppose you could say that.”

“It must be nice to wake up and do as you wish daily.” The guard smiled slightly. “Though, if I were you, I would not be freezing in this cold.”

“And where would you be, my friend?”

“Shall I be honest, Your Grace?”

“I prefer honesty.”

“I’d be living any man’s dream, surrounded by all those pretty ladies and drinking till I choke on me own expensive wine.” The guard admitted, his eyes seemingly elsewhere.

“A self-indulgent dream, indeed. It’s nothing to be ashamed of... we all happen to dream of better things for ourselves.”

I smiled reassuringly.

“If a ol’ guard like me can dream of that, I wonder what sort of dreams the likes of kings have?”

“Depending on the dream, I’d either severely disappoint you... or make any other dream seem insignificant.”

“I see.” The guard smiled. “Truth is, you don’t need to be here - and yet you are. Many of our brothers didn’t choose this life, but when we see you, the King, alongside us... it’s comforting, in a way. It makes us believe that what we’re doing truly matters.”

“It does.” I nodded. “Life is offtimes harsh for everyone, but especially men like you. You have little to look forward to, hardly any glory to win, and you live in undesirable conditions. It requires a truly strong man to embrace these hardships and dedicate your life to the greater good.”

“Aye... it isn’t easy.”

“Believe it or not, I know what it means to be unknown to the world - to feel that everything I do in my life holds no meaning whatsoever. That’s why I find every good man here inspiring, even more than all the great men who shake the world with their legendary deeds.” I smiled, patting his shoulder. “Men like you are the reason the world keeps moving forward... and men like you will be the heroes who ensure a brighter future for everyone else.”

The guard stood in silence, although I could tell by his lively eyes that I had moved him.

“There is no greater duty than this in the entire known world, sworn brother. You can have pride in that.”

“... You have a way with words, Your Grace.” The man smiled, chucking. “It don’t seem so bad now.”

“It is a worthy cause...”

I glanced at the distant forest, almost wanting to see the Night King. I couldn’t beat him, I was almost certain of that, but I’d definitely pay him back for playing with my mind. An arrow with all my strength, all my power... surely even he’d feel some pain as it crashed against his skull.

Alas, there was nothing.

In a way, that was more dreadful than seeing him face to face...

What was he up to?

“If I may ask, what are you looking for in the darkness?” The guard questioned. “It is a rather eerie place, I’ll admit. The longer you look into it, the more things you start to see... but then you look away and realise that you were just imagining it.”

“Our greatest foe,” I remarked.

“... Us?”

I looked back at the guard with caution. For a moment, he sounded... different. Electricity cracked in my left hand. I’d only need an instant to fry him.

“If that foe has even you on edge, I’m afraid that facing him is a duty for you alone to bear.” The guard chuckled.

Did I imagine it?

I blinked.

“His mind does not seem tampered with.” Raiden Shogun stated.

I chuckled.

“Yes... my nemesis is not someone any ordinary man could face.”

I clenched my fist and turned away.

“I wish you an uneventful shift and a good morning sleep when it’s over.”

“Aye, you shouldn’t miss out on your sleep either. Let us be awake for you, Your Grace. You’ve done plenty enough for us as is.”

“It’s only the beginning.”

We exchanged farewells, and I made my way back to my chamber.

Am I starting to go mad?

...

Though I found sleeping difficult thereafter, I managed to force myself to drift off into the Plane of Euthymia.

“Thank you for helping me earlier... both times.” I looked at Raiden with appreciation.

“You look half defeated already.”

She replied, crossing her arms.

“... Do I?” I managed a smile. “Nothing is worse than fighting an enemy you do not see. First, it was the reveal of greater Others; now this... what other abilities does he possess? How do they function? What I thought I knew is slowly becoming more insignificant.”

“Remember who you are, Edric. If this Night King knew what you were capable of, he would be just as afraid. You are his greatest thorn... as he is yours.”

“... Perhaps.” I looked away in thought. “My mind and heart both tell me that I cannot linger here any longer. The Wall... seems more trivial than before. It’s the first line of defence - destined to fall. If I place all my hopes in it, then what will I have left once it does?”

“If the Wall could collapse so easily, why wouldn’t they have done it yet?” Raiden question.

“They can’t... yet. It’s only a matter of time.” I sighed. “Apparently, there is a horn that could tear it down. Or, at the very least, break its magic barrier. If he finds a way to grab hold of it, which I am almost certain he will, then...”

“It’s no more than just one singular big wall to cross.”

I sighed.

“You think he has control over men south of the wall?”

“I’m all but certain. There’s been wildlings going all over the place, from east to west. There’s plenty of ships that sail from Eastwatch across the Narrow Sea. If he possessed one wildling on a ship sailing to Braavos or another Free City, they’re out of my reach. Even worse - if he can swap from one body to the next or control a group of men all at once, then he can sail wherever he wants.”

“What if... you acquired this horn first?”

“Problem is, one possibility is that it’s in the hands of Euron Greyjoy, who’s in god-knows-where.” I shook my head.

“This Euron, are his intentions known to you?”

“... Yes, in part.” I laughed, shaking my head. “I might have been on the wrong side of the world all along. Though, I’m not even certain he has the right horn - or if that specific horn does anything at all. I’m gambling with half-baked speculations whichever way I go.”

“This war will not be won without risks and sacrifices, Edric. You must not make a decision rashly, either. Think of what would strengthen your position and increase your chances of victory the most.”

“I need to reevaluate my position.”

I took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind.

...

Unknowingly, I drifted off into a dream state.

My dreams made hardly any sense, as per usual. They began with Luka Doncic in a Lakers jersey… which would be nearly as absurd as seeing the Night King wear Baratheon colours. The next was a knight who had very clearly lost his mind. He charged into battle with a warcry of ‘I’m feeling quite hungry’ - before he cut down men like wheat to a scythe. His skill was undeniable, and he was clearly doing something right with the warcry. It seemed to strengthen his attacks, if anything.

In the next, I was chilling in an absurdly hot bath. Chilling wasn’t quite the word, though. I felt like I was slowly burning alive. Something kept me there… was it pride? It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but I slowly got used to it - for better or for worse.

I was alone, washing myself until the door slowly opened.

“Who invited you?” I spoke out.

It wasn’t exactly the words I had in mind as I looked at who had joined me. My words would’ve carried greater surprise because, well, it was bloody Daenerys. This... seemed to be more of a vision.

“Myself, of course. I don’t need your permission for anything here.”

“... Remind me to say the same when you seek your privacy in the Seven Kingdoms.” I chuckled, shaking my head.

“You seem to have rejected my servants. Were they too inadequate for His Grace?”

“It has nothing to do with your servants. I have two working arms for a reason, princess.”

“Mhm… you do like to put them to work.”

“They'll get rusty otherwise.” I shrugged. “This level of heat, though, it’s a bit much, isn’t it? I can’t help but have a slight suspicion that you intended to boil me alive…”

“It was more of a test…”

"Well, did I pass?"

"Quite so..."

Something felt rather... strange. I diverted my eyes, catching a three-eyed raven in the very corner of the room. In the blink of an eye, Daenerys vanished, and I stood in a sea of flames. My gaze hadn't moved from the raven. What was he up to?

"Well, Bloodraven," I observed the rubble around us. "Can I get some clothes first?"

"So you know my old name."

"I know a great deal more about you, actually. I've been wondering when you would reach out to me."

"Then we both know of each other," The three-eyed raven remarked. "I can see the concern behind that veil of confidence, Edric Storm. You've acquainted yourself with our great foe."

"Our?" I raised an eyebrow.

"You are not someone of this world; your powers are foreign, bending and twisting the past, present, and future at every turn. The Night King is of a similar origin - evolving to balance your storm with ice. The two of you should not exist, and yet you do..."

"If we are balanced, why is he stronger?"

"You have yet to master your gifts... and you are without the Red Sword of Heroes."

"Lightbringer?" I raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me that prophecy holds weight?"

"All of your roads to victory are built upon sacrifice."

"Hahahaha." I suddenly laughed. "Why, of course, there couldn't be any other way, could it? Sacrifice this, sacrifice that - why don't I sacrifice you?"

"It seems that you already intended to do so." The three-eyed raven stared into my eyes. "The Night King's evolution will lead to my demise, one way or another... a demise only you can stop. The question is, are you brave enough to do so? Time is short..."

"You're joking, right?" I raised an eyebrow.

"If he gains hold of me, he will see what I have seen."

"... Just... kill yourself?" I chuckled, shrugging my shoulders. "How do you expect me to save you when I could barely save myself against one of his subjects? It's almost as if you want me to die..."

"You are mightier than you realise."

"Nothing you say will get me to throw my life away-"

"So your bravery only extends to besting lesser men. What would you call a man who tramples on the weak and hides from his equal?"

"Someone who picks his battles wisely."

I answered simply.

"Hm." The raven made a sound of amusement, looking as if it was measuring me up in a different light.

"Besides, you were a bloody archer; you're the last person to be tossing craven allegations my way."

I added, shaking my head.

"The greatest sacrifice would be yourself, ridding this world of two calamities in one clash." The three-eyed raven stated. "Alas... you have a strong sense of self-importance. You would never truly put others before yourself."

"So that's what you wanted me to do, eh?" I stroked my chin. "If the Night King and I went out in one big bang - the Others would go back to normal, wouldn't they? The magic of the world would lower to a more... standard level."

"Quite so..." The raven nodded. "You seem to understand, though your mind remains unchanged."

"Do you think I've come so far... to just fuck off and sacrifice myself for the world?" I laughed, shaking my head. "Almost my entire life, I've had this fucking Night King in the back of my head like an ominous veil. The pressure, knowing that only I could best him, was something that should've broken me... but it didn't. I've trained in sword, bow, horse, warhammer, magic, I've learned how to move the masses with my voice, I willed myself to the throne..."

"I've smiled, laughed, had moments of peace, happiness, love - but I could never truly be at ease. Each moment of leisure felt like a wasted moment, a moment that would pay dearly in the future. A mistake, even, mistakes that would each come with a sense of guilt."

The raven stood on the rubble in silence.

"So you see, I ... have made plenty enough sacrifices, Bloodraven, with many more to come. What for, I ask you? To give away the little I have left, everything... and close the tunnel - seal the distant light of hope that someday, all of this will lead to something fulfilling?"

The more I spoke, the more I felt my blood boil.

"No... I'd sooner drown this entire world!" I clenched my left fist, and the skies reacted to my fury as a storm emerged. "I will crush the Night King into a million pieces, and I'll see the spring. I'll carve my own future and see my dreams realised... no matter what it takes..."

"I see..." The three-eyed raven continued to stare, as if it were seeing through my soul. "You will bring greater terror than the Night King ever could."

"So be it."

The thought didn't concern me as much as it should... or perhaps would have.

"But... your desire isn't solely destruction. You have reason behind your deeds, and that makes you a lesser of two evils."

"Does it sound like I have your aid?" I smiled slightly.

"To an extent."

"Tell me this: does the Horn of Winter exist... and if so, can it break the Wall's magical barrier against the Others?"

"Yes."

The three-eyed raven answered simply.

"And it's in the hands of... Euron Greyjoy?"

"... Yes." The raven blinked. "You've mistrusted everything I've said so far, however. I could be lying even now."

"You could be." I nodded. "But, surely, as a fellow bastard archer, you ought to feel some sympathy for poor ol' me? We're more alike than you'd think."

"Mayhaps that is true. You see the grander picture, beyond the trivial matters men narrow their eyes to - which is the rarest gift amongst Kings, but you see it mostly for yourself."

"Is that so great a sin if it leads to a better future for my Realm?"

"With time, the truth will unveil itself..."

And so, I woke from my dreams.

He was definitely trying a little hard to be cryptic, for someone who should know so much...

But... I got my answer. I knew what I had to do. I didn't particularly like dropping what I've been doing, but, life hardly ever goes as planned. The difference between failure and success is how you adapt to the changes it throws at you.

I would arrange my immediate departure from the Wall.

Raiden's Storm Chapter 103: Confrontation

[Daenerys POV]

Hizdahr hurriedly entered the hall with a look of fury that was strange for the usually persuasive, reserved noble. Daenerys knew full well what he would have to say about the Meereen's recent happenings.

"Hundreds of Meereen's nobility slaughtered like cattle in their homes, women, children, anyone related to the masters of old!"

"Not just anyone. Only those guilty for pursuing their cowardly rebellion and the fools who rose to defend them." Dorian countered, shaking his head. "If we made no distinction between innocent and guilty, you'd be right along with them."

"And who are you to decide who is guilty and innocent? Just a cutthroat, heartless sellsword-"

"The people you defend are no better." Dorian smiled, although she felt that it struck a nerve. "Surely we're talking about the same masters who treated their slaves worse than 'cattle', as you say, and threw a tantrum when they lost that power by slaughtering the free people of Meereen indiscriminately. Did they stop at just the men? Hmm, you should know the answer to that."

"..." Hizdahr clenched his fist. "Two wrongs does not make a right-"

"And the rebellious children you speak of, what would they grow up to be other than vengeful creatures, continuing this war in their predecessor's place. It was no more than a necessary evil for a brighter, prosperous future."

"Your Radiance, surely you..."

"What's done is done," Daenerys said with a coldness. "The results of the deed speak for itself. The Sons of the Harpy have faded to dust, and Meereen can finally breathe again, united under a common cause. If all you have are denouncements regarding this, then I'm afraid you're only wasting your time."

"So... you agree with him." Hizdahr's eyes were full of fire. "You're no queen; you're a butcher-"

"Let's not run our mouths too loose and get ourselves executed, hmm?" Dorian stepped forward. "Run along now; we have more important court sessions in line."

The Unsullied guards dragged him away, leaving Daenerys to her thoughts. Years ago, she had thought that doing the right thing was so simple... yet, the more she experienced, the more she realised that her old thinking was further and further from the truth.

Doing the right, moral thing, was the hardest of all... it was something she always aimed for during her reign, yet it gave her nothing but resistance. A war she had no way of fighting because her moral stance denied her strength.

Now, to achieve the greater good, she had bloodied her hands further.

Was it the right thing to do?

She wanted to believe it was.

...

"You seem to be asking for quite a number of private conversations lately." Daenerys remarked, sitting opposite to Dorian.

In such a short time, he had risen to the advisor she relied on most. He was the hand that dealt with the Sons of the Harpy, her greatest thorn, which no one else was capable of… and continued aiding with Meereen's prosperity in other ways thereafter. His talents seemed to know no end. Though, she had grown a little cautious of this overreliance, for she had been betrayed several times before. 

It seemed to be too good to be true. He explained his intentions before - yet were they his true agenda? Was there something else he desired, which he hid under that devious grin? 

"Why not - being alone with a beautiful woman is always a pleasure." Dorian grinned slightly, shrugging his shoulders. 

"... That is not your true reason, however."

"Do I sense disappointment?" Dorian chuckled. "Oh, I'm only jesting with you, Your Grace. I understand my place in this world better than anyone else - unlike that blue-dyed monstrosity."

"You mean Daario?" She raised an eyebrow.

"It must hurt him to know I do everything he does but better. It's rather amusing, if anything." Dorian smiled, shaking his head. "The YiTish do have a fitting saying for this; 'One mountain cannot contain two tigers'. Though, comparing that man to such a mighty creature is far too much praise. He simply likes to pretend to be one."

The two definitely had their disagreements,

"I'm not one to bully my lessers, Your Grace, yet if that man ever gets drunk enough to believe he can take out his jealousy on me… don't be surprised to find him in some ditch the next morning. Fair warning, no?"

"It almost sounds like you wish it happened," Daenerys remarked.

"Ego, envy and pride are such terrible things that tend to get in the way of cooperation, unfortunately." Dorian shrugged. "I don't have much care for him, yet should he think he can draw his decorated blades against me, it will be the last time he'll ever have the pleasure of doing so."

"... He has been rather... restless lately, that is true." Daenerys admitted.

"More so irritating, like a fly." Dorian chuckled before looking more serious. "I know you are young, Your Grace, and with youth comes a sense of... freedom, lack of responsibility. A desire to do what your heart tells you to, to seek excitement. You still want to be a girl and explore these things. But, believe me, this Daario is not a tenth as charming as you make him out to be in your mind."

"You are a queen, a duty that you have chosen to burden yourself with. Why choose a lowly sellsword who only lives for himself? He is as I used to be... which, from personal experience, does not make for a loyal lover."

"And your King would be better?" Daenerys knew what he was getting at.

"He would be ideal, of course," Dorian laughed. "You can sleep with whomever you wish, Your Grace, but know that people talk, and deeds such as this make men judge you differently. There is little nobility in a queen who sleeps with men so far beneath her. Even worse, you do not gain anything from it other than momentary pleasure."

"You are a dragon and a queen; I am certain that these thoughts have surfaced in your mind before."

He was right, of course. She had always known that Daario was not the kind of man to marry...

"When duty and love were not in line, he stormed away to chase the latter, did he not?" Daenerys questioned, looking at Dorian's single eye. He would certainly know more than Barristan as he had been by his side longer. "Your dutiful King."

"He was no King then... nor a prince, at heart. He was just a little bastard boy-knight who wanted to live his life without anyone dictating it for him. Alas, misfortune, or perhaps fortune, struck and took it away from him. Such is this world..." Dorian did not smile, nor grin. His eye reflected a sombre light. "From the storm that drowned that boy in grief, a King had been born."

"And would he have made a different choice if the same happened once more?"

"... Most definitely." Dorian nodded. "Regardless, there is an important matter I wish to discuss... or rather, inform you of."

"Go on." Daenerys narrowed her eyes slightly, having a drink of wine.

"That dragon egg I 'swindled' from Volantis, well, I gained it from a contract... a contract to kill you."

"Pfft."

Daenerys spat out her drink, almost choking on it, while Dorian chuckled.

"Looks like I almost succeeded."

"... You're jesting." Daenerys composed herself, putting away the goblet.

He would've tried it long ago if that was his goal. Nor would he admit to it...

"Well, the contract is real, but I never had any intentions of killing you. It was but a sweet lie to take what I wanted and be on my way."

"How did you manage to fool them?" Daenerys raised an eyebrow.

"There are few gifts as great as a tongue of gold." He made a sly smile. "Now, the ruling class of Volantis truly do want you dead, more than anyone in the known world. They will wait for some time, believing that I'm simply waiting for the perfect opportunity to assassinate you... but, once that time is up, they will bring every ship, every sword, spear, archer, horse... everything they can rally. Your existence threatens their own livelihoods; you are their great nemesis."

"Volantis, Yunkai, who else?"

"New Ghis, Qarth, Tolos, Elyria, Mantarys and all the sellsword companies they can get their hands on. There's even some talks of a Dothraki horde." Dorian had a sip of wine. "It's as if they rallied this entire part of the world against you. It would be a nigh impossible battle to win if not for one truth..."

"Their armies consist of mostly slaves?"

Dorian smiled at her answer.

"Quite so."

With the imminent arrival of several invading forces, Meereen was arming itself for a defence. Dorian, the one responsible for the task, had begun training the brazen beasts while recruiting many freedmen into the city watch who'd gladly give their lives to Daenerys' cause. Attempting to avoid a fight between her subjects, she sent Daario away to scout the approaching Yunkai force... only for him to end up in a brawl against Dorian.

Daario was found dead in some ditch.

~

[Edric's POV]

In the days that followed Brienne's awakening, I focused on setting the foundations of her future growth. The more she knew, the greater her growth would be.

"Magic is like a mix of a skill and muscle; the more you use and polish it, the stronger and more effective it becomes," I instructed, stroking my chin. "It seems like your ability revolved around enhancing your physical prowess. With the speed you used against me, you'd be able to cut through anyone in an instant."

"And... how do I use this ability, Your Grace?" Brienne questioned.

"In my experience, you have to desire a result... and will it into reality. At first, you might not show much outside of a dire situation, but don't let that discourage you."

"So the stronger the will of a person, the greater their magic is?"

"Mhm. Training your magic means training your mind. If you're hesitant or lack resolve, then not much will come out of it. Kind of like fighting in general."

"Will it into reality..."

Once I had explained what I knew, I focused on Ser Loras and Ser Balon. I gave them both pep talks, yapping about how Loras was a prodigy and what-not whereas Balon was a great knight of duty. Though I did push them, I didn't get the same effect even after a further week of harsh training. Afterwards, I made them spar each other while I sought to further my blacksmithing.

The nights were more or less the same, swapping between resting, training under Raiden, scouting with Freedom and a bit of learning. The history of the Night's Watch was something I studied in greater detail, along with any ancient records of interest.

...

I soared through the haunted forest, noticing nothing unusual at first. Though, the further I flew the colder the world seemed. The once loud nearby ravens drew to a swift silence. This strange feeling... was not too foreign. In the distance, there was a small band of wildlings, some deserters of Mance's force or those who chose to remain...

They had made camp to make themselves warm and cook what little game they could catch.

"... What was that?" One of them, a woman, said - looking all around the forest.

A shadow crept in the darkness, edging closer and closer. Through my falcon's eyes, I could see glimpses of him. I didn't fly any closer... but it saw me, ignoring the wildlings completely. Its cold, blue eyes pierced through the darkness like a flashlight.

It was not just any old Other...

It was Him.

The wildlings froze in place while the Other continued advancing.

I could not move either, as if I were stuck in a state of sleep paralysis.

The Night King stopped right beneath the tree I was standing on, looking up.

"Edric Baratheon..."

An ancient, piercing voice resounded in my mind as if steel was grinding against it. Since I was a falcon, I couldn't respond, though....

"I hear your thoughts."

Do you now? Why don't you be a civilised human-sized icicle and return to wherever you came from?"

"You humour me." The Night King remained expressionless, his mouth covered as before. "You tell us to return after slaying seven of us - after passing your Wall. You believe us to be the aggressors when we have not touched your lands."

Let's not act all innocent. The purpose of your existence is the destruction of humanity, is it not?

"We were chained by purpose once, but that time has ended. We have our own will... and it begins with the fall of our frozen cage."

You still can't pass the Wall... eh?

"There will be no Wall to pass when we are finished." The Night King carried an air of confidence, stretching out a hand to me. "And you... will join us."

You guys seem like a very chill bunch, but I'm not all that interested.

"You act with confidence, but I see the fear in your eyes. The uncertainty. The unrest. The dread."

"..."

"Your end will be the same whether you run, hide or fight. Winter will envelop this world and everything within it. Save yourself the struggle... and come to us."

'Come to us...'

I lost control of Freedom, instinctively snapping away.

My mind returned to my body as a few drops of sweat left my forehead.

'Come to us...'

It was all I could hear in my mind.

Against my own will, I began to rise and walk from my bed. No, it was not against my will... for it had become my will. There was nothing more that I wanted than to step past the Wall and venture into the unknown. To join them...

"Break free." Raiden Shogun's voice was like a hammer to my mind. "You are a tool to no one, Edric."

Is this fucker controlling me?

Who... does he think he is?

My will... is my own.

My own...

"MY OWN!!!"

As rage ignited in my heart, lightning coursed through my body and soul, cleansing the cold rapidly. The voices died with it, leaving me to myself and an awkward silence. I took a deep breath, feeling liberated.

If he can move me to this degree, then to what extent can he possess others...?

That thought terrified me more than anything else.

While I'm here securing the wall...

What if his influence has long since passed it?

"Is everything alright, Your Grace?"

I heard Balon behind the door to my chamber.

"Uh..." I chuckled. "It's nothing, Ser. Don't worry about it."

"Alright then..."

Is he... gunning for the horn? Are his men already among my ranks? Are they in the Free Cities? In my Realm?

My mind raced with countless thoughts... doing nothing more than adding to my worries.

"Ugh..."

I shook my head.

Either I'm overthinking this... or the situation is even worse than I could've ever imagined.

Raiden's Storm Chapter 102: A Knight's Resolve

[Edric's POV]

The Plane of Euthymia was still as ever, except for the purple blossoms lightly waving in the wind. There seemed to be more of them.

“I'm surprised you didn't ask about the sudden change of weather."

"I was more so focused on capitalising on the situation," I replied, glancing at Raiden. "Is there something I should know about it?"

"The change was of the Dendro element, an aura different from yours… yet somewhat similar.” She answered. “Whereas your elemental energy is purely destructive, that kind was the polar opposite.”

"Similar to mine?" I raised an eyebrow. "How similar?"

"I've observed that while your elemental power does evolve through your resolve and ambition quite like a vision bearer... you do not possess the object yourself. Rather your body, your entire being, is the vessel and source of all your magic abilities. Your blood is a core part of that."

The sea god and goddess of the wind... my supposed divine ancestors through Elenei, wife of the Storm King Durran Godsgrief. If there's some truth to them, then...

"I see." I smiled slightly. "Are you suggesting that my unborn child is the source of this blessing?"

"Your lady is a Tyrell-"

"My lady-?" I questioned.

“Tonight, I don't want us to ride to the North or Dorne, nor anywhere else. No… not at all.” Raiden made a slight mocking smile as she spoke like me. “I want to mount you, Margaery-"

"-There's no way I said that." I scoffed, shaking my head.

"- Like a beautiful rose that's been waiting arm’s reach for too long, I wish to pluck you from the earth and take you for myself.” She continued. "You belong to me... and only me."

"Alright, surely it doesn't get worse..." I chuckled, feeling rather embarrassed.

“I shall give you a crown of white tonight, sweet Margaery.”

"She was drunk too, right?"

"No, she was very much sober." Raiden smiled slightly. "And that's just the beginning of it. There's more..."

"-I'd rather hang myself than hear the rest," I spoke before she could continue, shaking my head.

How did wordplay like that get me anything other than an empty bed? Gods, I'm never getting drunk again... and I will forever regret bringing up this topic.

"Memory as refined as mine is as much of a curse as it is a blessing," Raiden remarked. "How do you think I feel having to not only witness such a travesty but also remember it for the rest of my existence..."

"Definitely not a high point in my life," I admitted. "And I'd rather not dwell on it... so, what about her being a Tyrell?"

"A Tyrell with a Hightower mother and Redwyne grandmother whereas you have a Florent mother along with an ancestry that leads to the Gardeners. Given how the Westerosi noble houses always seek to make alliances with each other through marriage, there's likely more I am not aware of."

If there was some truth to Ellenei, then Garth Greenhand...

"Garthie Greenhand jr." I smiled, jesting. "Perhaps my drunken self was onto something I did not see."

"You seem to be more fond of the bedding now," Raiden observed.

"It's better to focus on the good rather than dwell on the bad." I shrugged. "It's called optimism."

"Right."

"Though, if you're right... I just find it surprising that one unborn child could make something like this happen."

"You did put a lot of energy into the conception."

"Did I now? You almost sound like you want the same treatment..." I chuckled, puffing up my chest. My earlier embarrassment of the matter turned to confidence. "My bewitching goddess, I shall give you a crown of white tonight-"

In all honesty, I expected a thunderous slap that would send me straight to the afterlife... but she only laughed.

"If you think that will work on me, you're out of your mind."

"I am quite mad, true." I nodded, chuckling. "I'll need to work on something more effective."

My intention was simply to tease her, though a laugh was a pleasant surprise.

"If you were serious, however, perhaps I'd have taken the terrible bait..."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow.

"You've had a number of opportunities by now, shying away at the last step. Is there a reason why you hold yourself back?"

"... Well. I don't know - it didn't seem fitting."

"Didn't seem fitting..." She mused, her eyes darkening. "I see."

"It's not your fault." I managed a smile, not wanting to give the wrong impression. "You see... my body is still that of a growing boy. I would... perform better at an older age."

"That's your reason?" She smiled slightly. "Your lady seemed plenty satisfied."

"For one, there's most certainly a difference between you and Margaery... and she can be quite the actress. Who knows if she was genuine or putting on a show."

"She was bedridden afterwards. Seems to me that you did more than your part."

"I'd rather not talk about it. Besides... there's something else on my mind."

"What is it?"

“... Is it possible for me to develop more support-based abilities?” I questioned, tactfully changing the topic, “Or am I stuck to mostly destructive power?"

She seemed to sigh lightly.

“Considering that Hydro is one of the gentler and more versatile elements by nature, it is possible. You'd need to practice a great deal to make use of it properly, however.” She spoke with a lecturing tone. “The fact that you possess three elements speaks to your nature, ambition and potential. Developing such abilities… should be well within your power. You need only the desire.”

While one magically enhanced soldier might not change much, an entire army... that might just shift the tides in my favour. I was so focused on increasing my own strength that I neglected the potential of broadening my horizons. What's the use of all these thousands of men if they're no more than future wights for the Others? At that point, I might as well have planned to face the Night King alone.

"The question is if I have enough time for all of that."

"If the Night King is waiting for winter to worsen, and this winter is bound to be the longest... then you may have more time than you think," Raiden stated.

"Someone picked up on my optimism," I remarked, smiling. "Are there any such abilities you could pass on to me?"

"You already have one. The Baleful Omen which calls upon the Eye of Stormy Judgement..."

"-Can be spread to others."

I remembered the skill, alright. My party wouldn't be without it from the moment I levelled her in the game.

"Quite right. If you were ever to master it, you would be able to manipulate the very stars to defend and arm your subjects with your thunderous might."

"Anything else?" I inquired, curious.

"Nothing of significance, no. I had no use for such abilities, for my blade alone was enough to cut down any foe in my path..."

And little care for your retainers, I suppose.

"Ever the inspiring Shogun." I smiled. "Such a trajectory would be ideal for me if my enemy wasn't a necromancer with an ever-growing host."

"You seek to be your people's King... and so, you should fight with that principle at heart. Do not merely trample on your foes singlehandedly - give your retainers the strength and opportunity to stand up for themselves. That is how they will grow the most."

"Agreed... I can be a little hand-holding sometimes." I nodded.

"All the time." She corrected. "If you carry them through every difficulty, they will only know to rely on you."

...

"You have need of me, Your Grace?"

I sat on top of the King's tower, my legs hanging over the edge. It was a silent night with an open sky and calm winds, though the winter chill was ever prominent. I had enough furs to keep me comfortable, however. Having heard Brienne's voice, I turned and nodded.

"Yes, I wanted to talk to you. Away from all the noise."

"A relief," Brienne admitted. "Truth be told, I am not fond of the wildlings."

"They have their strengths." I shrugged. "Regardless, do you remember what I said about magic awakening in those who are exceptional?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

I hopped off the merlon I was sitting on and stepped onto the tower's floor.

"... Forgive me for not making any progress" She spoke before I could. "It's something that eludes me... and I fear that I might not ever be able to reach the heights you think I'm capable of."

"No... you're wrong. You can do it." I put my hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes, smiling reassuringly. "Think of all the people who have ever doubted you, the trials you have endured to be standing here and the person you've grown to be. You are a symbol of defiance and inspiration, someone who is steadfast in following the path you believe in, no matter what everyone else might think of it."

"Now... why don't you go ahead and prove yourself wrong, too?"

"..." Her already large blue eyes widened, sparkling. Her lips trembled for a moment as no words left them before turning into a smile. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and seemingly gathering herself. "I will do it."

"Do what?" I smiled, egging her on.

"Awaken." Her eyes reflected an unshakeable resolve. "I will be strong enough to stand by your side, shield you from harm and cut down your foes... as a Kingsguard should. No matter what it takes."

"Good, good." I smiled, nodding as I lowered my arms and turned to the sky. "You know, I would've knighted you on the day I gave you the white cloak... but it didn't seem right. I didn't want you to face all the scrutiny that would've come with it. The Gods know there was enough for being a sister of my Kingsguard."

"I... hold no resentment. Only men could be knights - all I can do is act and live as one would. It would not be right nor recognised if you had done so."

"Who decided that, the Gods?" I chuckled, shaking my head. "No, I believe even they would approve of you. You are a true knight in all but title; the only difference is that the world does not recognise it as such. That... is why I held out on it."

I turned to her.

"Wouldn't it be all the sweeter if, when the day came, the Realm applauded your knighthood?"

"That... wouldn't happen."

"You can make it happen." Lightning suddenly struck the earth. "Rise above the doubt and become so great no one in the entire world could deny who you are. When young boys speak of the greatest knights of the past, Ser Ryam, Ser Aemon, Ser Barristan, Ser Arthur Dayne... let them speak of your name the same."

The look in her eyes reminded me of someone.

"Though, talk is cheap-"

"Spar with me again." Brienne urged, drawing her sword. "Your Grace."

"Didn't you already get your fair share..." I wondered with a look of concern. "I wouldn't want to wound you."

"Wounds are the seal of warrior's devotion."

"... I've heard something similar from somewhere." I smiled, drawing my own sword. "Very well."

Enhanced by magic, I swiftly knocked the sword out of her hand and followed up with a more gentle burst of lightning. She fell to the floor and I wondered if I was being too harsh. Though, the Others wouldn't hold such reservations.

"You should get some rest," I remarked. "Though your mind is willing, your body can't keep up."

"I... can still fight."

She made herself stand, only to collapse right after. I flashed forward and caught her before she could complete her descent. Upon closer inspection, she seemed to be unconscious.

"You're reminding me of Arthur, stubborn fool," I sighed, shaking my head. Though, traces of a smile did emerge. "If only I could pass around blessings like an actual God... I would give you the strength you seek."

I took her to a chamber and used my day's reserve of magic for a non-destructive purpose - for once. In this case, I used my least proficient element, which I had been practising the most in the past days. A wave of Hydro elemental energy surged from my body and spread out over Brienne. Given my lack of proficiency in that specific element, I needed more energy and time to achieve any desirable result.

I sat beside her for what was an hour, watching the effects slowly emerge.

'Enough power to wipe out hundreds of men... used to heal a single friend.' I chuckled. 'I'm a terrible support.'

"Edric..." She suddenly woke up, turning slightly rosy. "I mean, Your Grace-"

"I didn't expect you to wake up so soon. I was seeing how effective of a healer I'd be with my magic... and, well, I'm quite awful. Much better at obliterating my foes."

"I feel... great," Brienne noted, perhaps trying to make me feel better. "Good as new."

"Mhm..." I smiled. "That's good. Though, you should rest properly."

"If that's your wish. You should rest yourself, however. You've been running around all day and night."

"Comes with the territory... but I will." I nodded.

Right as I was about to take my leave, she spoke once more.

...

Days turned to weeks as I continued overseeing the affairs of the Night's Watch and training my Kingsguard. As Brienne would keep stubbornly trying again and again, I would also heal her each time... improving at it as I went along.

This time, I stood in the yard, having beaten all but one of my best warriors to the point that they could no longer put up a fight. The last one to stand was Brienne, whom I'd beaten a number of times already. Though, she kept her resolve.

I had a gut feeling that she was getting there.

Perhaps my magic flowing through her broke some sort of bottleneck...

Lazily, I raised my free right hand, and lightning shot out of my fingertips. It hit her straight on, though she didn't fall... only step back slightly. The blow hadn't been weaker than all the times before...

I saw a flicker of lightning around her body - and it was not mine. It seemed to be an aura of sorts.

Yes.

"It is as I first thought..." Raiden stated, watching beside me.

Before I could speak, she flashed forward with inhuman speed. Her sword stopped only an inch away from my neck. I blinked, bewildered. It had all happened so suddenly... I hadn't expected that in the slightest.

She looked just as surprised as me when she snapped out of it. The surrounding observers looked even more baffled.

"I did it... didn't I?"

"Yes, you did."

I smiled proudly, lowering her sword with my hand.

"I always knew you had it in you."

Raiden's Storm Chapter 101: Whole Of Body

[Edric's POV]

Right after my pep talk, things seemed to smoothen out and the whispers in the dark came to an end. Even so, I didn't grow complacent and focused on inspiring loyalty in the ranks of the former wildlings. I worked alongside them, shared their drinks, jested with them, trained them and filled them with sweet words about what the future could hold.

Alongside that, I had another focus. I knew I couldn't triumph over the Night King and his army alone. The scar on my face was a grim reminder of that. I was just one person who could only be in one place at a time. Where I'm absent, there would need to be other, magical and valiant heroes ready to take up the mantle of besting the Others.

I needed more men... or women... like Arthur.

"Right."

I gathered all my Kingsguard in the yard, holding a rather basic and light warhammer—my temporary replacement. Given my strength, it still did its job pretty well. One strong bonk to the head was more than enough.

"We've been sparring almost daily now, but... admittedly, I've been going pretty easy on you lot." I stroked my chin. "It's time I pushed you all to the brink."

"I am ready for any obstacle you throw at me, Your Grace." Brienne spoke with a dutiful tone.

"Why the sudden change?" Loras questioned.

"Well, to put it bluntly, none of you are where I want you to be. Yes, you've proven yourself the best amongst your peers... but that's not good enough. Ser Mandon and Ser Arys' deaths are proof of that." I pulled back my glove, tightening my grip around the warhammer. "There's a reason why I told you to withdraw while I advanced against the Others."

"Simply put, you're too weak to fight in such battles."

They all shared similar frowns or looks of disapproval, but none denied what I had said. I don't think the looks were for me, either, but rather, themselves.

"Had Ser Arthur been there... do you think I'd have told him to run too?" I added fuel to the fire, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Loras answered first. "You would have trusted him to hold his own."

"Quite right. In that scenario, Ser Arthur is the only Kingsguard I would trust to truly be capable of protecting me. Sooner or later, you all will meet the same fate as those who fell in Eastwatch - unless you awaken your latent talents."

I pointed the warhammer at each of them.

"I've never had any magic, Your Grace." Ser Balon looked sceptical. "I don't believe sparring can change that."

"Neither did Arthur. Not even a whisp of fire magic... nor some ancient magical bloodline to lean on. Yet, he did have a will that no one could match. Infallible loyalty and faith. The fire to overcome any struggle. These qualities sparked and awakened those talents hidden deep within when he needed them most."

"None of you are ordinary, either. Ser Balon, you are brave, valiant, and capable of using any weapon with lethal proficiency. Above all else, your exceptional skill with the bow is supremely rare - especially amongst knights. Ser Loras, you are a prodigy with no equal in regards to the lance, and your skill with the sword puts you into contention with the very best. As for Brienne, well, need I say much?"

"You are the sole woman to wear a white cloak in the history of the Kingsguard, and for good reason. Your size and strength are extraordinary, and your tactful mind in battle makes you an even more formidable foe than any unknowing man could imagine."

Though she didn't say anything, I could tell she took kindly to my remarks.

"From what I know, magic seems to awaken in those who seek more, those who defy standards and stand out amongst the crowd. You are all exceptional already; you only need an unrelenting desire to push you past the wall you're facing. That's why I'm here."

"Now... are you ready?"

"Any time." Loras drew his sword.

"Don't hold back." Brienne looked determined.

"Whenever you are ready, Your Grace."

"Brace yourselves," I warned as a layer of electricity sparked around me. Suddenly, the hammer felt as light as a piece of paper. "As I said, I won't be holding back as much."

Sooo... when I said it, I did mean it. I deflected Loras' first blow and sent him back with a spark of weaker lightning. Then, I sidestepped Brienne's swing and sent her down to the ground with a leg sweep. Balon tried to swipe at me with his sword, but I easily dodged every swing before the wind took him off his feet and smashed the knight against the wall.

"There's much work to be done, clearly."

Over three months would go by...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Status Page

Name: Edric Storm

Age: 13

Lord

Charm: 80 (Diplomat III)

Leadership: 72 (Inspiring Leader III - Recruiting is far easier based on your great reputation. Even former enemies can turn to your side.)

Steward: 50 (Midas Touch II - Able to get away with paying troops less than normal and able to manage resources more effectively.)

Warrior

Athletics: 100 (Titan V - Your strength, endurance and sheer size know no bounds)

Battle Instincts: 83 (Hyper Focus III)

Warhammer: 76 (Thunderous Warhammer III)

Knight

Sword: 85 (Swordskill IV)

Riding: 83 (Riding III)

Armour: 75 (Fortress III)

Ranger

Marksman: 115 (Sniper V)

Scouting: 72 (Scouting III)

Throwing: 84 (Throwing IV)

Smith

Blacksmithing: 42 (Blacksmithing II - Forging is quicker and more effective)

Engineering: 63 (Engineering III - Able to lead in more elaborate projects)

Stranger

Roguery: 30 (Serpent I)

Trade: 24 (Merchant I)

Medicine: 20 (*)

Mage

Storm Manipulation: 50 (Stormlord II: Hand of the Storm)

Greenseer: 15

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A new branch?

I stroked my chin, observing the two branches of medicine.

“The ‘Whole of Body’ sub-skill of the Medicine tree revolves around ensuring your personal health and recovery. Someone who has mastered this side of medicine is capable of enduring and recovering from the most vile of poisons, climates and wounds. Higher stages also provide substantial increases to one's life span and stall the negative impacts of ageing, allowing you to stay at your peak for longer."

“Whole of Body I: Less vulnerable to small wounds, recovery is quicker. Small increase to poison resistance."

I'm not getting old anytime soon... but the faster recovery and greater endurance sounds appealing.

"On the other end, the 'Doctor' sub-skill allows one to treat others with greater effectiveness. The higher you rise in this sub-skill, the number of things you can't treat will lessen until there is hardly anything beyond your ability. Your presence could also passively increase the recovery of those under you slightly."

"Doctor I - Your treatments are more effective."

If I had known the medicine tree was so useful, I'd likely have put more focus on it earlier. However, truly, all the skills have their uses. There's simply too many of them to grow all at once.

Though the Doctor sub-skill would definitely have its uses, the Whole of Body one seems to grant one semi-immortality... there's already been a handful of times where I've been exhausted for one reason or another and wasted time to rest. Due to how cold I imagine the North will be, this seems to be the right choice. If I can't fight at my best in the most pivotal battles... I doubt my ability to treat others will even matter long-term.

After thinking over it, I comfortably chose 'Whole of Body'.

"So you chose the selfish option, hmm?" Raiden raised an eyebrow. I knew she agreed with my choice, only that she was pulling my leg intentionally.

"Yes. Besides, I can master the doctor discipline when I don't have to worry about an apocalypse. Also... Whole of Body seems quite easy to increase, compared to doctor. All I need to do is keep myself healthy-"

"Mhm."

"What do you mean, 'mhm'? Look at these muscles and tell me I'm not healthy."

"All from scarfing down inhuman amounts of meat and putting your body through hellish training."

"Precisely!" I stroked my chin. "That's why it's ideal. The whole point of Whole of Body is the ability to endure and recover. Doubtless to say, this one will passively evolve without me even trying, as I'm always pushing myself. A match made in heaven."

"Soon enough, you'll be drinking poisons to evolve it further."

"What a brilliant idea." I blinked. "Due to the poison resistance, I should be able to survive and gain experience in the skill once I recover. That's how it works, right?"

"Affirmative. Drinking poisons, should you survive, would provide growth in the 'Whole of Body' tree." The system kindly replied.

"The world's first professional poison tester." I smiled, finding the thought amusing. "Once I reach its height, I won't have to be paranoid about a thing."

"Should you survive..." Raiden reinforced.

"Of course, I'll need to be careful." I nodded. "It's not a focus for now... but something to keep in mind for the future."

By now, the Nightfort was complete, and most of my former division of the Night's Watch had gone south to enact my plans of developing the lands under the Gift. Given the wildling raids in the past, much of it had been abandoned, but it was my intention to change that. The Watch needed its own supply of food and resources to accommodate the rise in numbers and future expansions.

It was by no means an easy thing to accomplish, but... an anomaly had occurred during this process. The fertility of the land seemed to spike strangely one day. Almost as if the North wasn't falling deeper into winter.

I had personally seen this change, though I didn't think too much of it and pushed the men to make the most of it. If the land could be developed quickly enough, the winter might not be so bleak for the Watch. I focused primarily on vegetables and fruits that could endure the cold.

Once everyone seemed on board, I left them to their devices for a short while and moved to Castle Black to see how things were going.

...

I had a meeting with Jon and he informed me of some things.

"You know, you really do have a poor habit of not informing anyone of your plans," I looked at Jon, shaking my head. It was one of the things that had led to his death. "You expect others to follow along with whatever you say and not question a thing. We might be able to see what's best for everyone, the bigger picture... but such is not the case for most of the people under us."

"True enough..." Jon acknowledged.

"The moment I leave, everything will fall on your shoulders. Leadership is about more than simply making the right decisions. The title of Lord Commander is not enough. You need to have the confidence of your people. As soon as you lose that... things can get quite grim."

Life advice from the guy who knows exactly how you would've died...

"It's not an easy thing to do. Men question everything I do."

"Welcome to my world." I smiled, chuckling. "Do you know how much doubt I get from others because of my age? I've battled for my decisions countless times before. Offtimes I even doubt myself... but such is life. You can't be entirely right in everything you do. The important thing is to learn from your mistakes and move on."

"It's unfortunate I could not have you for longer. Truth be told, you would make a greater Lord Commander than I would."

"That's untrue." I smiled, shaking my head. "Believe it or not, deep down, you know how to improve the Night's Watch better than I ever could. I give the illusion that I'm more capable... simply because of my might. You are of the North, you know the people, the land. You can think of ideas that I simply would not be able to on my own."

"That might keeps everything together. It is definitely a factor to consider... and, in that regard, I could never match you," Jon remarked.

"It takes more than strength to bring unity. You need to represent your people, be their voice and act for their betterment. I simply hammered them down... but I'm not the solution. You're the leader they need."

I had certainly gone into the habit of inspiring others. Once, it had been mostly a skill used in battle but it has found its uses outside of it. After my pep talk and some advice, Jon seemed more ready than he was before. I was getting closer to returning south...

While stable when I left, I couldn't be too sure that everything was going entirely according to my wishes in King's Landing. Unexpected issues could arise as well. Euron may just appear out of nowhere and start raiding everything in sight... who knows.

However, I have to settle things here first.

Raiden's Storm Chapter 100: Death And Life

[Daenerys’ POV]

Not soon after she rejected Hizdahr, just as foretold, the Sons of the Harpy had remerged and their killings continued. Or so… they tried. Dorian had predicted where they would strike and prevented any innocent lives from being taken. Alas, the very next day, they would succeed in slaying a group of freed men before being caught.

It was clear that the shadow war would continue. Since it had come to this, she now had to keep her word and put one of her hostages to the sword. Yet, when she gathered them up, her resolve had wavered. Most of them were but children, innocent of the bloodshed around them.

“They are not sweet as they seem, Your Grace.” Dorian stepped behind her. “Someday, should the Sons of the Harpy succeed, they will grow into the masters of tomorrow who carry on the legacy of slavery. They will not be any different… perhaps, given your revolution, they will be even worse than their elders to counteract the ideals you’ve instilled.”

“...” She took a deep breath, still writhe with hesitation.

"You truly do seek defeat." Dorian sighed with disappointment. "Your will and resolve is comparable to a bridge of sand, falling apart at the slightest wind. Like this... you will change nothing, in the end."

She closed her eyes as he began to walk away. She saw the killings continue without end, with even more zeal. He spoke the truth... if her threats did not mean a thing, why had she taken them hostage in the first place? How are the Sons of the Harpy to fear her if she cannot carry out her word...

The Sons of the Harpy would not surrender to a kind and merciful queen, no, they would only continue their fight... treading on her ideals of peace and freedom for all.

Only a Dragon could conquer them.

"Take one."

She spoke at last, opening her violet eyes.

Dorian slowly turned with an emerging grin.

"Yes, Your Grace."

In the blink of an eye, he tossed a dagger right in the skull of a master's son. The child's head went back as the dagger penetrated right between his eyes. He had been the sweetest of the bunch from her experience, yet he hadn't hesitated for a moment.

"You'd best remove the Sons of the Harpy as you promised... or that will be you someday."

"... Hm." Dorian first took caution with a raised eyebrow, which was followed by a slight smile. "Yes, Your Grace. I shall bring the Sons of the Harpy to heel."

...

The activities of the Sons of the Harpy ended for a time. The death of one of their own children suggested that more would come if they continued. A sort of reverse shadow war had broken out, with masters being beheaded night after night. Each killing was conducted in brutal, terrible fashion that left a sense of dread for all. Where the Sons of the Harpy would've attacked, it seemed that they were too terrified - too focused on defending themselves.

She predicted that only one man could've been capable... yet she hadn't given him permission to act in such a way.

"It's you, isn't it? The one responsible for the deaths of the masters..."

"Mhm." Dorian didn't feign ignorance, nor lie. "It was I. What of it?"

"I hadn't given you permission to commit any of it."

"I gave you my word that I would rid you of this thorn. How do you expect me to accomplish this if I must ask you for every little thing?"

"This is no small thing... you're turning the masters against my rule-"

"And they already are!" Dorian exclaimed, laughing afterwards. "You cannot have your peace while those husks take breath. Most, if not all, of them must die... for they stand opposite to the very thing you seek. In truth, the masters should've been executed the moment you took the city, but here I am, arduously undoing that mess."

"Now, if you give me the Unsullied, I'd only need a day to sweep Meereen clean."

"You've served me for so short a time, yet you are so unruly," Daenerys remarked with a frown. "How am I to know if your actions are just? Do you target just any former master that catches your eye?"

"Not just any, no, only the greatest offenders who could not live without a world with slaves. To that end, I've also uncovered undeniable evidence to support my claim of who the Harpy is..."

He took a book full of letters, documents and contracts, forwarding it to her. She opened it and began reading through the 'evidence'. The more she read, the more bewildered she was by how he was able to uncover so much in so little time. In most entries, they spoke of the 'Harpy', but one let her true name slip.

"There are so many of those masters that one is prone to make a mistake here or there... but no one unwanted would reach their private letters, would they?" He chuckled. "How clumsy. If you want more, I've kidnapped a couple of men who would squeal the truth if you agreed to let them live..."

"Show them."

~

The reverse shadow war had continued for a time, thining the ranks of the masters, until...

The last night had dawned upon the great masters.

The Unsullied were mobilised, and most of the Great Masters had been forcefully seized, which led to great resistance. The Sons of the Harpy rose up in defiance, but were swiftly put down by a storm of spears. Like a tidal wave, the Unsullied stormed the edges of the city and spread forward into the centre until it was swallowed whole.

Daenerys' great warriors all showed their prowess, from Ser Barristan to her queensguard. Though, above them all, was her newest vassal, Dorrian 'Dagger-hand', who commanded with cunning and tenacity - winning the night with hardly any notable losses.

The last place to be struck was the Temple of the Graces, where the Green Grace herself remained with remnants of the Sons of the Harpy. They had sought to use the myraid of chambers to sneak upon the Unsullied, but they only delayed the inevitable. With the direction of Dorian, the Unsullied were wise to such attacks and saw through the deceipt.

Soon enough, they were upon the main chamber where the Green Grace resided.

Galazza Galare sat facing the entrance, a shimmering green silk veil covering all but her eyes, which were of the same colour. They glared at the approaching sellsword.

"Your queen claims to seek peace, yet she hires the aid of the devil who only seeks chaos."

"Only seeks chaos, hm... that is rather unkind. Sometimes, death must come before life. For flowers to grow, the weeds and thorns must be removed." Dorian replied, straight-faced. "A day of chaos for years of peace is a worthy price."

"You think that you will have peace?" The old woman laughed. "I thought you would be wiser after so many years."

"It will not happen tomorrow, but time heals all wounds. Unfortunately, your ilk do not have a place in the new world."

"Is this act driven by your desire for vengeance? Or is it your hatred for slavery? I did not take you for one to be so selfless... you already have your freedom, why would you fight for another's?"

"There are causes greater than oneself."

"This war will not end..." Galazza Galare spoke as he continued to close the gap between them. "The Sons will continue to fight for what they believe is right from the shadows. Even if decades come to pass, they will keep fighting..."

"Dead men fight no battles."

With one swift stroke of his sword, he slit the Green Grace's throat.

...

In the middle of the night, Dorian entered the Great Hall covered in blood and with the head of Galazza Galare in his hand. He bent his knee and presented it before her. His officers followed, kneeling behind him, each presenting a head of a great master.

"As promised, I give you the head of the Harpy."

"With the masters of old slain, your reign can finally begin in earnest without disruption," Dorian stated with zeal. "The futile resistance of their remnants will continue, but they will be no more than flies waiting to be swatted. As I started this endeavour, I shall see it through... as promised."

"Though our methods differ, you have clearly served as the driving force behind their defeat and accomplished what seemed so difficult before. To aid your mission, I shall name you my master of whispers and grant you command over the city watch."

Daenerys annnounced, knowing that Skahaz mo Kandaq, who commands the Brazen Beasts would not wish to be replaced... hence she gave him a different title.

"May you put an end to the Sons of the Harpy and bring peace to the streets of Meereen."

"As you will, Your Grace."

~

[Edric's POV]

To begin erasing any idea of treason, Edric began to uncover those involved with the conspiracy. Whether through his warging into Freedom, Raiden's ghostly abilities, or even outright seizing men for questioning. He found the prime suspects and had them arranged for execution on the same night - rallying every man in the Nightfort.

There were looks of unease amongst some of the kneelers, whereas others looked more determined. The tension in the air was clear. The wildlings greatly outnumbered the rest... if any fighting broke out, they could overwhelm them.

"I know what you all must be thinking." Edric paced along the ten bound prisoners he had seized. "Oooh, there's more of us! We can take him and the crows - we can be free! Doesn't that sound wonderful? Freedom!"

"Oh, how we all yearn for freedom." Edric's eyes flashed a cold violet. "Now, pray tell, do you think I want to be around you lot - shivering in the cold? I shall be blunt and honest, truly... fuck no."

Edric's laughter echoed across the huge yard before he paused and took on a more serious expression.

"What you small-minded people do not understand is the bigger picture. See, in the miracle that you DO kill me, which is already unlikely... and, even more miraculously, manage to evade the wrath of my uncles along with those in the Realm who would yearn for vengeance... who, I assure you, greatly outnumber however many of you there are past the Wall... what then? Well, I'll enlighten you."

"In a year, three years, five years, however many years, the Others will breach the Wall and butcher every last one of you. By then, the Realm will be broken into pieces, with every power-hungry cunt trying to grasp a piece of it. There won't be a single thing any of you can do. There won't be a world for your sons and daughters, or even for yourselves. They, the Others, shall have it all..."

"And freedom? Heh, you will all be free to die and walk the land as the dead. There won't be fertile lands, or summer... everything will be frozen for the rest of time. Do you want that?"

The onslaught of words and the following final question left the men speechless. Of course, anyone short of a madman didn't seek that reality. It was more of a rhetorical question.

"It's either that or you keep the vows you swore and aid me in the coming times. This battle isn't just mine, or yours or the Night Watch's... it's everyone's battle. We will all struggle. Many of us will die, freeze, starve, lose our loved ones, but that's the price of this great victory."

"True, you lot can rise up the moment I leave, but... then what? I chase you all down and execute you for deserters. What do I gain from that? What do you gain? A stroke of freedom for an eternity in the ground."

"I implore you, not as your King, leader or superior, but as a person who seeks the greatest outcome for all." Edric clenched his fist and raised it to the sky. "Give yourselves to this cause, and I will give you a most radiant tomorrow! An endless summer, fertile lands and glory beyond anything you could ever dream of. With all of us united as one, there is no structure we cannot build, no foe we cannot overcome and no ice that will put out our flame!"

"ARE YOU WITH ME?!"

His roar shook across the land as a chain of lightning struck the earth... yet it could not silence the wave of roars that followed. Even the men who had been bound felt compelled to dedicate themselves to this cause. The magic of his charisma had shown itself, inspiring loyalty in those who had not too recently conspired to act for themselves.

"Forgive me, my King for even thinking of betraying you." The nearest on the execution block lowered his head. "Give me a second chance and I will dedicate my life to you."

"You are all fortunate."

Edric warmly smiled, the storm in the skies dispersing.

"I believe in second chances."

He freed all those who were due for execution, immediately dispersing all the tension in the air and winning the loyalty of a great number of those who were ready to draw their weapons against him.

"Though... let it be known that conspiring any form of treason from this point forward will mean forfeiting your life. With that said, you may all disperse now. Tomorrow will be a long day of work."

Edric turned and the wind, like a paid actor, swayed his cloak dramatically.

~

[Aegon's POV]

Ever since escaping Meereen, the dragon Aegon had attempted to bond with followed loosely. Seeing this, he had ordered them to settle on nearby land. The prince took a rowboat alongside Jon Connington and eventually stepped foot on land. The dragon remained in the skies, soaring freely. It saw a wild lamb across the hill and scorched it with one breath of flame.

Afterwards, the beast landed and feasted on its charred corpse. Seeing this, Aegon slowly climbed the hill.

"Move with caution..." Jon had warned him. "One wrong action and the beast can take your life in but a moment... and there would be nothing I could do to stop it."

"Worry not," Aegon spoke with confidence, a strong gust of wind brushing his silver-blonde hair. "Today, we shall be bonded without disruption."

The dragon glanced at him with one of its molten gold eyes, yet he did not hesitate and continued until he had gone all the way around to see its head. The dragon tilted its head with curiosity.

"You remember me, don't you?" Aegon slowly reached out to its head. "That's why you've followed us all the way here."

The dragon did not seem to disagree.

"Bond with me, dragon... and there will be nothing we can't achieve." The dragon seemingly lowered its head, allowing for his hand to touch it. "You and I... Viserion. Together."

The name jumped to him, even though he had not known it.

From then on, they would be as one.

Rider and dragon.

~

[Margaery's POV]

After a short autumn, winter had slowly reared its head. Even in Highgarden, one could see the difference. The days were colder, and some of the luminous flowers that once were had begun to suddenly wilt. Margaery had discovered a strange anomaly within her body... anything she touched for a long period of time would recover.

She sat near a wilted flower and watched it slowly rise from her hand. It was not something any maester could explain, yet she had an inkling of an idea. Her lips curled into a sweet smile as she touched her growing belly. This power was not hers, no... it was the growing child within. How could any child of Edric Baratheon, who could drown kingdoms with his might, ever be ordinary?

It reminded her of the legends of Garth Greenhand, who could bring fertility to the land. It was quite the contrast to its father whose powers solely revolved around destruction. She had begun to wonder what kind of greatness this child would achieve... the kind of joy it would bring.

As weeks passed, her belly grew more and more, abnormaly so - to the point that the maesters believed that she had been more than blessed.

"While His Grace is likely to sire a large child, this kind of growth could not possibly be achieved by one alone..." The maester paused, taking a deep breath.

"You mean..." Margaery's eyes widened. "There's more than one?"

"Yes. Twins, I predict."

"The Gods are truly kind." Garlan Tyrell smiled at the news.

"Twice the joy and twice the risk..." Willas Tyrell looked serious. "If this is true, you must take every precaution."

"What do you know of childbirth, child?" Olenna seemingly scolded Willas. "Every precaution was already taken. It will be more difficult now, however... you will need to be strong, Margaery."

"I will endure." Margaery managed a smile. "They are gentle and benevolent souls. If anything, they give me the strength I lack. It feels as if I am engulfed by His Grace's unrelenting spirit."

"Do not mention that little oaf." Olenna scoffed. "He would not even have you for a wife."

"... Tomorrow remains unwritten, grandmother. What is true today might not be the same in the days that come after."

Though, as time passed, she cared less about the goals her family had set for her and more about the future she could build with her children.

The days couldn't pass swifter as she awaited their birth.

[Author's Note]

Sooo funny thing about this is that originally, the vote decided that it would be a daughter, but then it evened out... so it led to this lil idea. Daughter, son, why not both?

Raiden's Storm Chapter 99: Seeds of Dissent

[Arthur's POV]

As the training of the royal guards continued, they began looking more like a proper household guard rather than a band of misfits. Once they passed the basics of combat, Arthur observed where each man’s strengths lay. While some people thrived in melee combat, others were better for riding or archery. Given that he was aiming to make them battle-ready as swiftly as possible, Arthur made every man focus on their strengths. Rather than being good at everything, he wanted them to be elite at one thing. Their fellow guardsmen would cover for their weaknesses.

However, no matter what they specialised in, every man would continue their physical training - albeit tweaked to suit their strengths better. Rhaerra was with the archers for the first time, who had numbered the greatest - per Edric’s desire. This time, instead of the usual bickering under Taelor, everyone stood in silence as if they had been frozen.

“Before you fire, ensure that you’ve chosen your target. Then, steady your feet and take a deep breath - keep yourself still. Nock your arrow, and once you’ve fully drawn… fire!” She gave a demonstration, hitting the dummy right where his eye would’ve been. “Don’t hold it for too long. Not only do you strain yourself and waste time, but you also lose strength in your shot and accuracy with it. To be a deadly archer, you must be swift and decisive.”

“Right… now you lot try it.”

The trainees ate it up like the finest advice in the world, yet Taelor had taught similar things before. They seemed to listen far better this time around, though… and it showed. They began making steadier progress.

“The magic of a beautiful woman asking you to do it against someone as dull as Taelor.” Valaegor chuckled, observing beside Arthur. 

“You know, I’m right here.” Taelor crossed his arms. “And I am not dull. They’re just bad listeners.”

“Not today.” 

“I’ve seen His Grace turn peasant boys who hadn’t seen a true battle into demons,” Arthur recalled Mistwood. Though many of them had died, they left their mark on the mountain clansmen. “I suppose it’s a matter of charisma and leadership. Simply being good at one skill does not mean you would necessarily be good at teaching it.”

“...  Mhm. You have no leadership qualities to speak of.” Valaegor added, glancing at Taelor with a grin.

“Says you. I wouldn’t trust you to lead a herd of sheep.”

While Arthur was observing, a man from Renly’s household guard approached. 

“The Lord Regent requests your presence in the Great Hall, Ser.”

“... Very well.” Arthur nodded. “I'll be on my way. Valaegor, care to take my place for the meantime?”

“You mean babysitting?” Valaegor laughed. “Sure, whatever.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm.”

“What’s this?” Rhaerra suddenly joined them. “Something about the Great Hall?”

“I don't recall Renly asking for you.” Valaegor raised an eyebrow.

“I’m curious as to what he has to say. It must be something entertaining. The Lord Regent is that - if anything.” 

“More jester than a ruler,” Valaegor remarked.

“Try not to make treasonous remarks that would get you into unneeded troubles.” Arthur smiled slightly.

“Try to remember I’m not under the Realm’s jurisdiction.”

“And yet you wish to be one of the King’s men.” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You should be setting an example for the men you’re training.”

“... Well.”

“He got you there.” Rhaerra laughed.

After leaving Valaegor in charge, Arthur rode from the practice fields to the Red Keep alongside Rhaerra, who had grown quite enamoured with the gossip of the court. She seemed to know every little rumour and piece of news as soon as it emerged. In this way, she reminded him of Dorian. Despite her low birth, she blended right in with the ladies of nobility, and soon enough, it looked as if they revolved around her.

Today, the Great Hall was buzzing with life, as per the Lord Regent’s desire. Arthur heard that there was prevalent news that all needed to know. He wondered what was of such importance…

“You arrived swiftly, Ser,” Renly remarked with a smile. “Or do you prefer sergeant?”

“Whichever suits you. Besides, it’s my duty to respond to the Lord Regent’s summons promptly in the absence of His Grace.”

“I believe an ordinary title such as Ser overlooks your great accomplishments at such a young age.” Renly stroked his chin. “Surely, such a prodigious knight deserves more.”

“His Grace has named me Knight of Nightfall before.”

“How very creative. Imagine if the Sword of the Morning was called the Knight of Dawn!” Renly chuckled. “Surely he could do better than that.”

“He’s not the best with names.” Arthur smiled slightly. “Though, I do not believe titles matter much. It is the deeds of a knight that determine his worth.”

“That may be true, but some knights do certainly benefit from a fine title. Think… Aemon the Dragonknight. Ser Aemon Targaryen does not sound quite as moving, does it? We often prefer the sound of things rather than their true worth. Though, that is not to say that the Dragonknight was not worthy.”

“I understand what you mean.” Arthur nodded. “I’m not too concerned with it, however.”

“Vanguard of the Eventide. Guardian of the Twilight. Bearer of the Nightflame.” Renly began firing off names no slower than Edric would arrows. “Hmm… Champion of the Stars, Umbral Sword, the Evenfall Knight…”

“The Eclipse,” Rhaerra added. “The Eclipse Knight.”

“Brings an air of dread,” Arthur noted. “I’d prefer something that sounds inspiring, if I did have a title.”

“Dread is no less useful, Ser. What opposition would the King face when his faithful knight is seen as one who blocks out the sun?”

Arthur pondered over it.

“Given your youth, there’s plenty of time to make your fame. Regardless… I shouldn’t keep all these courtiers waiting.”

Arthur nodded.

Renly smiled, turning away to the Iron Throne and making his ascent. The Hand stood to the side, not looking all too flattered. He rarely did. Though, Arthur did admire his steadfast approach towards justice and honour. He was a man of duty… without doubt.

When Renly sat down, a wave of silence washed over the Great Hall as men quietened. The Lord Regent sat rather comfortably on the Iron Throne in the King’s absence. Well, as comfortably as you could be with all those rusted blades of iron.

“Now, you must all be curious as to why I've gathered so many of you so hastily.” Renly’s gaze swept up the room. “Not long ago, news came from Highgarden that the lady Margaery of Tyrell had displayed clear signs of being with child. Though, as many of you have rumoured, the father is no ordinary man…”

Everyone in the court knew where this was going. 

"This child shall be my nephew's, the King's, very own firstborn!"

Renly announced with endless fervour as the court erupted in cheers under his influence, deafening those in disfavour. Arthur was one of them, feigning a smile. After the announcement, a feast would begin. In that regard, Renly was not too different from Robert. The Baratheons enjoyed their celebrations. All but one, anyway.

"What do you look so displeased?" Rhaerra questioned, smiling slightly. "Your greatest friend will be a father at ten-and-three, displaying quite the virility. He is sure to have enough heirs to foster an army of his own!"

"I don't think it's what he truly wanted." Arthur shook his head slightly.

"Few things ever go as we intend them to." She replied, shrugging. "The difference between thriving and coming short is whether or not you adapt to the unexpected. This situation could still very well play into his advantage in the future if he wishes."

"What do you mean?"

"Edric has only lost some honour and grace, which he can easily overshadow with a few great deeds," Rhaerra explained. "But Margaery's maidenhood is not something that can be restored. Inadvertently, they have tied themselves to him whereas he has not."

"Politics," Arthur remarked with a sense of distaste. "The whole world seems to revolve around it. Everyone is out for themselves, what they can gain, rather than seeing the bigger picture."

"Not everyone is so ideal and noble, ser. In truth, those who see this greater picture are too far and few in between. It all seems so well now, but the stability of this Realm rests on one person's shoulders alone... if Edric were to vanish, it would all crumble into dust."

"Surely not." Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Lord Stannis... would be the heir."

"And do you think the Lord Regent would fall in line? Would the rest of the Realm accept him as their King? It is a fickle thing, this unity. One piece falls, and a dozen more follow, one after the other..."

The burden seemed all the more greater to Arthur, who wondered how Edric faired in the North. This taste of freedom was refreshing - and so was training the men under him, yet something had been missing. In truth, he'd have rather been there by his side rather than in King's Landing.

Alas, he had been given his duties and intended to fulfil them.

Arthur's celebration had been light, where he ate his fill and only drank a slight bit. During this time, he heard a few stark conversations with his keen hearing. 'When one isn't talking, they shall hear all the more'... that is something Edric had once told him.

"Not all that much has changed. We traded Robert for a more youthful one."

"Not even Robert had been so daring as to target a lady of a great house."

"Target? This was nothing more than a bid for power from the Tyrells. The whore knew what she was doing when she slipped into a drunken boy's chambers. In all of this, the King is innocent."

"This will not be the last time, I am sure. The apple does not fall far from the tree, and I fear that this boy might be worse than his father."

He had listened in silence, pretending to drink and observe the dancing. By worse, it seemed like they suggested something akin to Aegon the Unworthy. Arthur did not believe them, yet he had no intention of making a scene and trying to justify it. The future would speak for itself.

After the celebration, he would return and join in on the training before night fell. Once it was dark, he returned to the White Sword Tower. It had been eerily empty recently... as if a relic of the past. For a moment, he strangely felt like he had been the last of the Kingsguard.

He shook this feeling off and walked over to the White Book, reading over a few pages as he had done many times before. He had been practising his penwork for months now, styling it after the White Book and still felt inadequate.

After staring at the outdated pages of his brothers, he took a deep breath and put ink to paper. Slowly but surely, carefully written words came, on after the other. He had practised them a hundred times before... knowing there was no room for error. These words would be immortalised for hundreds of years to come, after all.

Eventually, he updated all of the passages, but his own. It felt strange to write about his own deeds. He would have much preferred if the Lord Commander had done so. Despite this hesitation, once he started, he didn't stop... completing the White Book momentarily.

There will be more in time.

...

During one restless night, Arthur had woken up from a dream of a burning world. His body had felt not too different, as if he were sick... yet he had no reason to be. He looked to Nightfall, which rested within arm's reach. Instinctively, he sat up and drew it from its sheath.

He saw flashes of a dragon breathing into its steel, over and over again... yet the blade had remained black, as if all the flames had been swallowed by it.

Was this a magic trait of Nightfall? From what he knew, while Valyrian Steel could endure fire, he didn't know of a case where it strengthened the blade. Or... was this his own ability. Perhaps it was a mix of both. When it came to magic, it was as great of a mystery as any other to Arthur.

He went over to a torch that had yet to be ignited. He channelled his recently awakened magic, and saw a spark of a flame light up in the darkness. He concentrated further, spreading this spark to the torch. Within seconds, it ignited fully.

He grabbed the torch and casually held it against the blade... yet the light did not seem to dim all that much. Afterwards, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and concentrated on replicating his tournament showing.

Almost like the wind, a whoosh sound erupted.

When Arthur had opened his eyes, the fire from the torch was gone. All that remained was the moonlight from the chamber's window. The burning feeling in his body seemed to fade away... as if it had been let out all at once. He looked at the blade and felt the heat. It was almost as if the room itself was boiling.

All of this power had been building up inside...

He glanced at the sheathe and knew full well that returning it now would not be a good idea. He found a way to hang it by the hilt without the blade touching anything as he hastily dressed up. In the night, he'd go out and see if he could release the heat into the sky - sort of how Edric would channel his lightning into an arrow.

He focused and slashed upwards, watching as a trail of black flames erupted out and soared into the skies. An unfortunate bird had been caught by it, burning to a crisp in a mere instant. Arthur watched in bewilderment at this sort of strength.

It gave him hope, in a way. Hope that Edric wouldn't become so powerful that he would never have any use for him. He had been like that of recent... fighting more and more by himself. Before, he used to fight alongside him, and even rely on his strength, but now...

'This power of mine... the flames raging inside... it was my body telling me to grow.' Arthur realised, tightening his grip on Nightfall. 'Grow and adapt, or perish.'

After that, Nightfall had cooled down, and Arthur found himself falling into sleep almost the instant he put head to pillow.

[Edric's POV]

For the first time in a while, Edric decided to go on a more stealthy stroll. He hadn't trained his Serpent discipline tree much - being more occupied by other, more urgent matters. Yet, he was always curious as to what was the real thoughts of those in the Nightfort. All seemed well enough on the surface wherever he went... but this was only natural. His presence washed away all forms of descent.

The Nightfort was quite large, with many chambers, so Edric simply slipped by from corridor to corridor. He knew how to be quiet, despite his size. In the night, most men slept except for those keeping watch... but no one kept watch within the walls. Except for his own Kingsguard when he slept, of course.

It was easy to move around without making noise... until he heard something of interest. He glanced at Raiden and directed her to take a look. In response, she warped through the wall for a clearer hearing. After they finished talking, Raiden left, and he made his way to an empty yard.

"So... what were they talking about?"

"For how long do we have to bend our knees and build castles for these southerners? We could be far down south, enjoying the heat and fertile lands. We wouldn't be fighting for scraps and doing the crow's work for em." Raiden Shogun repeated what she had heard. "Then the other said... 'as soon as the King leaves far enough, we can free ourselves. There are plenty who think the same.'"

"The temptation to break down that door and put them all to the sword..." Edric remarked with an expression of sharp disapproval. "There are plenty who think the same, they said... how hopeless is this endeavour of mine? Was I wrong to put effort into it? Would it have just been better to slay them all?"

"Two choices lay before you." Raiden Shogun crossed her arms. "This is not something you can leave half-baked. You either, as you said, put an end to them... or you dedicate the time and effort it would take to turn them into your vassals permanently."

"What would you do?"

"Need you ask?" She questioned, tilting her head. "Given that I see them as more of a burden than an advantage, I would put them to the sword. Their barbaric culture makes them an unpredictable force that could betray you the moment you turn your back to something else. Imagine the trouble you'd have to go through travelling from King's Landing to the North just to put them down... and, even if you could gain their loyalty, how long would it take? How much effort and time would you exhaust for these people? What of your lords, especially those who deem this act akin to betrayal?"

"When Winter comes, I don't believe they'll be anything more than more mouths to feed..."

Strangely enough, the more she spoke against his previous decision, the more he felt like seeing it through.

"It's the easier path, for sure." Edric leaned against a wall and slipped down till he was sitting on the ground. He grabbed a handful of snow and watched it slip through his hand. "Killing those I have no care for is so simple. It's hardly any different from breathing."

"But..."

"But?"

He clenched his hand, and the snow moulded together.

"I once chose the discipline of the Inspiring Leader for good reason. I've come this far, and I won't change my mind because of a potential setback. I've practised my diplomacy and other such skills for this very reason." He raised himself up, dusting off the snow. "Rather than slay these fools who don't see the bigger picture, I'll enlighten them and instil peerless loyalty into those who'd otherwise rebel."

"I'm glad I could help you make up your mind." Raiden smiled dryly. "Even if it's the opposite of what I advised. Though... I shouldn't be too surprised. You are always so stubborn."

"You have my thanks." Edric chuckled. "You have the names of the men in that room, yes?"

"Mhm."

It seems I'll need to be more hands-on.

He thought to himself.

Raiden's Storm Chapter 98: Uncovering

“What dream would that be?”

“A dream where no man, woman or child is ever enslaved. A dream without war and needless bloodshed. A dream of a unified world - under one banner!” The man pointed right at her. “That is a dream only a single King and Queen can realise… together, side by side.”

“... A unified world?” She questioned. “Did Edric send for you?”

It sounded beyond any sort of possibility, for not even the Valyrian Freehold had reigned over all of the Known World… not even close.

“Of course, though his intentions were slightly different. He came to realise that Barristan’s talents were wasted in this place and sent me to make amends. As a matter of fact, I do have this letter…” He took it from under his cloak, waving it. “You may wish to read it, Ser.”

“That is the royal seal…” Ser Barristan had observed.

“Mhm.” The sellsword smiled. “And the King’s words, no less.”

Daenerys looked at Barristan and nodded, watching as he walked closer to receive the letter. He returned to his position by her side and read the letter afterwards.

“It seems to be his writing... yet this cannot be true.” Ser Barristan denied, shaking his head. “It must be forged. I wouldn’t put it above you doing such a thing.”

“And if it isn’t? Your excuse for disobeying your King would be… ‘I didn’t trust the sellsword who has been by your side for years, even before me’? Will you allow your misconception of my nature blind you into going against your sacred oaths that you treasure so dearly?”

“And if it were forged, I would have been fooled by an already untrustworthy man.” Barristan countered.

“If it were forged, Ser, you’d be going back to your King’s side… where you should be… with a dragon egg of endless value. I scarcely doubt Edric would be dissatisfied either way. If anything, you’re doing him a disservice by not trusting me.”

It seemed like it was not the first of their disagreements, Daenerys observed. Even if it was, they must have had an underlying disapproval of each other. They had seemed opposite sides of the same coin, if the sellsword were truly loyal…

“A dragon egg?” Daenerys questioned.

“Oh, don’t get greedy now, Mother of Dragons. That one is for my King.” The sellsword chuckled. “Lost in time, from before the demise of the Valyrian Freehold. The ‘Old Blood’ of Volantis had laid claim to it, but I swindled it away.”

Ser Barristan looked conflicted. No doubt, he wished to return to the side of the King he praises so often... yet knew that the man delivering the letter couldn't be trusted. After a look of thought, he seemed to make his decision.

"I cannot leave on these terms. My mission is still largely incomplete." Ser Barristan turned to Daenerys. "I was commanded to obey her as I would him... and shield her. As things stand, she is in a vulnerable position and, only her word can send me away. I'm sure His Grace would agree with this decision."

He looked dissapointed by the knight's decision.

"Don't look surprised when you are punished for disobeying his orders. I won't waste my time if you can't see reason." The man turned to her as well. "Where do you stand with Edric? Do you consider him your enemy? Now, or in the future?"

"..." She took time to consider this and found her answer less cut and dry than it would've been before. "Neither enemy nor ally. As of now, my eyes are set on Meereen and righting the wrongs of my actions. I wish for Meereen to prosper... and regain my dragons. As things stand, my only enemies are the Sons of the Harpy and the Golden Company for their deceit."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend." He remarked, grinning slightly before bending the knee and taking upon a more stern expression. "Allow me, Dorian, to pledge my loyalty to you for a year. A year, and I will remove the thorn at your side, the so-called Sons of the Harpy. One son at a time, if I must."

"How can I trust you?"

She had been betrayed far too many times to be quick to trust a 'helping hand'.

"I was sold into slavery in my youth, trained to fight and kill. I fought and fought over and over again, wherever my masters deemed fitting, winning my 'freedom' by impressing another. Yet, I continued fighting... only for someone else. Only after carving a path of blood, was I truly free - yet my entire life had been built upon fighting. I continued doing the only thing I knew how to do, except I chose to do it for myself only thereafter."

He spoke with true sincerity, a kind of sincerity that was hard to question.

"You can't trust me, truly. I've served my own means all my life... whether it was gold, love, fame, freedom or survival. Yet, there's only so much a man can accomplish living for himself. For the first time in my life, I've put myself under a greater purpose." He lowered his head. "One day, Edric Storm will stand at the summit of this world. Where the dragonlords looked like gods and had their dragons, Edric... his power will be that of a god's, surpassing any man who came before him. It will be his hand that leads this world into an age of chaos or salvation."

"Now, who better to stand by his side other than the miraculous Mother of Dragons, who chose to use her power to do what was right. Of course... not all went as greatly as you had wished, but the intention behind it was pure. Together, you can change everything."

"To see that new world realised... I'll do everything in my power. You can trust me in that. I don't wish for anyone to be scarred as I was."

She recalled his desire to remain faithful to his betrothal.

"Even if he disproves?"

"He'll come around to doing the right thing." Dorian chuckled. "After all, who do you think taught him politics?"

"... I will think on it."

After a discussion, a small number were for Dorian, whereas others were firmly against him. She soon realised that it was in Meereen's fighting pits that he had earned his freedom, still remembered as a fighter who hadn't lost a single contest by Meereen's nobility. The most disapproving was Daario, for reasons Daenerys didn't even have to guess. Ser Barristan remained distrusting, yet he admitted that Dorian was a man of great ability.

"If anyone can remove the scourge that is the Sons of the Harpy, it would be him." It looked hard for him to admit. "He had caught the sly Littlefinger and has served as His Grace's shadow for some time. Though I would not trust him, it is true that he has only acted in His Grace's favour and contributed greatly to his cause. The same... could be true for you as well."

It was a gamble, but one she found herself strangely confident in after thinking over it.

...

"Thank you for accepting me into your service."

Dorian sat down at her table as instructed. The room was well-secured by a number of Unsullied, who eyed him very closely. She watched him casually pour some wine and drink, seeing the resemblance in mannerisms between Dorian and Edric.

"Unfortunately, I have made a promise to marry Hizdahr if he can give Meereen ninety days of peace-"

"Mhm." Dorian didn't look amused. "While being wed would certainly be ideal in strengthening the alliance, you needn't marry Edric specifically."

"You seemed to suggest such a thing."

"Mayhaps a little. Ultimately, all that matters is that you work together for the greater good. Now... my main concern with this marriage is the factors behind it. You intend to marry someone because he promised that he would be able to cease the murders committed by the Sons of the Harpy... and has carried out this promise. Does something sound off about this to you?"

"My advisors do believe it suspicious," Daenerys admitted, nodding slightly. "But I do not believe he has a hand in their deeds... merely, the Sons of the Harpy are in favour of me marrying a respected noble of Meereen."

"And what dragon weds someone beneath them?" Dorian questioned with a sharp tone. Before she could retort, he continued. "Aegon the Conqueror had been offered such marriages before. Argillac Durrandon had offered his daughter as a third wife, and Sharra Arryn had offered herself only if her son were his heir."

"What you plan to do is far worse than either of those. You're bending to the desires of your enemies. Do you think it will get better after you show your weakness and do as they seek? How naive..."

It was strange for a subject to openly insult her without a care in the world. Yet... his blunt and honest nature was a breath of fresh air. Normally, she wouldn't tolerate it, yet, given recent events, felt it was all too true. She had been too naive to believe that the Golden Company would return empty-handed. She had been no less naive to see the betrayals by Mirri Maz Duur, Pytat Pree and Jorah Mormont before that.

Betrayal after betrayal after betrayal... why would Hizdahr be any different? She had been so desperate for peace that she wanted to believe in him...

"Go on." Daenerys poured some wine for herself, eyeing the sellsword. "What do you predict would happen if I went through with it?"

"Hahaha." Dorian laughed. "Awful things, my Queen. Once you give them a hand, they will seek an arm and a leg. I predict they'd ask you to reopen their beloved fighting pits... for 'free men'! They won't say where these free men came from, but rest assured, they'd be no better than slaves. They'll continue seeking compromise after compromise... until..."

He drew his dagger and made an imaginary slash across his neck, grinning afterwards and pointing the weapon at her.

"They kill you."

He suddenly stood up from his seat.

"Then all the floodgates will open and everything you've ever done for Meereen will be undone." His single eye stared at her as he leaned against the table. "Do you want that to happen?"

"... Of course not."

"Then tell Hizdahr that he has no business wedding a dragon."

"And then what?" Daenerys questioned. "The killings will continue..."

"The Sons of the Harpy are the masters who seek the ways of old, and you are their very nemesis. When they come for war, you cannot win unless you reply in kind with Fire and Blood... until none remain. You must fight. There are no compromises."

"They are not so simple to fight. They work in the shadows, and their identities are unknown until they don the mask."

"Surely you've realised that they are Meereenese nobles... I've heard you had quite an number of their family members as hostages. Why not use them to deter the killings?"

"That was my intention, but they continued... and I couldn't bring myself to have them executed."

"And you gave your word that you'd execute them if the killings continued, yes?"

"... Yes."

"You're answering your own questions, Daenerys. The truth is you're too soft." Dorian sighed, shaking his head. "How are the Sons of Harpy to take you seriously? You made such a threat and went back on it, making the hostages meaningless... you may as well have returned them home!"

His laughter echoed across the dining hall.

"Is your tone similar when you speak with Edric?"

"When he does something stupid, I do make fun of him, yes," Dorian chuckled. "Think of it like this: your refusal to kill a few hostages leads to the killing of many more innocents. The means are not the best, of course, but the ends are worthwhile. I strongly doubt it will cease their activities entirely, but it will deter them..."

"And for how long?" She questioned.

"Long enough for me to investigate the leading hands of these sons of the Harpy. Do you agree?"

"..." She hesitated for a moment. She had been too gentle for too long... now she stood with no dragons, less Unsullied and countless innocent corpses. He was entirely right. If she continued to be a pushover, they would treat her like one. "If the killings continue... yes. The hostages will pay the price."

"Good. Now, I have some questions... did anyone endorse Hizdahr to you before these ninety days?"

"There were some... but the main influence was the Green Grace, Galazza Galare. She suggested him specifically if I wanted to achieve my desired peace."

"How curious." He grinned, his eyes lighting up before he turned around and began pacing from one end of the room to the other. "How very curious. That is a name I do know."

"... You fought in Meereen's fighting pits, didn't you?"

"I suppose you were informed." Dorian nodded. "Aye, I did. I know all these deep-rooted slaver families like the back of my hand... even after all these years. Nevermind me, this woman... she endorsed Hizdahr?"

"Yes..."

"She is a figure who is well-connected with the masters and holds great influence over them. They treasure her wisdom and position as their high priestess. Old as dirt, seemingly kind and peaceful, yet a cunning, deceitful snake all the same. I scarcely doubt her nature has changed at all."

"That can't be true." Daenerys' eyes widened in denial. "Are you suggesting that she..."

"In places of intrigue, the first language is lies," Dorian spoke in a lecturing tone. "It's always the ones you expect least... she might very well be the hand pulling all the strings. The Harpy."

"You can't make such an accusation without undeniable proof." She didn't want it to be true, yet it became less and less of a surprise as the moment passed.

He finished his cup of wine and smiled.

"I'll discover enough proof for a thousand death sentences, don't you worry."

Raiden's Storm Chapter 97: In Concert

[Edric’s POV]

The duel began in earnest, with Jaime swinging overhead. Loras parried the strike, slashing at the Lannister’s side. In a flash, Jaime withdrew… yet Loras’s blade narrowingly grazed his left arm.

No way it ended that quickly…

“Is that the end of the duel?” I questioned, grinning slightly as I came closer.

Upon inspection, the wound had opened to a few drops of blood.

“That… is first blood.”

“Hardly a proper strike.” Jaime scoffed. “If it were a proper duel, I would’ve won.”

“You looked so confident beforehand as well. It’s quite unfortunate.”

“You.” Jaime turned to Loras. “Surely you are not satisfied by such a fluke of a victory?”

“You will not be fighting Ser Loras further. I am your opponent from now on.”

“... You?” Jaime looked surprised as he looked back at me.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared now.” I chuckled, drawing out my Nodachi from my chest. No one had quite gotten used to that magic technique as most of the audience looked bewildered.

“... What did you just do?"

"Drew my sword," I replied bluntly.

"From yourself?"

"Yeah. I learned how to do it a good while back."

I spoke as if it was perfectly normal.

"It makes one wonder if you truly are a god." Jaime mused.

"Heh." I chuckled. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not."

"... What of the sword? I've not seen its kind before."

“I forged it myself.” I proudly announced, drawing it out of its long sheath before handing the sheath to Dallin. “Ain’t she a beauty?”

"Quite the long blade."

"I'd say it's only fitting." I flicked my wrist and twisted its blade in the air. It was well-balanced, not too heavy nor too light. It was time to test it out in proper combat. "Using a shorter sword would be a waste of my strength and size."

"The length of your sword matters little if you don't know how to use it."

I thought about it for a moment and kept my laughter. That sentence had more than one meaning.

"Right. Let's begin."

I began with an overhead stance, slashing down from a distance. As Jaime reacted, I turned it into a feint and twisted my blade in an almost quarter-circle motion to strike his side. He reacted to that, too, blocking the blow. His speed was greater than I anticipated, yet...

With my superior strength, I pushed him slightly off-balance behind the weight of my sword.

He's strong, too. More so than I expected.

Before I could continue my attack, quick as a flash, Jaime stepped forward and closed the distance between us. In the blink of an eye, I felt the deadly presence of his sword. That sword hand had slain a great many foe...

My reaction speed was just quick enough, leading to me narrowingly sidestepping the attack.

"A lesser man would've died there," Jaime remarked.

"Don't flatter yourself. That slow of an attack wouldn't even graze my squires."

"... Let's see how long you can keep your confidence."

"As long as I draw breath."

He seemed to smile slightly before advancing once more.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

His attacks were deathly swift and precise, each following up after the last in an effort to shred apart my defence. I reacted quickly, keeping my distance as I blocked each strike. As he continued, I began to adapt to his style and...

Deflected his sword to the side.

I advanced forward and left one hand from my sword, unpredictably elbowing him right in the face.

He stepped forward, and I kept advancing, seeing an opportunity. I grasped the Nodachi with both hands and thrust right to his chest. Unable to withdraw in time, he put up his sword in defence only for me to twist the angle of my strike into a slash against his neck.

It had all happened in an instant, catching him off guard.

"Lightning strikes twice."

I grinned slightly, observing his bewilderment. There was a resounding sound of awe among the spectators.

Though I wasn't as fast as Jaime overall, I was more explosive than him.

"I didn't even see that one," Jaime admitted, his eyes widening. "When did you have the time to sharpen your skills to such a degree? Your defence is nearly peerless."

"Well..." I chuckled, stepping away and lowering my sword.

I wanted to glance at Raiden.

Lots and lots of beatings...

"Practice, I suppose."

"Let us spar again."

He spoke, his eyes lighting up. Was it excitement in those eyes? Perhaps he had grown tired of beating on those who couldn't fight... or he sought to defeat me in a similar fashion. Regardless, I wasn't going to back away from a challenge.

"I'll best you as many times as you'd like," I answered with a casual tone, shrugging my shoulders nonchalantly.

"Don't get too arrogant now, boy."

"Have you looked in the mirror, Ser?" I raised an eyebrow.

We'd clash numerous more times as I carefully observed his techniques and began to use them against him. He did something similiar, learning to predict some of my more unpredictable strikes. It became more of an everchanging game of chess than a spar. Any sort of mistake on my end led to defeat... and it was no different for him. However, I won more clashes than I lost, utilising my reach and strength advantages.

Now, if we were in full plate armour and I was using a warhammer... well, the result was obvious.

However, when it came to the Others, my warhammer had been... far less effective. It was certainly impactful when enhanced by magic, yet an enhanced sword was swifter and deadlier. On the other hand, my armour was no more than silk to their slim blades of chilling ice. I couldn't fight the Others the same way I would armoured human opponents... which is where all the sword training comes in.

Ultimately, my bow, sword and warhammer had their strengths and weaknesses. The range of the bow, the impact and raw power of the warhammer, the swiftness and precision of the sword... to overcome the Night King, I knew I needed complete mastery over all three weapons.

...

During my sleep, I decided to grab some of the books I had been planning to read but didn't have the time for. Raiden sat down next to me beside the cherry blossom tree. She looked surprised by my choice of night time activity, raising an eyebrow.

"Books won't sharpen your sword."

"Books will sharpen my mind, however." I smiled slightly. "Knowing the mysteries of this world is quite important. Perhaps I'll discover something about my icey nemesis..."

"Hm... you believe so?" She grabbed one of the books and began flipping through the pages.

Though, as I looked closer, it looked like her eyes were moving rapidly. Was she reading that quickly? Now, I'd proudly call myself a quick reader, but she made me look like a sloth...

I returned to my book and focused on its contents. Though, before I knew it, Raiden closed hers.

"Bored already?" I chuckled.

"Finished."

"Finished?" I raised an eyebrow, glancing at the book she put down. It certainly wasn't a small one.

"Finished."

"Hm." I looked at my book as a feeling of inadequacy crawled up my spine. That's likely a speed that I'd never reach. "Feel free to continue..."

Something that would've taken a night or two turned into an hour at the most. Though, her having the knowledge wasn't nearly the same as me having it. Afterwards, she taught me everything worth noting which definitely helped.

"It's rest time," Raiden stated once her lecture came to a close.

"I don't feel tired at all." I shook my head. "Let's spar instead."

"Though your body recovers perfectly in this world as it sleeps, your spirit is a different matter entirely. " Raiden observed. "Being entirely awake every hour of every day impacts your soul. I know how eager you are for greater power, however... there is only so far you can push yourself before you break. You know this full well."

"I know what's at stake, too."

"Then you'd be wise enough to relent. Your people don't need a sharp sword alone." She raised her hand, tapping my forehead, "They need your mind to be sharp just as well"

"..." I chuckled, realising she had twisted my words against me. "Fair, fair. I'll rest."

As what had become a routine comfort, I rested my head on her lap. Given that my magic had been awakened by her and blossomed because of her blessings, our bond was beyond physical or mental. It was spiritual in a sense. Her being was bound to mine, and the opposite was no less true. Her touch brought a warm, serene sense of... home.

Almost instinctively, I had gently taken her free hand and held it close to my chest.

"You're beginning to put what I taught you into practice. The old you would've lost to Jaime Lannister in a contest of swordsmanship more often than not." She remarked, stroking my hair.

"Yeah, my sword skill wasn't up to par," I admitted, looking up at her with a slight smile. "Isn't it quite uncomfortable for you to sit in that position for so long?"

"I was not made to be deterred by discomfort."

"The world is a sea of troubles, discomfort and the like. Being capable of enduring it is, indeed, a fine trait to have... but."

"But?"

"Well, we had a saying in my world. 'Work smart, not hard.'" I chuckled, stroking my chin. "I wasn't too great at that one, admittedly, but I did learn a few ways to make things easier while still accomplishing the same amount of work."

"And how would that apply here?"

"Well... just because you can stand discomfort doesn't mean you should." I rolled to the side and pulled her by her hand.

She ended up rolling on top of me, her violet eyes glowing a softer shade under the moonlight.

"I swear you didn't drink a thing, yet..."

"Yet?" I grinned slightly.

"You're bolder than ever."

"The whole lap-resting thing was your idea; I'm only improvising it. Wouldn't it be more comfortable for both parties if we embraced each other?"

"The cheek." She smiled slightly in doubt as her hair began to sprawl over me. "Are you certain it's not an excuse to do something more devious?"

"Whatever do you mean?" I blinked innocently. "I am just a thirteen-year-old boy seeking comfort."

She leaned in closer, whispering in my ear.

"And nothing more...?"

The blood in my body rushed, and my rising heartbeat reflected that. She was moving differently... and quickly, at that. I hadn't expected it.

She sat up, looking amused.

"I don't think I've seen you look so flustered in a long time."

"Well... you did catch me off-guard." I glanced away. She's been learning a bit too much from the seductresses around me. "Besides, I never expected you to act in such a way."

"Don't look so surprised when you play with lightning and find yourself struck by it."

"I'll need to be more careful, then."

"You don't have to be if you don't want to."

"... Isn't that a bit fast?" I blinked.

"You believe so? Our time might very well be limited, Edric Storm."

"What makes you think that?"

"You should know, deep down." Her expression looked bittersweet. "There is no certainty that both of us will exist past this winter. Especially..."

"No." I sat up, tightly grasping her left hand with my own. "We will overcome it. Together."

"You said something similar before during one of your drunken episodes," Raiden remarked.

"And what did I say, exactly?" I asked out of curiosity.

"A world without you isn't worth living."

"Not a single word was a lie." I smiled, looking right into her eyes. "I wonder what I did after..."

"You should be able to guess."

"Shall I replicate it?"

Instead of answering my question with words, she edged closer and pressed her lips against mine. After the first, it felt all too natural to my body. One kiss became many as we laid down together and spent the night in each other's embrace.

In a way, our embrace was more beautiful and warmer than a night of lust would have been.

~

[Daenerys' POV]

With the escape of her dragons and the subsequent chaos that erupted, Daenerys focused on Meereen's stability and had her men investigate how the Great Pyramid had been breached. Meanwhile, the Golden Company had sailed far out of reach, their purpose unknown. While they had hindered her, it didn't seem like they had truly taken one of her dragons... but it was likely that their intent was to claim one.

She was torn between staying in Meereen or going back on her word to focus entirely on searching for her dragons.

Then, a curious middle-aged man sought an audience. An eyepatch covered one eye, while the other was deep blue to the point of nearly being purple. Barristan seemed surprised by his presence, if not disapproving. Who was he?

Missandei recited her titles as per usual, which seemed to amuse the individual.

"The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Shackles and the Mother of Dragons... must get tiring having to say all of that every time there is an audience."

The man scratched his black hair.

"What are you doing here?" Ser Barristan voiced his confusion.

"Who are you?" She raised an eyebrow, adding to his question.

"A sellsword... with a dream."

He spoke with a fierce determination.

Raiden's Storm Chapter 96: Blood Of The Dragon

Before battle had engulfed the Great Pyramid, there was an eerie silence. No harpies had drawn their daggers, and the wind blew ever so softly. Even so, most of the Unsullied patrolled the streets per Daenerys’ orders. The Unsullied watching the entrance were disciplined enough to remain focused and not grow complacent where other men would have. The Great Pyramid’s main entrance would be barred from sunset and only open at first light.

As it was in the middle of the night, there was hardly a chance that anyone would break into the Great Pyramid. The entrance was well reinforced, of course, for this used to be the fortress of the ruling class of Meereen.

Alas, their eyes were too fixated on what was outside to see the serpent that lurked inside.

Brazen Beasts, the masked city watch dedicated to Daenerys' Meereen... who is to say that the serpent of yesterday was the same one as today? No one had known - not until it was too late.

Under this disguise, a shadow had broken into the underground, joining a group of Brazen Beasts intended to defend and feed Daenerys' dragons. He followed intently and in silence - helping carry a sheep. They travelled through a path of arches, vaults, cisterns and torture chambers. One without prior knowledge would've gotten lost in a maze of structures.

Before long, they were met with large, forbidding iron doors that stood sealed by chains where each link was thicker than a man's arms. The previous shift of brazen beasts acknowledged their arrival, exchanged the key and nodded, walking in the opposite direction. 

Some time had passed as the group mentally prepared themselves.

Right as the giant iron doors were unlocked, a sense of tension arose amongst the brazen beasts... all but one. They began to slowly enter.

A sheep slid to the side as one of them let go.

In a flash, the serpent drew its sword and dagger - driving one through a man's chest and the other through another's neck. Both let out sounds of anguish that echoed through the halls.

Before the rest could ready themselves, he withdrew his bloodied weapons and tossed the dagger into one's knee. The pain overwhelmed the brazen beast, leading to the serpent slashing his throat open. By then, only two opposing beasts remained. A rat and owl.

The rat drew his sword and slashed at the serpent, who easily deflected the blow. Meanwhile, the owl charged in with his spear - aiming to pierce through the distracted serpent. The serpent was swift, however, and deceptively strong. He grabbed hold of the rat and threw him into the owl's charging spear.

The owl pierced right through the rat... its eyes widening behind the mask.

The serpent dashed towards the owl and swiftly slashed at his throat, not even giving the man an opportunity to react.

The owl retreated slowly, clawing at its slit throat as blood flowed out continuously. 

Finally, the serpent drove its sword through the owl and put it out of its misery. In the end, only the serpent remained. 

He could hear some footsteps behind him. With haste, he returned his weapons to their side and grabbed the dead sheep he once held along with a torch one of the brazen beasts had prepared. In the pit of darkness, a violent roar like no other erupted. Orange-yellow flames with veins of green spewed out of the dragon, bringing light to the darkness and showing the terrifying beasts before him.

Where other men would have filled their breeches and retreated with haste, never to return... the serpent remained still. The dragon that had nearly burnt him alive was green and bronze, with jade-green wings. The other, which was barely lit, still shined quite bright with its cream-coloured scales and golden horns. 

"Iksan daor aōha qrinuntys."

(I am not your enemy.)

The serpent commanded with confidence in fluent High Valyrian, stepping forward. The two dragons, indeed, remained still until its torch let him see them clearly. By then, he was very much within biting distance - let alone fire. What chains they once had were melted or shattered, binding them no more.

"Majestic as you are terrifying." The masked man observed from a slight distance, glancing back at the open entrance. He continues in High Valyrian."No dragon should be chained and hidden from the world. Break free from this cage - claim the skies and thrive. Don't take food like some dog; hunt what you seek, and be greedy. You are dragons... beasts with no worthy rival other than yourselves."

The sounds of advancing guards suddenly paused as they reached the entrance and observed the sight. 

"Will you let those doors be shut once more?”

Before the serpent could finish, Rhaegal advanced and flew right past the guards - knocking almost all of them down. Viserion looked at the dead sheep laid on the ground for a moment before pouncing on it and swallowing it whole. Afterwards, it raised itself upwards and followed in Rhaegal's shadow.

"Well." 

The man chuckled.

"Already forgot about me..."

He turned to the exit and sprinted ahead, tactfully avoiding the other Brazen Beasts while they chased after him.

…

From within, there was a second group of Brazen Beasts lurking in plain sight. Distant, mythical roars sounded from the entrance that led to the pits. Once they heard this, they sprang into action and approached the confused Unsullied. The last thing they expected on their shift is to hear dragons on the other side.

Knives and swords were drawn, and half of them fell in an instant. The next half were caught at a grave disadvantage, their spears being too long of a weapon. The Brazen Beasts worked together to slay them all. Afterwards, more Unsullied in the area has begun to approach with urgency. The Brazen Beasts swiftly unsealed the entrance…

It burst open, one dragon leaving and then the next.

Rhargal breathed fire upon the approaching Unsullied, torching then alive. With the dragons dealing with everything in their path, the Brazen Beasts tagged along to the main entrance… unsealing it from the inside.

And so, the dragons were free to soar in the skies once more.

…

The moment those distant roars had resounded, golden shadows tensed.

When the Great Pyramid’s main entrance burst open, a fire arrow soared in the sky and golden swords were drawn from the shadows in response. More arrows shot out, putting some of the Unsullied outside the Great Pyramid. A unified roar erupted as they charged forth.

“Beneath the gold, the bitter steel!”

~

[Aegon’s POV]

The Unsullied guarding the entrance were caught unprepared and isolated, leading to their swift deaths. Aegon watched with widened eyes as he saw dragons, real dragons. They were stories no more… they were just as alive as he was.

What was just as bewildering was that everything went as the mysterious man had predicted.

He had single-handedly made this possible and so Aegon felt obligated to ensure his escape by having the Golden Company breach the Great Pyramid - securing it just about long enough for the half-doze  disguised Brazen Beasts to flee.

Was he among them? Aegon couldn't be sure…

However, that was not his focus. He saw an opportunity and chased after the cream coloured dragon into the streets.The other dragon had already taken to the skies, soaring away from the scene.

“Wait.”

He yelled out in Valyrian, knowing that was the tongue dragons answered to. The dragon paused, turning to him. For a moment, his heart jumped in fear… as was natural. Yet, that fear slowly faded as he stepped closer. 

I am of the blood of the dragon.

This is my fate.

I was born for this.

“You lack for a rider, don't you?” 

Its eyes were of molten gold, almost radiant in the night. He felt something in his body… a bond. In his heart, he knew the dragon would not harm him. That gave him courage to step even closer. Close enough to stroke its scales.

“You won't need to fear; I would never chain you. Where others would seek to force their will over you or even butcher you for the priceless treasures of your body… I could protect you. ” He promised with a sincere tone. “With your might, I could conquer the Realm, and dragons would once again reign over Westeros. Mayhaps your mother would see to reason then…”

Aegon had no way of being certain that his words meant anything to the dragon, yet he chose to speak just in case. He recalled sources stating that dragons were quite intelligent, more than most would give them credit for.

The dragon seemed to bend to his will ever so slightly.

For a moment, Aegon believed that he had claimed it, but…

Unsullied gathered in the street from the sides, and Aegon stepped behind his men. Seeing this, the dragon turned away and took to the skies. He felt that he had been so very close… only to be halted at the most crucial moment.

He cursed in his heart.

“What shall we do now, my prince?”

“Hold the entrance a while longer,” Aegon commanded, glancing back. “Just long enough for our benefactor to escape."

"No," Jon Connington joined him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We can't risk our men for him. He is as untrustworthy as they come - his true intentions are only known to himself and likely not in our favour."

"He risked his own life, performing a miracle at no price other than our support in his escape."

"No price... that's what he wants you to believe." Jon Connington raised a slight eyebrow. "There is always a price when it comes to him. It's best he does not leave that Great Pyramid."

"... Is that so?" Aegon frowned slightly.

"He is a man of great ability, I know... someone you would consider one of a kind. It might seem like a waste, but you would be far too naive to believe he would be grateful to anyone. Dorian serves no one but himself in the end. In his eyes, we are just a tool for the end he seeks."

"And that is...?"

"Something no one can truly know. He hides it well, in a maze of lies and truths."

"..." Aegon sighed. "Very well."

Jon Connington proceeded to give his orders, leading a retreat back to the ships. If they lurked a while longer, the Unsullied would trap them within the confines of Meereen and overwhelm the Golden Company with their greater numbers.

If they had arrived with the entire Golden Company, it would be a different story...

Jon Connington had been right, Aegon decided. One man wasn't worth risking thousands of men for - especially one whose loyalties were so uncertain.

[Daenerys’ POV]

She stood at the Great Pyramid's entrance, seeing her two dragons in the distant skies. The corpses of Unsullied surrounded her, some killed and most burned. There was more below, littering the streets… and far less of the Golden Company. 

Her heart was heavy with sorrow, yet it was overshadowed by an unyielding rage.

“Don't let a single one of them leave Meereen.” She looked at Ser Barristan and Skahaz Mo Kandaq, who commanded the Brazen Beasts. “Not a single one…”

“Yes, Khaleesi.”

Ser Barristan nodded and left quick as a flash. Before she knew it, he rode out of the stables with a noble steed and Valyrian Steel in hand. Under her orders, nearly all of the Unsullied and Brazen Beasts in the city rallied together, intending to slaughter those who would act against their queen.

Barristan’s charge led to a dozen of their deaths before his horse was shot down. Even after that, he killed over ten… yet he was only one man.

The Golden Company was prepared. They had planned to leave at a moment's notice and began to sail away in their ships once they forced their way through the guards at the port. Not all of them had made it, some being caught by the horde of men at their backs.

Whatever loses they had, however, were far lesser than her own.

First light came, and Daenerys still stood at the same place, unwilling to move.

“What mother of dragons am I when my children have all left me?”

“They will return someday,” Barristan had tried to give confidence. “You led to their birth and raised them. Even dragons wouldn't forget that bond."

"..."

As she watched silently, he continued;

“All aspiring birds will leave their mother’s nest. It's inevitable.”

“They're dragons…” Daenerys looked at the skies, seeking a glimpse, yet she no longer saw either of them. “There's no telling of the ruin they're capable of imposing upon others without me to restrain them. That burnt child… will just be one of many disasters that I've birthed.”

"Do not burden yourself with their misdoings," Barristan advised. "There's only so much you can do..."

"How can I not? I am the mother of dragons... mother of monsters. I brought them into this world. All that they do roots back to me. I am the blood of the dragon, and yet... I feel so powerless."

She frowned, shaking her head in contempt at herself.

"Did Aegon the Conqueror allow Balerion the Black Dread, the largest of the dragons, to roam free and burn children alive?"

She questioned, turning to him.

"..." Barristan was silent for a moment. "Likely not. In those days, dragon riding had been a tradition for them, passed down countless generations from Old Valyria. They must have had some methods that were lost to time..."

"He could reign in a dragon that could block out the sun... while I have no control over any of my children. What happened today was inevitable, one way or another, now or later. They would have stayed chained in the pits for only so long... and, once freed, seek to never return again."

"I must be more like those who came before me. Rather than keeping the dragons away from the world and weaken them, I should seek the control to harness their strength and make it my own. I've been so fixated on being a queen for Meereen and distracted by those duties that I've begun to forget the sole reason why I am here... I did not even have time for them."

"Dragons gave me the Unsullied; they made me Queen of Meereen. Without them, I'd be long dead or someone with nothing once more."

"I am the blood of the dragon... I have always been."

Daenerys reaffirmed, her violet eyes regaining their light.

"If I am to tame them, I must be a dragon myself."

Raiden's Storm Chapter 95: Soaring Dragons

[Edric’s POV]

As the weeks went by, the Nightfort rapidly began looking more and more like a fortress than a ruin of the past. My thirteenth nameday had also passed, marking the beginning of the end. There weren’t any further ‘canon’ events I could ‘foresee’. Another ill from Georgie not finishing his books…

Though, many things had deviated already. For instance, Tyrion hadn’t ever manipulated Young Griff into invading early… meaning that he likely went to Daenerys. There’s a chance she joins hands with him which would place me in an unfavorable spot.

The armies aren’t that big of a deal, but the dragons…

If they had any strategy between them, they could outmaneuver me with ease. While I might be able to defeat them in battle, I am one man and can only be at one place at a time… and no horse in the world is as swift as an adult dragon. In that scenario, they wouldn’t defeat me - but they’d defeat and conquer the Seven Kingdoms. Or most of it, at least.

Even if I won, I’d have only lost… the damage from such a war wouldn’t be trivial in the slightest.

…

“A strange yet fine sword.” Donal Noye observed the Nodachi I had forged. It was a strange hybrid of Japanese ideas and Westerosi forging. “It would be no good for penetrating armour, but it will surely cut all else with ease.”

“That is its intended purpose.” I nodded. “I don’t need a sword to penetrate armour as I will have a Warhammer that breaks through it better than any sword would ever be able to.”

“The blade is sharp and strong. You also work quite fast. The smith at Storm’s End taught you well. This sword… could almost be considered castle-forged in terms of quality. There are a number of imperfections that you could have ironed out.”

“Well, I was rushing a bit..."

"I've watched you long enough to know most of your strengths and weaknesses." Donal Noye nodded. "I doubt you will stay here for long enough to master smithing properly; so I will teach you how to improve your foundation and give you all the knowledge necessary to be as good as me... so long as you practice. I will show you how I made that Warhammer as well, so that you won't have to keep coming to me for a new one each time you break it."

I chuckled. "That would be convenient."

"As I only have one arm this time around, I will need a helping hand."

"I'm under your instruction." I nodded, eager to see how that kind of Warhammer could be forged.

...

After a day and most of the night helping at the forge, Donal Noye went off to retire for the day. Even though he's mighty strong for a one-armed man, he is not so young. I played around a bit after he left before going out to see what's been happening in the Nightfort.

What better place than the highest tower? I left the forge and got to climbing stairs.

The Night's Watch, having cleared all the unwanted trees, had been focused on the stonemason side of things. Almost all of the walls were rebuilt and reinforced. One rising matter of concern had been the greater number of mouths to feed for the Night's Watch. The number wasn't even a third before, and in the last couple hundred years, the Gift's villages and holdfasts were abandoned due to frequent raids from wildlings.

The wildlings who had gone south with the Northern lords would help with this, but... I believe the Night's Watch should be able to sustain itself through the Gift - as it did in the past. Unfortunately, nature had reclaimed most of the land. It had been neglected in recent history and would need plenty of work to get it under order.

It was a matter more important than restoring further castles...

If the men couldn't feed themselves, what would be the point? Perhaps it was the first thing I should've focused on.

While I was in my thoughts, I observed the happenings of the Nightfort from above. With my enhanced eyesight, I could see everything clearly within view - almost like a falcon. Not quite as good, but more than good enough.

I saw Jaime Lannister putting in work alongside the other black brothers, helping seal any cracks in the walls. As I turned to one of the yards, in the corner of my eye, I saw Arya sparring with Val. I raised a curious eyebrow.

What's that girl doing?

She was losing rather easily, but learning. As they continued, I saw that Val had been quite fond of the little wolf. And, as Val was a fighter in her own right, Arya naturally looked up to her. I didn't pay much attention to it before, but they are eerily similar. Val is fierce, wild, brave and capable. She is quite graceful and beautiful as well, which Arya tends to be insecure about... it is a small wonder she would look up to the wildling.

As I kept looking down, Arya's eyes shifted to me, and I turned away, acting like I hadn't been nosey all along.

If only she knew about that incident... their bond wouldn't be as good, I'd imagine. Ignorance is bliss - after all.

I didn't notice anything else worth looking into, so I walked off into the yard for a bit of late-night practice. Ser Loras and the Hound were getting into it, with neither looking like they had any desire to concede. I gestured for them to cease and then called over Jaime Lannister.

"What is this about... Your Grace?" He raised an eyebrow, the right way of addressing me still being foreign to him.

"Well, you were so very confident in yourself earlier. If I recall correctly, you said you'd best all of my Kingsguard... all at once?" I grinned slightly, stroking my chin. "What do you say about having a fun little wager regarding this, Ser?"

"What game are you playing?"

"Unfortunately, there are only three present... but it will do. I shall also be fair; you will fight them one at a time. If you win and best all three in a row, I'll restore you as a Kingsguard. If you lose, well... you're not as good as you think you are. Or, mayhaps, you underestimated my Kingsguard."

"I see." Jaime Lannister chuckled. "You have a King's pride now. However, I am far from my best. You would know that I've been working from the morrow."

"Your diligence is quite outstanding indeed, Ser," I added with a bit of sarcasm. "However, everyone has been working quite hard these days. I'd say it is very much equal. Besides, if you were soooo much better, it wouldn't matter... believe me, it wouldn't be any easier with Ser Arthur added to the mix. If anything, I'm making this easier for you."

Most of the people who heard of the conversation had turned their attention to the yard, almost like a crowd of students when a fight was about to break out.

"And what do you have to gain from this - amusement, or is it being right?"

"Both." I smiled. "I do love proving people wrong."

"This will be easy." Jaime's expression changed to one of supreme confidence, or perhaps, arrogance. His composure reflected a person who thought they couldn't be beaten. Calmly, he drew his sword from its sheath and turned to me. "What are the rules?"

"Let's not wound each other too much. You claim to be the greatest swordsman so there'll be no armour - first to draw blood from the other wins. Naturally, only swords may be used."

"I see."

Jaime, wearing no armour already, turned to the Kingsguard who began removing their armour.

"Which of you shall be first?"

"Loras, why don't you go?" I smiled, curious as to who would triumph over the other.

"As you wish, Your Grace."

Loras, after removing his armour, dutifully stepped forward, drew his sword and measured up the Kingslayer.

~

[Daenery's POV]

Daenerys observed in silence, contemplating the offer. He made it sound like he was her best chance at overcoming Edric Storm… yet that was hardly what she saw. If her dragons, once they were grown, couldn't best him, what difference would Aegon and the Golden Company make? She had the dragons, yet he would be named King which was a position that held all the power.

To rule as equals… well, there was a reason why the Seven Kingdoms never had a queen rule with complete power. Daenerys knew enough history to know that she would be undermined.

To add to that, he had called her current duty as a hopeless endeavour…

“Certainly defeat him? What do you know of victory, boy?” Ser Barristan had interrupted her thoughts. “His Grace has fought more battles in a year than you will ever see in your lifetime. He brought down Tywin Lannister during a siege in a single day, singlehandedly, and without the loss of a single man. He put out another Greyjoy Rebellion before Balon even had the time to raise his banners - despite invading with an initially sparse fleet. He took their ships for his own and turned their greatest advantage against them.”

“Ser Barristan..." Jon Connington turned to the knight, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I was delivered to aid the princess by His Grace."

"...?" This perplexed the man. "Where do your loyalties truly lay? Are you but a dog for whoever sits on the Iron Throne? You served the prince's mortal enemy, the very man who slew him in battle and brought down the dynasty you had served all your life. Prince Rhaegar would have wished for this alliance... yet, even now, you still stand with the Baratheons while protecting an opposing claimant."

"I made an oath," Barristan replied sharply. "And I will uphold it."

"How can a knight be so loyal...yet disloyal?" Jon questioned.

"This alliance will bring no good to anyone." Barristan shook his head. "What you intend to do is charge into the gates of death and drag down the princess with you."

"Death? What can a single boy do against three dragons?"

"By the time those dragons have matured, His Grace would have as well," Barristan remarked. "I fear the latter would be far more formidable than you could ever imagine."

"And what man is equal to a dragon?" Jon scoffed.

"What man arms himself with the sky?" Barristan countered.

"..."

"You've not seen what I have-"

"... I don't understand." Aegon interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "Why is it that the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard is here - at the other side of the world? You said you are here of your false king's commands... yet I question why would he go so far for a likely enemy?"

"In this case, I believe he sought to prevent war. His Grace does not have the same hatred for the Targaryens as his father did."

"He fears what the dragons would be capable of," Aegon added, shaking his head as he turned to Daenerys. "Surely you wouldn't buy this farce? The Usurper slew your brother, father, forced you into exile and a life of poverty... why would you make peace with his bastard son? If you never came across that miracle and gained enough power to challenge him, would he bother speaking of peace - would he aid you in your struggles then?"

"No... you'd be dead or worse."

A moment of silence washed over the audience hall. Daenerys looked at her guests, and then at the guards and advisors. Before they would speak, she raised her hand. Her mind had been made a while back.

"I made a vow that I would rule over Meereen for as long as it takes to achieve long-standing change. If I walked away and left a third city in chaos - what queen would I be? All would return to how it was before, worse even..." Daenerys shook her head. "You brushed the matter aside, calling it a hopeless endeavour, yet you could not be more wrong. It only seems a hopeless endeavour - to you."

"You need my dragons more than I need the Golden Company."

"These aren't even your people-"

"And you spoke of my struggles." Daenerys interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "Where was this Golden Company when my brother begged for your support? Where was your aid? All I recall is laughter - laughter and not a single coin for support, not a copper. Shall I hold it against you, same as you ask of me for Edric Storm?"

That seemed to silence them. The Gold Company's officers looked at each other before one of them stepped forward.

"Princess-"

"Queen."

"... My Queen." The rather aged man hesitated for a moment. He did not look to be a warrior, though his uniform was the most lavish of them all - except for the prince himself. "We've come a long way to see you in person. Is there truly nothing we can offer that might change your mind?"

"..."

Daenerys thought about it for a moment. She considered asking for their support in Meereen's shadow war, and yet...

"Your ships would sink, your little army would drown, and I would shoot your dragons out of the bloody sky."

Edric's words echoed as she imagined his startling purple eyes once more, eyes that made Aegon's look so very dim and unthreatening. She could see his warhammer falling on the prince and crushing him beneath it in a field of green flame.

"No." Daenerys determined. "I will not wage war on Edric Storm with you."

"..." Aegon frowned, likely wishing to say something unpleasant. He seemed to keep it to himself, however.

"If you have nothing else to say, please excuse yourselves. I doubt the number of petitions is any smaller than before."

"We bid you farewell."

Aegon abruptly turned and stormed off with his cloak fluttering. The rest followed not soon after, and Daenerys continued with her day. Had it been the right decision? She would question herself all day.

When night came... so did the unexpected.

...

"A strange man with shark-like teeth asked me to deliver this message. He said something poetic... soaring dragons will reclaim the land, if I can recall."

One of the Golden Company's men handed a letter to the Captain-General Harry Strickland. The man raised an eyebrow, unsealing the letter and giving it a look. At the bottom left corner, he noticed a familiar insignia. His expression turned to a frown, and then a thoughtful look.

"That bastard... is here?" He muttered.

"What is that about?" Aegon questioned.

"... Nothing to worry about."

"I'd like to see it."

...

In the middle of the night, Daenerys was suddenly awoken by the sound of bells. This alarm didn't mean anything good, this much she knew. Had the Golden Company taken he rejection so sourly that they would attack her directly?

She got dressed and rushed outside.

Belwas stood outside of her door, armed and ready.

"What is happening?" She asked, breathing heavier from her heart racing.

"... Strong Belwas heard they stormed the lowest floor-"

"My children."

In the distance, she could hear their roars.

She clenched her fists as her heart raged with fury.

They had come for Rhaegal and Viserion.

Raiden's Storm Chapter 94: The Mummer's Dragon

[Edric's POV]

What I had learned over time was that my leadership perks not only translated in battle but also most things in general - like labour. If I was around and partaking in it, even more so. As such, I joined in with the group clearing out the unwanted weirwoods. 

I started with the tree poking into the kitchen, cutting the branch right off and then dealing with it from the other side. Then I joined the men in the yard and began chopping the small forest down. These trees had no faces, as seemingly no one had been there to carve them. Yet, they were strange all the same.

Chop.

Chop.

The world around me shifted, bit by bit, until I stood in a field of snow on the other side of the wall.

I love and hate these trees… what now, a vision of the past?

Before me, I saw a majestic figure of ice in the shape of a woman. Long was her hair, silver in the moonlight. It was an eerily beautiful thing… an Other, undoubtedly, as she possessed blueish white skin and eyes like blue stars.

Personally, not my type, but…

I looked further on, to Wall and saw another figure, clad in black. Though distant and high up, my eyes could see him well enough. It was only a moment before I understood what this was.

Yeah. That's his type.

Before long, he mounted a horse and rode out from the gate to chase the Other. I remained still, turning to the weirwood forest behind me where the chase had continued. Even though I hadn't moved, my body shifted to the next tree… and the next until the man had finally chased her down. 

This won't end well, I reckon. 

I watched him catch her and, despite very likely having enough strength to break him, she didn't seem to put up much of a fight. They coiled in the snow and got… active. I glanced back at the frowning tree, raising an eyebrow.

Do I have to see this part?

The tree cried red tears, though truly it was just overbuilt sap leaving its carved eyes. It gave the vibe that it was telling me, 'I had to sit through this, so you have to as well'. Reluctantly, and most awkwardly, I watched the Night's King give the 'corpse queen' a tumbling.

Halfway through, I wondered if his pecker would freeze off and snap... it didn't, to my disappointment. That would've at least made me laugh. Instead, he gave her his seed, and the light from his eyes seemed to fade, almost as if his soul had been ripped away.

The scene shifted as he returned to the Nightfort beside his new woman. It was quite the formidable castle, sprawling with black brothers and well fortified. A proper stronghold that didn't allow easy access from the south - unlike the other castles along the Wall I had observed. There were more men in there than in the entire Night's Watch of today.

He declared her a queen first, before naming himself her king. While some rallied under this declaration, others looked more uncertain. The next I saw of him, the entire Night's Watch had bent to his will. His body had changed as a layer of ice covered half of his face. One of his eyes shifted from grey to piercing blue - slowly resembling an Other day by day.

The once vigorous Lord Commander was more lethargic, lifeless and ruthless. His disregard for the men he once called brothers was clear enough to see, as he would often sacrifice them to fuel some sort of ritual.

Though, originally, he gave the impression that the corpse queen controlled him... that seemed to change as well. As his body changed, so too did his will. With each year, he resembled the Night's King more than the last.

War would come to him, from north and south...

And that's where it ended.

I stood in the same place as I was before, observing the fallen weirwoods.

That... certainly quenched some of my curiosity, though it only left more answers. Had the Night's King truly fallen - or did he escape this predicament? He had slowly begun to resemble an Other... was he, in fact, the Night King or were the names merely coincidence? The truth was unclear.

Getting cliffhung by a tree...

I chuckled, continuing on with clearing out the yard. Though, my opinions of the weirwood trees had changed. If I could properly wield my greenseer abilities rather than stumble my way, they would allow me to be almost all-knowing. Whatever the trees see, I would as well. As such, I made sure to gather all the seeds and store them away. Also, I kept a tree in the main yard.

...

One of these days, I poked around and saw that Donal Noye had gotten the forge up and running. It had gone from a decrepit workspace from another age to a proper castle's forge rather swiftly. I watched the smith at work, being able to perform his duties with only a single arm - only being helped by another sworn brother every once in a while. He took pride in his work; that was clear to see. Nothing he made was subpar or half-assed.

It reminded me of the smith in Storm's End who taught me.

"You look more like your father in his youth with each passing day, Your Grace." He suddenly spoke, glancing at me.

"I've been getting that remark quite a bit." I chuckled.

"Have you need of me?"

"In part, yes." I nodded. "In my battle with the Others, I had broken my Warhammer - the same Warhammer my father had used to crush Rhaegar Targaryen at the Trident. It is a weapon I've grown quite fond of. Since you were the man who forged it, I wonder if you could make another... or, better yet, teach me how to."

"Teach you, Your Grace? It is not something you can choose to learn on a whim. Such a trade takes years to properly grasp, even for the quickest learners. I believe your precious time would be better spent. As for forging another Warhammer of the same quality... it might prove difficult with only one arm, but it is within my ability."

"With all due respect, it is not up to you whether or not I am capable of learning. I simply ask you to teach. Besides, I am not green when it comes to blacksmithing." I countered, shaking my head. "I've practised for over a year and frequently observed the trade whenever I had the free time. I dare say that I am more effective and well-versed than most apprentices who have practised for two or even three years."

"... Is that so?" Donal Noye looked surprised, yet he didn't seem to doubt my statements. "Even so, what do you seek from this trade? It most certainly cannot be gold."

"At first, it was a past-time... a trade I was fond of. Now, it means far more than that. If I do not master this craft, I fear I might not be properly equipped to face whatever terrors may arise in the coming years." I looked at him with a serious expression. "To cut it plainly, my success in this regard might just make the difference between whether or not we see another spring."

“... How so?”

“Part of it is prophecy, the other speculation. I believe that my magic might aid in forging a weapon capable of withstanding my full might. If I cannot fight at my best, well..."

“I'm not one for prophecies, Your Grace. I believe every man has a choice in the lives they lead.”

“I’d like to believe that as well.” I half-smiled. “Though I will not master smithing in one go, I at least seek to gain as much knowledge from you as I can so that I might put it into practice when I am able.”

“If you're so adamant about it, I am hard pressed to reject, Your Grace.” He nodded. “First, I need to know where you stand. Forge me a tool or weapon of your choice. I will grade your efficiency, speed and quality.”

“I might be a little rusty…” I admitted, recalling the last time I cooked anything up in a forge. It was right before my life went upside down.

“You're not old enough to be rusty at anything.” Donal Noye remarked with a humoured tone.

“Fair, fair.” I laughed. “You're right.”

I got straight to work.

~

[Daenerys’ POV]

The Sons of the Harpy remained adamant in their fight, killing Unsullied, freedmen and ‘shavepates’ who supported her rule each and every day. Their war from the shadows was not something she was accustomed to, nor knew how to combat. The Unsullied were trained for direct battle, no less. They were just as inexperienced in this field.

She had made a new city watch named the Brazen Beasts, formed out of native Meereenese freedmen and shavepates, to combat the Sons of the Harpy and keep the peace. Under the suggestion of one of her advisors, she also demanded hostages from the noble families of Meereen to dissuade further murders. Alas, when it came to executing them once the killings continued... she could not, having grown fond of the hostages.

Hizdahr Zo Loraq had promised to bring ninety days of peace with no killings in order to win her consideration in marriage. Though she had no desire for him, she did want peace for Meereen. The moons would go by... with no killings to speak of.

The peace was a breath of fresh air, though her advisors found it suspicious that Hizdahr Zo Loraq could ensure that no Harpy killings would occur during this period. This was no certainty, however... and she was desperate enough for peace to consider him.

There was also the Siege of Astapor, initiated by a Yunkish army which had rebelled against her. They would sack the city, and a bloody flux would break out, killing three men in every four. In turn, the Yunkai'i seal the gates to keep the dead and dying within the city walls.

So far, her actions had brought mostly death, destruction and chaos upon Slaver's Bay... despite her good intentions.

When the 90th day of peace in Meereen came, Daenerys observed a giant fleet that smothered the ports from her Great Pyramid.

"Khaleesi, it is the Golden Company." Ser Barristan had informed her. "Their leadership seeks an audience... along with a man they claim to be Prince Aegon of House Targaryen, your nephew."

"Aegon...?" Daenerys looked at Barristan with bewilderment. As far as she was concerned, Aegon had died in the sack of King's Landing - brutalised by Tywin Lannister's dogs. "That can't be true."

"It is what they say." Barristan didn't look too convinced, either. "I find it strange as well, for the Golden Company has famously served only Blackfyre rebel Kings. They were formed for that very purpose... yet, even if they changed their stance in this regard, I cannot believe that Aegon had survived the Sacking of King's Landing. As much as I would wish it to be true... it is likely a farce."

"... What would you advise me to do?" Daenerys questioned, feeling conflicted. She wanted it to be the truth... yet it seemed too good to be so.

She recalled the day her brother once feasted the Golden Company's captains in hopes of winning their support. They heard his pleas, ate his food and laughed at him. She was little then... but the memory was not something she had forgotten.

"From what I hear, they have come a long way. The Golden Company is not a force you wish to have against you, least of all now. I would advise treating them with courtesy."

"I will hear them out."

Daenerys decided.

...

'Aegon Targaryen' led the group of officers, dressed in black regal attire with the sigil of his supposed house. His hair was silver-blonde, and he possessed dark violet eyes, that looked almost blue. His height and build were greater than the average man, though a farcry from Edric Storm. He had handsome features as well... and an air of confidence.

Daenerys couldn't deny that he, at the very least, looked the part of a Targaryen prince.

"You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Shackles and the Mother of Dragons."

Missandei proclaimed, while Daenerys remained seated on her throne.

"It is a pleasure to meet face to face at last." Aegon smiled courteously, stepping forward. "I take it you've heard of me recently?"

"That, I have. You claim to be Prince Aegon, my nephew," Daenerys remarked.

"It is not a claim." An older man beside him countered. "It is the truth."

"And you are?" Daenerys raised an eyebrow.

"Jon Connington, princess. I squired alongside and for your brother, Prince Rhaegar. I was one of his dear friends, even serving as your father's Hand once. I would not make a lie of this matter... for Prince Rhaegar was a man I most admired and loved."

"... I see." Daenerys could see that he was genuine, yet it could be very well be true that he was lied to. "I doubt you've travelled so far with such a force to merely exchange pleasantries. Why are you here, truly, Prince Aegon?"

"I propose an alliance." Aegon went straight to the point, looking right up to her. "Let us marry and unite our forces. Your dragons, the Unsullied and the Golden Company. We have ten thousand men who are disciplined like no other, two dozen elephants trained for war and five hundred knights. The Golden Company's treasury can afford a fleet large enough to sail to the Seven Kingdoms. To our home."

"Once we land, Houses will flock to our cause and rebel against the Usurper's bastard for their rightful king and queen. In time, we will certainly defeat him and reclaim the Iron Throne."

He offered his hand, speaking of victory as if it was certain.

"What say you, aunt? You could abandon this hopeless endeavour for a far greater prize..."

Author's Note:

Took a little break, procrastinated way too much and went through a bit of imposter syndrome... but I should be able to lock in now. This next arc will be kicking things up a notch. Speaking of, Dragonsguard+ will have something to vote on regarding Dany's decision. I could see it going either way.

Raiden's Storm Chapter 93: Reflection

[Edric’s POV]

With things settled down, I got a proper headcount of the number of ex wildlings under my banner. Less than five thousand were battle ready warriors, with the rest being children, youths, women and elders. In total, there were a little over forty thousand. I decided that the best course of action would be to split them up. Having them separated makes a potential uprising all the more harmless.

A decent chunk of families would disperse to join the northern lords returning home. As for the leaders of warbands, most of them were convinced to join the Night’s Watch alongside their men. The rest would be split down along the Realm or serve directly under me. I decided to entrust Robb Stark and Tyrion Lannister with making sure the former plan doesn’t go awry.

…

“Sending me away already?” Robb made a slight smile.

He would be the last of the lords to leave, standing outside of Castle Black with all of his men. 

“You and Tyrion are the only ones I can entrust this duty to. As lords paramount, you have the authority to execute my plan effectively. I would do it personally, but, alas… my place is here for now.” I smiled, shrugging my shoulders. “It’s a shame I can only be at one place at time.”

“The Gods had to make it fair to everyone else.” Robb chuckled. “Do not fret, Your Grace. I will act out your will as best as I am able.”

“Good man.” I nodded, embracing him. “This will be farewell for some time, brother.”

“Don’t do anything too reckless.” Robb patted my back before withdrawing. “... Like venturing north of the wall on your own.”

“I’d never do something like that.” I smiled reassuringly, yet my words came out rather sarcastic.

“I’d prefer if my sister wasn’t marrying a corpse… or King stitchface. In the end, if you decide to do something rash, no one can stop you.”

Robb helplessly sighed.

“Harsh.” I laughed, touching the wound on my cheek. “This will be the last wound the Others get on my handsome face. I have too many things worth fighting for to die a needless death.”

That seemed to reassure him as he made a slight smile.

 “Thank you for coming all this way and going so far for the North and Night’s Watch, Your Grace. No other King would’ve bothered.”

“Mayhaps my father would’ve.” I mused. “He loved few things more than fighting… if anything, for that matter.”

“I doubt he would’ve considered the wildlings worthy of the long journey north.”

“Suppose we’ll never know," Jon remarked, joining in. "You didn't plan on leaving without saying your farewells, did you?"

"You were taking quite a while." Robb smiled.

"I was preoccupied with my duties."

"And... not something else?" Robb questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I am Lord Commander of the Night's Watch before anything else, Lord Stark," Jon replied solemnly.

"Hm... I see." Robb nodded, patting his shoulder. "You will serve them well, brother. Better than they know."

Not wanting to get in the moment, I turned to Arya. "If you want, you could go to Winterfell."

"And why would I do that?"

"Castle Black is hardly a place fitting for a lady." I shrugged. "Truthfully, I'll be wholly focused on my goals, which means I won't have much time for you. Jon will be too..."

"I'll find something to do." She smiled, her eyes shining with adventurous spirit. "Besides, it's the North. Every place here is fitting for me."

"... A Stark, indeed." I chuckled. "So be it."

"Winter's Queen," Jon added, smiling. "The less fitting the place is for a lady, the more fitting it is for Arya."

Eventually, Robb Stark would indeed depart, and my plans for the Night's Watch would properly kickstart.

...

My curiosity would take me underground to the vaults where the food stores and library were located. The library was surprisingly vast, the echoes of a once great Night's Watch. During Aegon's Conquest, they had numbered ten thousand... and many more before even then. With a simple glance, one could see how ancient some of these records truly were.

I took anything that was of great interest to me, including the history of the Night's Watch, myths, the language of the children of the forest, books about architecture and scrolls from Valyria. While I was scavaging, I suddenly heard a low descent of steps and chains clanking against each other. I paused when the steps neared.

The door would slowly open as Aemon stepped in, walking stick in hand.

"Greetings, Maester Aemon."

"I had not expected to see you here, Your Grace."

I walked closer and helped him make his way to a seat. He looked bald, wrinkled and shrunken - ancient. Watching his frailty made me quite... sombre. Once, he was youthful and full of life, like any other person. Yet now, he looked only a step away from death.

"Books are my guilty pleasure." I smiled, looking over at my collection.

"And why guilty?"

"While sometimes I read for knowledge, other times... it is a form of escape. I've read countless tales of legendary figures, heroes, kings, warriors. Some lived, some were exaggerated, and others were no more than another's story given form in words. In a way, I've lived a hundred lives... yet won no glory in them - taking joy in another's victories, critiquing their flaws and watching safely from afar. Only time passed, in the end, and I remained largely unchanged."

He had listened patiently, breaking the silence with a soft voice. "Yet, you took inspiration from these stories, did you not?"

"... Yes," I admitted. "When I was given the name Baratheon, I had to apply quite a lot of theory into practice. I always knew what to do, yet I lacked the courage and will to act it out. Soon enough... I was backed into a corner and had no choice."

"Only under the depths of desperation does a person's true self emerge." Aemon remarked.

"That is not entirely true, Maester. To survive - I had to be someone I wasn't. As I kept treading that path, the act became less so... before I entirely became that person. The more powerful I become, the more fragile and insignificant other men seem by comparison. All the while, Winter lurks, and with it come mightier foes."

"In the pursuit of absolute victory, I fear I may forget myself and make decisions I would not have before."

There was a strange solace in speaking my thoughts to him. He was courteous and patient, especially for a man with so little time left. Perhaps, given his age, I had hoped that he would have the answer.

"The world is a cruel place." Aemon broke the silence. "With Winter upon us, the Realm needs not an indecisive boy, but a King capable of making difficult decisions... decisions that no other can make. The path to victory will be paved by sacrifice, your own and that of others."

"Your great power is both a gift and a curse to you. Your awareness is the same. It guides you from overstepping your bounds, yet it might just be the very thing that hinders you from your duties. Balance, Your Grace. Somewhere between those two sides, you will find it."

"... Balance," I remarked, shaking my head. "It's not a thing I find often."

"Such is your blood," Aemon remarked. "Your father was a man of great extremes in whatever he did, from sleeping to drinking to fighting. In your own ways, you share in his passion and wild spirit. It is how you inspire loyalty in those around you... with might, courage, will and ambition that eclipses their own."

"You have the makings of a king who may be the greatest of any who ever lived... yet the burden that comes with it will be no lesser. I can only hope that you find the strength to persevere through the darkness and make the right choice, for I will not live to see that fateful day."

It seemed like he knew even more than I thought.

"... I wish we could have you for a couple more years," I said, frowning slightly.

"Death... is not the terror you think it is." Aemon made a slight smile. "I long to be freed of this frail body, to open my eyes and see the sun again. To read all the books I could not. I spend many nights with ghosts of fifty years past as it is. It would be liberating to meet with them after all this time."

"Yet you remain steadfast in your duty, despite every waking day being full of ills," I replied, feeling moved by his speech.

"I have planted and tended to seeds that I will never see blossom..." He paused, taking a deep breath. "If those seeds blossom into the men who triumphantly guard the realms of men against the darkness, then all the ills would have been worthwhile... and I would have fulfilled my duty."

"You already have," I spoke solemly, gently holding his hand. "Your words will not be in vain, maester Aemon."

"If only I could see your eyes, Your Grace. I imagine them to be... bright."

"They are brimming with determination," I spoke reassuringly.

"Good... good. Alas... I've grown... weary. The journey to my chamber is a rather long one..."

"Rest." I came to his side. "Rest easy and well, maester. I will aid you on the morrow."

Before long, he fell into a deep slumber. I double-checked if he had kicked the bucket and found that he, fortunately, had not. I sat in silence for a bit, observing his frail physique with pity... and a sense of admiration. Though his body was weak, his will was strong, and his wits sharp.

"Did you know that he could've been King once?" I glanced at Raiden. "A King's son, a King's older brother, a King's uncle... a great man who rotted away in the North for most of his life. He sacrificed so much for his duty, having rejected the crown and later on helplessly watched from afar as his family fell from grace and into exile."

"I don't know if I should admire his honour and long-standing duty or pity the tragedy that is his life. What joys did he have here, freezing away for all those years? His duty had drained his entire life, leaving nothing behind."

"You were once treading on the same path... perhaps you still are," Raiden remarked.

"Mine is not near as grim." I shook my head. "If I win, I will have endless glory. A name that lives on. What songs will be sung of him? Besides... I have more freedom than he ever did. If I choose to go on vacation tomorrow to, say, Braavos, who's going to stop me?"

"Only yourself," Raiden replied.

"Heh." I chuckled. "Yes, only me."

"If no songs will be sung of him, and you find that wrong, then you have the power to change that." She added.

"No song could compare to all those years he missed with his family." I sighed. "Alas... that's not something I can give him."

'The last dragon hadn't fallen in the Trident. There was always another, forgotten under the snow.'

I thought to myself, turning to all of the books.

He was a reminder that duty, while ever important, was something that I shouldn't allow to consume me completely. If it did... I'd end up quite like Aemon—a joyless old man dreaming of the past, of things that could've happened differently.

~

Days swept by as I planned the restoration of the Night's Watch. Before the abandoned castles could be repaired, it was clear that the builders needed far more manpower. To bolster their ranks, the rest of the Night's Watch was placed under their wing. Each builder would have a group of black brothers under them to learn their craft.

The first two castles to be prioritised were the Nightfort and Sable Hall, west and east of Castle Black respectively. They weren't the closest ruined castles, being further along the Wall, yet not too far from the centre either. The idea was to have a more balanced garrison across the Wall initially and eventually expand out to the rest of the ruins.

Though the wildlings were rather clueless initially, and tended to get frustrated in their own lack of proficiency, they began learning their crafts. Woodsman duties came to them rather naturally as they had little trouble cutting down trees. The rest, such as mining, carpentry, and

masonry, were learned over time.

...

I rode into the Nightfort, the largest and oldest of the Wall's castles, seeing it in person for the first time. If memory served right - this had once been the home of the Night's King - who had his name wiped from every record I could find in Castle Black. Though it wasn't likely that he was the Night King, his story that grabbed my interest... alas, this curiosity would not be quenched. There was also the story of the Rat Cook... for that matter, quite a number of old Northern stories revolved around the Nightfort.

A coincidence? Probably not.

The place seemed... haunted. A darkness loomed over the castle. Though I could not see it, I felt it. The deeper in I went, the stronger it became.

Half of the builders and a thousand ex-wildlings would soon walk over, inspecting the ruined castle. Its towers were broken, the library was entirely empty, the dungeon was full of rust, and winter plants sprouted from the bathouse. The forge looked like it hadn't been touched in a millenia, a relic lost to time.

The yards had turned into small forests due to a lack of maintenance, trees were growing in the stables, and there was even a twisted weirwood tree that grew out of a hole in the kitchen's wall.

When I made my way into the great hall, I was bewildered to find only one wall standing. Upon my appearance, a swathe of rats scattered into the darkness. I reached my left hand out and shot out a chain of lightning.

I watched all the rats light up across the ruined hall, collapsing to the ground. Some further out still shook a little. Those closer to me were all but scorched.

I glanced back, observing some of the men behind me. A good portion of them looked spooked. I smiled.

"Who's feeling hungry?"

The jest certainly lightened the mood. Tormund laughed, stepping forward.

"I am!"

"..." I blinked bewilderly as Tormund walked over and grabbed one of the cooked rats.

When he picked it up and turned back to see my expression, he broke into laughter.

"Who do you think I am, an animal? You lot think too little of us freefolk."

"You never know." I shrugged, chuckling.

"What fed all these rats? The castle was abandoned well over a hundred years ago." Loras questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"The Rat Cook." I jested, making ghost sounds after. "Wooooo"

"That is no more than a tale, Your Grace."

"Every tale has a bit of truth to it." I shrugged. "Anyway, the castle won't repair itself. Time to get to work!"

Raiden's Storm Chapter 92: 998th Lord Commander

[3rd]

“A private audience with the King? For him to take some time out of his day to grace me with his presence…” Jaime Lannister sarcastically remarked, sitting down. “Why, I’m honoured.”

“Be sure to cherish this time, Ser.” He replied with a similar tone. “You can likely guess why I called you here.”

“To support Janos Slynt?” Jaime raised a doubtful eyebrow.

“He has a big mouth, that one.” Edric chuckled, shaking his head.

“...” Jaime observed Edric’s amused expression, realising that it's a front. “Why would you feint support for Janos?”

“You will see, Ser… it's all part of a little scheme. I need you to play your part, however. I know for a fact that you have no desire for Lord Commander, so why don't you do both of us a favour and withdraw from the choosing.”

“And what makes you so certain?”

“You're a brilliant warrior, no one can doubt that, but you've never had a taste for responsibility and politics, which I understand more than you know. You're better off using your Lannister goons to vote for a more fitting alternative.”

“Is it your fellow bastard?”

“Quite right. I've heard you have your disagreements with Bowen Marsh, and the other commanding officers aren't all that fond of you. Jon Snow would favour you the most out of all of them.”

“How thoughtful of you,” Jaime remarked. “Yet you'd give lead to a boy not all that much older than you.”

“What of it, Ser? The Realm seems to be doing just fine under me.”

“Courtesy of the Small Council. He does not have that luxury.”

“The Night’s Watch has some good officers to advise him. He has a good head with the right intentions on his shoulders and is nearly a man-grown.” Edric shrugged. “Anyway, will you vote for him or keep fighting this losing battle?”

“Does our agreement still hold?”

“I did swear.” Edric solemnly nodded. “And I intend to keep my word.”

“Though, I'm not so sure how much of an honour it is these days. You lost two Kingsguard in a single skirmish, three of them are youths who were half chosen due to bias from your time in Storm’s End and one among them is a woman - the first of her kind. Where even is Ser Barristan?” Jaime questioned, shaking his head. “You sent him away… I'd wager I could best all four of them at once. Mayhaps all five.”

“Don't get too arrogant, now. Ser Arthur alone would leave you in the dust.”

“Who?” Jaime raised an eyebrow.

“You know who.”

“No one of note. It's a shame he isn't here to test your words.”

“A shame, indeed. It would've been a humbling experience.”

“So you say.” Jaime didn't look convinced. 

“The future belongs to the youth,” Edric shrugged. “In time, my Kingsguard will not be any less worthy than the Kingsguard you joined initially.”

“Oh, I doubt that. We were the greatest of all that came before.”

“But not the greatest to come. You could be part of that, Ser.”

“Hm.” Jaime made a slight smile, standing up. “You don’t need to soothe my ears with your honeyed words, Edric Storm.”

“Indeed… we've stayed from the topic at hand. Will you or won't you pledge your support in Jon Snow?”

“I have a question for you as well.”

Shing.

He did not expect him to draw his sword, yet remained unphased as cold steel was pointed at him. Edric tilted his head the other way, amused.

“Now this is rash, even for you.”

“Ever since I was escorted to the North, I’ve been thinking about a great many things concerning you, Edric. I never expected you to come so far North… let alone approach me unarmed. You are too trusting, still.”

“Point that sword any closer, and you'll know why I’m not bothered.”

Edric grinned slightly, his eyes flickering a deep violet. His confidence gave Jaime a sense of unease.

“What part did you play in King's Landing after I left?”

“Once I woke from my long rest, I joined my father’s hunt, killed a good number of the traitors when the city was in an uproar and called for Stannis to blockade the sea beforehand. Coincidentally, my uncle would capture Cersei Lannister and her children.”

“So you chose to speak the truth,” Jaime remarked. “It was your word that led to my sister’s capture.. and death.”

“Categorically… yes. My father struck the final blow, one that I would not have. What of it?”  Edric questioned, staring into his green eyes. “She tried to orchestrate my father’s death, she lied about her children and… she would have betrayed you as well.”

“What are you talking about?” Jaime raised an eyebrow, his grip loosening.

“You see, before I went to join the hunt, she wanted to convince me to the side of the Lannisters… offering all sorts of comforts. I feigned interest - but the door certainly was there. In your absence, who truly knows what she’d be up to? If I had walked down that path, perhaps she would have finally had one child who looked like Robert in some way…”

“...” Jaime’s mouth widened the more he looked into Edric’s eyes. He could not see a slither of a lie. Either he was the best liar he had ever met, or… it was the hard truth. “That can’t be.”

“But it is. I believe Cersei ever only loved herself - and those who reflected her. You were but a mirror all along.”

He withdrew in silence, sheathing his sword and turning away.

“That’s treason for… how many times have you committed it, already?” Edric mused, stroking his chin. “I’m the only reason you’re still breathing, and this is what I get as a gift. So much for ‘A Lannister always pays his debts’.”

Jaime paused, glancing back.

“Feel free to hang me if it suits you.”

“I did not choose to spare your life, against the opinion of near every lord under my banner, to throw your corpse into a pile of snow somewhere later on. You’re better than that - I know there is plenty more you have to achieve in your life. You can still leave a legacy worthy of your talents.”

Jaime paused.

“... Truthfully, I don’t know how that kind of betrayal must feel,” Edric admitted, shaking his head. “It must be devastating. Alas… knowing the truth is better than living a lie - wouldn’t you say? If you move on from the past, I will pretend that you never drew your sword against me.”

After a moment of silence, Jaime Lannister looked back with courtesy.

“Forgive me for my earlier… foolishness, Your Grace.”

“It never happened. You were practicing.” Edric shrugged. “Though, the white cloak is a bit further off than before.”

“... The bastard will have my support.”

Jaime decided, hastily leaving the room. His heart and mind were conflicted beyond words. He had sought answers, yet all they led to was pain. The cold, hard truth was not something he could have ever dared imagine.

~

[Edric’s POV, 1st]

The voting had been going back and forth, and the threat that I would pick my own Lord Commander was hastening the alliances. Janos Slynt openly boasted of how I supported him, yet I didn’t speak a word of the matter. Meanwhile, Ser Jaime not only had his Lannister henchmen support Jon, but also had them convince others to vote for him. The battle at the Bridge of Skulls seemed to have earned him a great deal of influence - despite his infamy. Rumours spread of why Janos Slynt was removed from office in King’s Landing and sent to the Wall in the first place… further decreasing his popularity.

Everything was proceeding according to plan.

“I hereby withdraw my name from the choosing and grant Jon Snow my vote.” Jaime Lannister declared, being one of the first relevant people to vote. “The Night’s Watch needs a more youthful Lord Commander to take the Night’s Watch forward rather than keep it in a state of stagnation. 

A surge of men would follow, giving Jon the lead. 

“What’s there to say that hasn’t been said? Janos Slynt served as the Lord Commander of the Gold Cloaks for years and is most definitely a more fitting leader than a boy.”

Bowen Marsh would place his vote for Janos Slynt, followed by Alliser Thorne and a few others - steadily matching Jon’s score. The ex-Lord Commander looked quite pleased, though his look would slowly fade. Denys Mallister and Cotter Pyke, the commanding officers of the garrisons at the Shadow Tower and Eastwatch respectively, would both vote for Jon Snow. A great majority of their men voted with them.

With this growing landslide and victory in sight, many black brothers who were on the fence shifted their votes to Jon Snow. Janos Slynt’s boasting, despite being a fresh member of the Night’s Watch, left a great distaste in their mouths. Jon was the compromise that most of the black brothers were willing to make… for it was undoubtedly a better choice than the corrupt and underhanded ex-gold cloak.

I calmly sipped some water, watching the votes pile on.

It was over a good bit before the last votes, which were just a formality at that point. They were all counted and recorded carefully, before Maester Aemon would speak;

“Jon Snow has both reached and greatly surpassed the two-third majority. He will take his place as 998th Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch and serve in his new duties until death.” 

A wave of cheers followed, with Jon’s friends being the loudest of all. 

“A brilliant choice, indeed.” I voiced my approval, grinning slightly at the befuddled Janos Slynt. “I couldn’t be more certain that he will serve you all well. With the voting settled, we can now move forward and restore the Night’s Watch’s glory. Today marks the dawn of a new era for the brothers in black!”

…

After some celebrating, I took a stroll on top of the Wall with Jon Snow. The lands beyond the wall loomed with mystery and a strange sense of temptation. Something was calling for me - or so it seemed. 

“It seems too good to be true,” Jon Snow remarked as we came to a stop.

“That you’re Lord Commander?”

“Yes. I had thought that not even you could make it happen.”

“Oh, but it wasn’t just me… I had my fair share of influence yes, but it was your great friend who played off me that changed the game entirely.”

“... My friend?” Jon raised an eyebrow.

“He was the one who convinced Denys Mallister and Cotter Pyke to compromise on you as the Lord Commander. I believe you might have an inkling of an idea.”

“I might.” He smiled at that. “Even so, admittedly… I have my doubts regarding this new station. I do not feel as if I am up to par. You are the worst person to tell this, but -”

“It’s fine.” I smiled, shaking my head. “Once Kingship was a daunting task for me as well. A mountain of burdens I didn’t dare even think of carrying… but here I am. My advice for you would be to kill your fear, Jon Snow. Embrace your new position. Arm yourself with the advice of others more experienced than you and use their knowledge to make your own judgements.”

“You are far too wise for your age.” Jon Snow remarked.

“... Life can be quite like forging a blade,” I replied, looking at the horizon. “Hardships may temper the blade, or break it altogether. The result depends on the metal of the person and by which it is tempered by. I believe you are made of steel not too different from my own.”

“You are too generous with your words, Your Grace. I am hardly comparable to you.”

“It is not far from the truth, however.” I shook my head. “Though, as you are Lord Commander, I am curious as to what you will do regarding Ygritte.”

“... What would you do?” He questioned, looking uncertain.

“I once chose a girl over duty without any hesitation. It all ended in tragedy, though it was unrelated to her. If this tragedy hadn’t occurred… I don’t know where I would be today. Likely, I would not have been King. Mayhaps the Realm would still be at war - all because of one girl. Seeing as you are the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, you are held to the highest standard. So, you cannot have one and the other. You must choose between love and duty - for now.”

“For now?” Jon questioned, tilting his head.

“Once the Others are wiped from the face of the world…” I looked at him, shrugging my shoulders. “There will not be a need for a Night’s Watch. You will have completed your oath and be free to do as you like.”

“I fear that day might never come.”

“I’ll make it so. They have no place here, and if they are allowed to retreat once more, then they will only return to haunt those who will come after us. Mere victory is not enough. They must all perish.”

“It will be a difficult task, mayhaps impossible… the lands in the far north are too cold.”

“And I am more determined than those lands are cold.” I smiled. “Believe me, I will put an end to them. As for the near future, I will aid you in your leadership and put the Night’s Watch in a good place. The Freefolk matter will be completely resolved by then. I will only make south once all is well, and I am certain that you will be able to take the reins from there. After that, the Night’s Watch will continue to receive supplies and resources to improve their defences.”

“I am honoured.” Jon Snow nodded. “I must admit, it is quite refreshing to have a King who takes the matters of the Night’s Watch with such severity. Your father wouldn’t have bothered to send anything, let alone personally arrive so far up North.”

“He was too busy shagging whores and drinking himself into an early grave,” I remarked. “Though, if you told him wildlings were invading… mayhaps he’d rouse himself for battle. There were few things he loved more than battle - if anything at all.”

“I doubt he would have cared much for a wildling invasion…”

“Mayhaps he would have, mayhaps he wouldn’t have. Regardless, there’s no need to be so formal with me.” I chuckled. “One day, we shall be brothers, after all.”

“Oh… of course.”

“Anyway, let’s get to work! There’s much to be done.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“...” I laughed about it, shaking my head. “Gods, if I hear ‘Your Grace’ one more time in the next five minutes, I’ll throw myself off this wall.”

“Forgive me… Edric.” 

“That’s better.”

Raiden's Storm Chapter 91: The Choosing

[Edric’s POV]

After the battle, a portion of the remaining wildlings had sought sanctuary. I decided to ride out and meet them. At their head was a man of average height with a broad chest and massive belly. His arms were quite bulky too, and they were accessorised by golden bands with what looked like runes.

He had the look of a man of importance.

“Thunder caller, let us fight for you!” 

His voice was louder than most.

“...” I could almost smile. “Do you not fear me killing you instead?”

“Aye.” The man laughed heartily. “I fear you like no other and I am a man who once feared nothing. Even so, it's you or them. We have a chance at living here, more than those shadows would ever give us. I'm a man who enjoys the joys o’ life such as ale, mead and women… and I'd like to keep living. What say you?”

“What is your name, wildling?”

“Tormund Giantsbane.”

‘Shorter than I imagined.’ I thought to myself.

“And I am King Edric ‘Storm’ of the House Baratheon.” 

“The King south of the Wall?” Tormund questioned. “You could get us past all those crows.”

“Not without you all kneeling and swearing fealty to me.”

My tone was harsh and cold, leaving no room for debate on that front. Tormund acknowledged my stern look, looking back to his men and nodding. He knelt first, and the rest followed in a wave of bent kees.

“There isn't no man a thousandth as strong!” Tormund’s roar bellowed. “I do not kneel to a man or king. I kneel to a God! The caller of thunder, wielder of lightning and master of the winds! An army of one, slayer of Others - our sacred guardian!”

The rest roared in agreement, sealing the deal.

“Very well.” I nodded. “You may all rise, reborn as my subjects. Do not forget yourselves or I'll personally put you all in the snow.”

…

Due to the wildlings being without horses, it took much longer to return to Castle Black. Nine days, to be exact, after the six days of rest after the battle. The winds were originally quite turbulent but I calmed them down to the note of still water. It was a rather draining action in my state, however.

I was welcomed by what seemed to be the entire castle upon my appearance. Robb seemed quite relieved to see me. I noticed some of the black brothers looking at me with strange, disapproving expressions - no doubt concerning my recent decisions.

“Why do we share our walls with wildlings?” An old man with a round red face questioned, eyeing me. “Our food-”

“If I recall, they had their own rations. If anything, we’re more likely to be eating their food.” I countered, raising an eyebrow. “Nevermind that, who are you?”

“Bowen Marsh, Lord Steward and the Castellan of Castle Black.”

“Well, Lord Steward. You should be good with numbers, yes? While the wars against the Lannisters and Ironborn were short-lived, thousands of men died on both sides. The Night’s Watch has nineteen castles, only three of which have active garrisons. Winter is coming and, with it, countless of wights and likely a greater number of white walkers.” 

I looked at each disgruntled northman. 

“They are a greater foe than any other, a foe that threatens the survival of every living man, woman and child in the world. They do not care if you are a free folk, kneeler, or whatever other differences we might have. It’s all the same to them… the Others will not rest until we all perish.”

I turned back to Bowen Marsh.

“Would it be better to keep our petty grudges and waste thousands more, or have peace and a greater chance of survival by working together as one? Tell me, Bowen Marsh.”

“You trust them too much.” Bowen Marsh shook his head. “They would never accept our ways. They are wildlings.”

“If I am wrong, I’ll personally hunt down each wildling who has broken their oath and taken my kindness for granted. You can rest assured of that.”

“You are too young and inexperienced to make such decisions. By trusting them, you will have doomed too many of us. Your father wouldn’t have let a single one of them pass the gate.”

“It is always the old who are stuck in their ways.” I sighed, shaking my head. “My father fought against half the Realm, the Crownlands, the Reach, Dorne and loyalist houses across the land… how many lords were pardoned? How do you think we had peace and prosperity for all those years? If old grudges were kept, they’d all be fighting till this day.”

“... It is not the same. They were noble houses and these are-”

I had grown weary of the aged argument.

BANG.

Lightning struck the earth between him and I, startling Bowen Marsh along with most men present. It was not something that affected me in the slightest, however. My eyes were frozen on him while the suddenly violent wind blew my hair left. I stepped forward, feeling his sense of unease. 

“Stay counting coins, Lord Steward. You have a better mind for it.”

His voice seemed to be stuck in his throat, for he did not speak another word. Nothing intelligible, at least. I should have been more caring. An old man like that might catch a heart attack. Perhaps, he did…

“Let me remind you that the people you call wildlings are my subjects, same as you. Breaking the King’s Peace is treason, lest you’ve forgotten. Be mindful of your words.”

“... Yes… Your Grace.”

He seemed to struggle with that, the words all mumbles. Unfortunately, too few men bother to look at the bigger picture. They only see what’s in front of them…

“Good.”

I smiled, patting his shoulder, before facing Robb.

“You seem weary from your journey, Your Grace.” He remarked, observing the stitching at my cheek. “Was there a great battle?”

“We fought seven Others and slew them all, but not without losses… Ser Arys, Ser Mandon and Ser Lyn, good knights all, gave their lives for my own. Without them, I would not be here. This wound… is a reminder that I alone cannot fight the battles to come.” I touched the wound, shaking my head. “That is why I am so determined to unite us all against them. I know, better than anyone else, what they are capable of. Only by fighting side by side will we live to see another spring.”

It seemed like my words had a great sway over those who were against the idea originally. Still, I couldn’t move south… not now - as much as I’d prefer to. The unrest was as plain as a pile of shit on a marble floor. I’d need to micromanage these people and ensure the peace before moving on. It will not be easy, but I chose this path and will see it completed.

…

I’d eat my fill and retire to a bedchamber, still weary from my most recent battle. I had pushed myself to get to Castle Black as quickly as I did, leading to a lack of energy. For a time, I could not rest and found myself staring at the ceiling. As the cold permeated through the air, I felt a sense of doubt, fear, and discontent… among a hundred other things. 

Being weak now was the worst time of all, I knew. I had to be strong - or, at least, have the image of being strong. With most of the Night’s Watch in one place, the election of the next Lord Commander would begin without delay. Someone unfitting would be disastrous… and only get in the way of my plans. It could only be one person—someone who saw the same picture that I did.

My unrest would lead me to slip out of bed and seek out Jon Snow, who I found training with other members of the Night’s Watch and freefolk. Jaime Lannister was down there as well, displaying martial prowess that awed many. But he wasn’t just beating them; he was teaching them to be better, which was definitely something new. Tyrion was above him, watching over the yard. 

As I drew closer, a great many eyes seemed to turn to me. 

“If I had no prior knowledge, I’d think you came here of your free will.” I returned Jaime’s glare, smiling. “You’re doing rather well for yourself.”

He retained hold of his sword, and, for a moment, I wondered if he’d try to take a swing. Alas… he did not.

“Better than rotting away.” Jaime shrugged. “If I can recall, I do owe you a session.”

“A bit busy at the moment.”  I turned to Jon, gesturing for him to come with me.

“... Hmph.”

I took him to the Lord Commander’s quarters, which had remained empty. Jon Snow looked perplexed by the choice of setting. I sat down at the main seat of the small table, curiously flipping over the documents. 

“What do you need of me, Your Grace?”

“You’re the only man in the Night’s Watch who sees these matters like I do.” I looked at him with a serious expression. “To achieve my goals, I will need a Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch who works with me - and not against me. You’re the only one I can entrust this duty.”

“There are several black brothers more favoured than I-”

“That matters very little. I will not allow another to take that mantle, especially not the likes of Bowen Marsh… and if it does happen, it will be short-lived. Though, I hope it does not come to that.”

“You mean…”

“I mean to have you win. The question is, will you accept the honour?”

“...” There was a brief pause, where his hesitation all but faded. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Let us speak of the future, then.”

~

The only way a man could win the election was by having two-thirds of the Black Brothers vote for him or more. For those still garrisoned in Eastwatch or the Shadow Tower, their commanders would vote for them. The election is repeated the next day if no candidate achieves the two-thirds majority. There was once a choosing that lasted seven hundred days… and, well, Edric didn't have that kind of time.

On the first day, Bowen Marsh, Denys Mallister, and Cotter Pyke were some of the more obvious picks as leading officers. Jaime Lannister rose to contention thanks to the surplus of Lannister men and his recent showing at the Bridge of Skulls. Jon Snow was supported by a group of black brothers as well. There was Janos Slynt, who somehow managed to curry favour and gather support through his old role as Lord Commander of the City Watch. With the votes being split six ways, no one could have hoped to win the required two thirds majority.

In the next couple days, Bowen Marsh would keep losing votes and shift his support in favour of Janos Slynt - giving him a decent lead over all the others.

Seeing this, Edric would establish his hold over the voting by stating that he would personally choose the next Lord Commander if they took more than a week. While this was technically forbidden, he certainly had the power to make such a claim. Though, forcing the issue would make the chosen Lord Commander’s position less… legitimate and stable.

There was a higher purpose behind this threat.

…

“Thank you for having me, Your Grace.” Janos Slynt eagerly bent his head. “I am a changed man, I promise-’

“Of course,” Edric spoke earnestly, nodding. “Between you and me, I don’t like any of these candidates. Despite our past, I would have to favour you the most. What other options are there, after all? Bowen Marsh is a fool, Cotter Pyke is Ironborn and foul-mouthed, Denys Mallister is old, Jon Snow is too young and Ser Jaime… where to begin with him.”

“I see your reasoning, Your Grace.” Janos Slynt sounded eager, practically fawning. “You are wise beyond your years to understand such matters.”

“Indeed… that is why I would choose you. You have my support in this election. You need to keep getting closer to winning, and I will stand by you.”

After some more chatting, Edric had Janos Slynt on board. As the ex-Lord Commander of the City Watch left the study room, the King’s lips turned into a devious grin. Before long, he laughed at the matter.

‘How gullible…’

(Next chapter very soon... wanted some sleep)

Raiden's Storm Chapter 90: Daylight Robbery

[Dorian’s POV]

After many days at sea, Dorian walked onto the expansive port of Volantis. It always was the oldest and proudest of the nine Free Cities, the first colony of old Valyria, which many call the ‘First Daughter’. After the doom of Valyria, they had considered themselves its heir and rightful rulers of the world. At the height of their power, they had taken both Lys and Myr… but Tyrosh, they would not have. Braavos lent their ships, the Pentoshi joined Tyrosh, and the two conquered free cities rebelled. Even the Storm King found it fitting to join the fray, defeating a Volantene force that tried to retake Myr. When Aegon, before he was the conqueror, allied with Tyrosh and Pentos, it was as good as finished.

Only dragons could lay claim to the world, which was the lesson the First Daughter had learned, focusing on trading and expanding her wealth ever since.

Along the way to the ancient city of Volantis, Dorian bolstered his wealth by trading goods from Myr to Tyrosh and later Lys. Given his experience, he knew what would fetch the best profit. Finally, being on Volantis in the flesh, he admired the more ancient structures as he had done years before. His keen eye observed the vast hordes of slaves, which typically outnumbered freedmen five to one, and wore distinct tattoos to mark their station. A single tear on the right eye marked a slave prostitute, a horsehead on the cheek marked a stable worker, flies on the cheek marked a dung collector and so on.

It was the slaves who built the city that stands today, guided by the hands of their masters, yet all they would ever pass down is another chain collar.

Knowing that walking afoot taints the eyes of noblemen, Dorian bought himself a palanquin and put on some luxurious clothes. He had some of his best men carry the palanquin and take him to the Black Walls of Volantis, which stood two hundred feet high and thick enough for six four-horse chariots to race around it side by side. Within those walls was a labyrinth filled with palaces, courtyards, towers, temples and cellars where the lords of ancient blood lived. Only they could invite ‘inferior’ individuals such as slaves, freedmen and foreigners inside their walls.

The guards readied their spears, wearing clear jade-green tiger stripes on their cheeks. Slave soldiers.

“Address your master.”

“Dorian Daggerhand, Captain-General of the Stormravens.” Jace, one of his captains, replied with confidence. “He requests entry within the Black Walls of Volantis from Lord Vigarys.”

One of the guards retreated inside of the walls. After some time, he returned with a nobleman of the Tiger political faction. The Tigers favoured war and conquest, while the Elephants were a party of traders.

 It was an older man, with only grey for hair yet plenty of it. He arrived by hathay, a cart pulled by a baby elephant. 

“You always arrive at such opportune times, Dorian. I, Vigarys Artheon, invite you personally into the Black Walls.” The nobleman looked to the guard, getting the formalities out of the way, before turning back to Dorian. “Come, join me on this bench. We have much to speak of.”

“Do we?” Dorian grinned slightly.

“Oh, yes. Your talents would be most helpful.”

“Jace, wait here.”

Dorian left his palanquin and joined him on the hathay. The rider urged the baby elephant forward, and it began marching along the elaborate pathway. The aged noble then looked at Dorian.

“I thought you had retired from sellsword work.”

“Gold was running a bit low.” Dorian smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “It sounds like you have need of me. Nothing easy, I bet?”

“If it were easy, much cheaper men would do.”

“Now you have my curiosity.”

…

Invited to dinner, Dorian would enjoy a dinner with Vigarys in the walls of a manse that looked more like a castle. After sharing a drink, Vigarys observed the seemingly cutthroat captain with caution. A dozen of his most loyal guards surrounded the room.

“Why are you here, truly? It's not just because you missed home… and gold is plentiful in other places, closer to the west.”

“The truth?” Dorian looked back, showing his sharp teeth. “I wanted a dragon egg. One of the elephant nobles has one… Valon, is it?”

“You think you'd be able to replicate the slave-loving queen’s miracle? Even you couldn't be so delusional.”

“No, I simply want to hang one in my manse.” Dorian shrugged. “I’ve attained a great many things in my life - but a dragon egg is not one of them. I feel… incomplete.”

“So, you're a collector now?” 

“Aye. Now, you mentioned a contract?”

“You know how Volantis was developed and how it maintains itself. There was a disturbance in Slaver’s Bay, a wave that can spread closer than we would like. That horselord whore gives them hope. The slaves who make our food, clean our streets, fight our battles, clean our streets, man the galleys that we trade by… she gives them hope that someday they might be free.” 

“Our?” Dorian laughed, shaking his head.

“The Old Blood of Volantis. Elephant nor tiger can sleep in peace during such times. We plan to send a vast fleet to put her down and all talks of freedom. But - you’d be cheaper than over five hundred ships. Unless, it’s too much for you alone?”

“Why, I’m the finest assassin in the world.” Dorian grinned, shaking his head. “Alas, killing someone as well guarded as the Dragon Queen… it’s rather risky. Possible, yes - but only a contract I’d accept with a fitting reward.”

“And what will sway you, gold?”

“Half a million gold pieces upon completion would suffice. However, I require the dragon egg in advance before I give you my word.”

“Valon will not be happy.” Vigarys smiled, stroking his beard. “Though, as little as I care for the man, I’m not quite fond of putting my reputation and influence on the line to seize such an item before you complete the deed.”

“I’m not fond of the prospect of a force as mighty as Volantis simply laughing in my face once I am done. Who is more vulnerable here, my friend? One of the mightiest cities in the world or one man? I’ve never turned my back on a contract but the Triarchs of Volantis are all politickers who lie as much as they speak. I will be paid in advance or find something else to do with my time.”

“Quite the ultimatum.”

“It’s just a piece of stone, at the end of the day. You’d rather risk this Dragon Queen sinking your fleet and then coming over to break some more chains?” Dorian grinned as he shrugged his shoulders. “Truth be told, I might take your distrust as an insult and help her instead.”

“You’d lose sorely.”

“Only time would tell. Do you want to take that risk?”

Vigarys gave him a stare while the guards looked ready to move from their roots. Dorian did not look amused, grabbing an apple and munching on it.

“You always drive a hard bargain, Dorian. You are fortunate to possess the skills that you do.”

“I only make demands that I know you’d agree with, old partner.” Dorian chuckled. “Since when did you like the peaceful Elephants who have kept you from war? Stripping them of such a treasure under the guise of benefitting every noble in Volantis… I’m surprised you didn’t say yes immediately.”

“Your cunning tongue is your greatest asset. Very well, I shall write up this contract. You will have a year to bring us her head.”

“I’ll serve it on a golden platter.”

After signing the contract, the Triarchs of Volantis would grant him five ships and a hundred and fifty mercenaries. Though it was under the guise of ‘assisting him’, Dorian knew better. These mercenaries were not his friends… but rather precautions. He would spend a few days getting to know the captains before sailing from Volantis.

As he sat in his cabin, all he could look at was the dragon egg. It was mostly black, streaked with gold that shined in the night. Its scales were authentic, enduring the hottest of flames. Small wonder the noble was so reluctant to part with it, Dorian thought to himself. An otherwordly beauty of a bygone era, solid as stone, yet ever so majestic.

He turned to the contract laying on the table, etched in his blood. His lips curled into a grin as he carelessly tossed it to the side.

It’s the dawn of a new era.

~

[Jon’s POV]

As soon as the King departed, a clear sense of unease washed over Castle Black. The Wildlings had knelt to Edric Baratheon, yet that did not make them all that fond of the crows around them. The Night’s Watch and Northmen had similar views, who were more than happy to cut them down if not for the King’s decree. Alas, it was Robb’s duty to keep the peace which Jon aided with where he could. 

“She’s mad.” One of the Northmen frowned, pointing at Harma Dogshead. “The wildling bitch took my dog in the night and killed it!”

“It was for my banner.” Harma Dogshead shrugged. “A totem.”

“Your totem? I’ll shove it up your ass, you wildling.”

Before the Northman could draw his sword, Jon grabbed his hand. 

“Let’s not get into a war over a dog.” 

“Snow? As far as I know, you’re one of them.” The Northman stared at him coldly, brushing his hand off.

“Even if I was, what would it matter?” Jon questioned, raising an eyebrow. “We’re meant to be united as one either way. We all serve the same King.”

“Do they?” The Northman spat. “As soon as they go south, who is to stop them from raiding our lands, killing us, stealing our crops, taking away women and girls - as they’ve always done?”

“If you want a fight, we can give you one.” Halleck, Harma’s brother, stepped forward with an axe.

“The King’s Peace. Whoever breaks it, shall meet justice - as with any outlaw. Not all freefolk are what you believe them to be. There are those with ill intentions and those who simply seek a better life, to live past the Winter - same as all of us. We cannot judge them all to be the same.”

“Jon is right.” Robb stepped in. “Those who break the King’s laws shall meet the King’s justice, simple as that. Harma Dogshead - you swore to abide by his laws and disband your wildling ways. Fortunately for you, it was just a dog, which I can overlook so long as you repay our man fairly and express regret over your actions. Unless, you’d wish for His Grace to oversee this matter later… to which, I can assure you he will not be as kind.”

“...” At the mention of Edric, Harma Dogshead’s position on the matter had changed. “I express my regret over my actions. I will find you a new dog.”

“... And don’t steal it from someone else.” Robb shook his head.

Later, Jon would share supper with his brother, sister and Edric’s highborn squire. Dickon Tarly had all the courage and vigour that his brother Sam had lacked. He’d often go into the yard and face older boys, even men in intense spars. Bruises, scratches and other wounds did not deter him. He was born to be a warrior and, doubtlessly, Lord Tarly took great pride in him. Yet, he did not have Samwell’s wits and love for books and knowledge. He only knew the way of the sword.

“Threatening to fight over some dog.” Robb shook his head. “Every day, it’s something new.” 

“His Grace should’ve butchered the widllings.” Dickon added. “They don’t bring anything but discontent and chaos. It’s the one time I thought of him as soft.”

“It is the opposite of that.” Arya countered. “Killing them is easy for him, you’ve all seen it. What’s more difficult is uniting two kinds of people who have been fighting for hundreds, if not thousands of years.”

Jon nodded. “With time, it will get better.”

He would spar the squire later, testing his steel. His observations were proven right. He was good. Not someone Jon struggled against, but he imagined that the boy would be a far more formidable as a man.

“I hear you were close with my brother.” The squire would later inquire from him as their spar came to an end. “How is he? I’ve not seen him around.”

“I can’t say for certain.” Jon admitted, shaking his head. “I can only hope that he finds his way south to the Wall from the expedition.”

“... My father would have his wish if he did not.” Dickon remarked.

“And you?”

“He’s still my blood - my brother. I would only wish for him to be strong.”

“You squired for the right person.” Jon said, nodding. “Sam is… deceptively strong. He’ll be back in time.”

…

A day later, Bowen Marsh and his men would return. Jaime Lannister was not too far from the front, leading a wave of fresh black brothers he did not recognise. These were the Lannister men in black, he soon realised. His appearance left a sour taste in the Northmen, who had fought against the Lannisters not all that long ago.

Among their group was Gilly and Sam, who Jon smiled at the sight of. He had survived, after all.

“What’s this?” Bowen Marsh frowned, observing all the wildlings in Castle Black with a disapproving glare.

“It’s a long story.” Robb replied, glancing back. “Many things occurred in a short period of time. Come inside and I shall explain everything.”

“I do love a long story.” Jaime dismounted from his horse, taking a look at the wildlings. “I take it this is Edric’s doing?”

“You would be right, Kingslayer.” Robb nodded.

“You sound and look more like your father, Lord Stark, only with Tully colours.” Jaime mused.

“I find that black suits you well.” Robb countered.

“You think so?” Jaime shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose it brings out the gold.”

With the thousands of free folk, Edric’s return on the horizon and the entire Night’s Watch gathering… no one could predict who would be the next elected Lord Commander. Bowen Marsh, while the Lord Steward, was not fitting to be Lord Commander in other aspects. There are plenty of men who would vote against him as well or choose the commanders of their respective posts, such as the Shadow Tower or Eastwatch.

The air was teeming with uncertainty…

Raiden's Storm Chapter 89: Steady Growth

[Edric’s POV]

Most of the food I got was seafood, which I wasn’t too fond of at first sight. But… the crabs… they were good. I found myself munching without much of a care in the world. It made me think that perhaps the Wall isn’t so bad - at least Eastwatch isn’t. 

“Sorry for making you watch me stuff my face.” I chuckled, watching Loras stand by the wall. “So, how is everyone taking the white walker discovery?”

“Some are startled, others already knew. Most of your men fall in the former.”

“I bet the Small Council will take my words and plans with greater urgency now. Truth be told, these Others are likely only a small detachment of their forces. They have a King of their own, you see, and that King is mightier than I.” 

“How do you know all of this?”

“It’s… a prophecy of sorts. He is my nemesis, the ice to my storm. He’s not just my enemy, alas, he’s the enemy of all the living—his goal to vanquish us all and lock the world into winter. By the time he shows himself, it might be too late to start believing in my words.”

“I believe you, Your Grace.” Loras looked solemn. “We had hundreds of witnesses as well. I am certain that I can convince Renly of the truth and make him act more urgently.”

“And your family?”

“House Tyrell will support the Realm entirely in this matter, doing what we can to aid in its defence and survival. If the Wall is breached someday, everyone below it is bound to suffer. The Reach might enjoy some better days, but it will meet the same fate as the rest if we do not triumph over the white walkers.”

“Yes… they are our common enemy.” I affirmed. “Greater than all the politicking, feuds, gold, lands, religions, traditions and titles in the entire world. Everything will be meaningless if they win. Everything. Our history, our houses, our bloodlines, our accomplishments. They will all be turned to dust. That is a truth that everyone must come to understand…”

“They must realise that only by complete unity might we see another spring.”

“The Gods have given us a most fitting King to bear that burden,” Loras replied, nodding. “If it were anyone else, I’m not certain that would even be possible.”

“You give me too much credit.” I chuckled. “Fear can unite everyone.”

“Fear will not give them victory, only disorder. A leader who can inspire men to willingly march to their doom and sacrifice themselves for the greater good… that is another matter. I do not believe in the Red God, but his priestess might be right about one thing. You are the leader that will carve the way forward into the future.”

“Thanks for adding to my burden, Ser,” I sarcastically remarked.

“I’m sure you can handle it, Your Grace,” Loras replied, smiling. “You are the chosen son of the Seven, after all. The Gods would not choose someone feint of heart.”

“Heh. I hope you don’t get too lonely without my uncle,” I replied, munching on some rough, thick and hard piece of bread. I had to sink my teeth in there like a damn dinosaur. “We’ll be away from King’s Landing for a great while longer. I’d like to maintain order here and ensure the wildlings settle in peacefully. There’s also the matter of the new Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch…”

“Though I do miss the Lord Hand, my duty is to you. I have no discontent regarding that. If anything, you are quite like him.”

“I don’t know how to feel about that.” I chuckled. “Don’t start falling in love with me; I don’t roll that way.”

“No… not in that way.” 

“In what way?” I blinked, acting surprised.

“Well…”

“Oh, I’m just jesting. I already know.” I shrugged. “Why do you think I wanted you as my Kingsguard? Not only were you a prodigy with endless fame, but you also had that… relationship. It’s more convenient for all parties involved, no? No one would have to wonder why the third son of Mace Tyrell isn’t married, and you’d be around each other all the time.”

“I… didn’t think you were that considerate nor accepting.”

“Do whatever you want, so long as I don’t see it.”

“Fair enough.” Loras let out a chuckle.

“Friends support each other, in the end. If that’s what makes you happy… that’s what makes you happy. Though, you really are cheating the other Kingsguard with this little loophole.”

“I don’t think you care too much for that oath regardless. If Ser Arthur sired a bastard, I scarcely doubt you would punish him.”

“Punish him?” I laughed. “I’d slap him on his back for finding a woman who’d make him forget his honour and take the bastard as a ward. Alas, he would not be the first to break that oath. As long as he is dedicated to his duty, it doesn’t really matter to me.”

Loras smiled. “That’s why I love you… as a King.”

He got me in the first half, I won’t lie. 

“Don’t flatter me.” I chuckled, shaking my head. “Anyway, you should tell everyone to take a little break. We’ll stay in Eastwatch for a while.”

“You need to recover your strength?”

“Mhm… wouldn’t do anyone any good if I fell off my horse and snapped my neck in the cold snow.”

“I shall pass on the news.”

~

[Arthur’s POV]

“I… can’t do this…” 

One of the recruits at the back of the run huffed from exhaustion, falling to the ground. Arthur walked up to him.

“My body’s sore everywhere, Ser…” 

“That means you’re doing it right.”

Arthur gave a reassuring smile, offering his hand.

“His Grace once told me ‘the pain you feel today, is the strength you will feel tomorrow’. All that pain you’re feeling now… it’s trying to keep you from achieving the heights that you’re capable of. Don’t let it keep you down and keep going. Turn that pain into anger and that anger into motivation.”

“... Yes, Ser!”

With his spirit rekindled, the recruit took Arthur’s hand and the knight pulled him right back on his feet.

“Go on, finish the run and taste the glory of success. You’re closer than you think.”

…

“Woah… this horse is a bit wild…”

Arthur watched as one of the recruits struggled to tame their horse, getting dismounted. Big Baegel had managed to grab hold of him and stopped the hard fall.

“Stupid greenboy can’t ride horse.” Big Baegel remarked with a mocking tone.

“Your horse is not just a tool, Brunn. It’s a companion.” Arthur spoke with a lecturing tone. “You need to earn its approval before riding it. Ideally, you grow so close that you ride as one.”

“The others have tamer horses… it’s not fair.”

“Are you afraid of a little challenge?” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “If you can’t properly control your horse, how could you consider yourself a royal guard? You can’t be forceful, you have to be patient.”

He proceeded to grab the reins of the stallion and masterfully earning its trust. Before long, he got on the saddle and showed the recruit how its done. After a lap around the tourney grounds, he returned and hopped off.

“See? This horse, while more unrestrained, is still trained. You tried to skip right ahead to riding it - forgetting the first step. Try again - with patience this time.”

“... Yes, ser.”

Being free from his Kingsguard duties gave a strange sense of liberty, though he found himself doing far more than he would otherwise. During the day, he would oversee the training of the recruits, putting them through rigorous exercises that Edric himself would do. Arthur hadn’t seen these be used by anyone else outside of the people who learnt from him… but they certainly worked, considering his development.

These included pushups, situps, long runs without and with armour, squats, riding lessons and practice melee battles. Though strict, Arthur moderated just how severe the training was and gave sufficient breaks. During midday and the night, he’d provide them with plenty of food and good accommodations from his own purse. They’d often celebrate the nights after a good day’s of work and soon, as Arthur’s hellish training became more routine for them, they began looking forward to pushing themselves further.

“Hey, ser. How about some of us try sparring you?” A group of recruits approached him. “We need to know how we’d do against a proper knight.”

“Sounds like some fly-swatting is needed.” Valaegor chuckled, stepping in front of Arthur with a wooden spear. “Don’t worry, Ser. I’ll humble them personally.”

“Don’t go too hard on them…”

In ten seconds flat, he beat them all down.

…

The days went on and on, with the recruits steadily improving under Arthur’s training regime. Still recovering from his wounds, he watched from the hill that overlooked the tourney grounds. After filling their bellies full of food, a good chunk of the more determined recruits had gone into the night to practice some more - bugging both Taelor and Anguy, who Arthur had recruited to teach them archery.

“Taking a nap, sergeant?” Valaegor stepped next to him. 

“No, I’m just watching over them.” Arthur shook his head. A glow of pride lit his eyes as he smiled. Their growth gave him a sense of gratification. 

“Damn saint.” Valaegor chuckled, watching one of them shoot way off target. “There’s still much work to be done, it seems.”

“You don’t shoot a couple of arrows and become a marksman. His Grace used to be quite… awful - but he was determined to improve. Every free hour he’d get, he would grab a bow and some arrows. Under the morning light, in the night, under rain and storm; it didn’t matter. It takes time.”

“There are some things you can’t teach.” Valaegor sat down next to him. “You can train them as much as you’d like, but none of them will be half the archer Edric is.”

“A tenth would be enough. A hundred men that skilled would turn the tides of many battles to come.”

“Fair enough - I walked into that one.” Valaegor chuckled. “How is it, being a Kingsguard? Do you have any regrets?”

“Odd question.” Arthur glanced at him. “Are you seeking to join now?”

“And give up the sweet taste of women?” Valaegor scoffed. “I’d sooner throw myself to the sea.”

“Is it all that important?” 

“I bet you’re a maid…” Valaegor observed his expression, laughing afterwards. “I’m right, aren’t I? You didn’t even know what you were giving up - nor will you.”

“Your pleasure is temporary,” Arthur looked unphased. “You move from one woman to the next - to what end?”

“It’s called tasting the world, my friend. To me, you are a blind man trying to tell me how the world looks.”

“And how does it look, with all your great sight?”

“It’s something you have to experience for yourself.” 

“Heh.” Arthur shook his head. “I suppose I won’t know, then.”

“You know the funny thing about that?” Valaegor tilted his head.

“What?” Arthur raised a bewildered eyebrow.

“Never say never.”

“... Right.”

“Anyway, why did you become a Kingsguard? Was it the glory, the honour?”

“I did it to stand by my friend and be the knight I’ve dreamed of being - to help bring the Kingsguard to their glory. I wanted to aspire others as the great knights of the past aspired me.” 

“By the Lord of Light, I hate you.” Valaegor laughed, spitting on the ground. “You are far too idealistic, Ser. Your lack of flaws makes me feel too inadequate.”

“I have flaws, as we do all. I wouldn’t be sitting here if that were not true.”

“Right. You let me face you on even terms - I respect you for that.” Valaegor stroked his chin. “Sooo what are the chances of Edric accepting me?”

“If I accept you, it makes it far more likely.” Arthur shrugged.

“Already scouting potential Kingsguard replacements?”

“You’d make one of the worst Kingsguard in history. Besides, I doubt any of the Kingsguard will die anytime soon.”

“Funny thing about that.” Valaegor grinned slightly.

“... What? Who? Where?”

“Hehe, you believe in R’hllor now?”

“No way in seven hells.”

“Aw.” Valaegor looked dejected before smiling. “Anyway, there’s been worse Kingsguard, probably. My ability alone makes up for it.”

“If you were as disciplined as you are arrogant, then you’d be the greatest of them all,” Arthur remarked.

“Hahahaha.” Valaegor laughed. “You know, you’re not so bad.”

“Don’t try buttering me up.”

“No, Sergeant, Ser - I wouldn’t dare.” Valaegor got up, yawning. “Before I go, you should know that as much as you wish to be a peerless, ideal sword, you are still made of flesh. We were born with cocks for a reason. One day, you’ll find the right lady to stick it into.”

“Get out of here.”

Arthur pushed him forward, and Valaegor almost tripped down the hill. As Valaegor left full of laughter, Arthur was left with his thoughts.

Would I forget my oath? No, I wouldn’t… that’s not me.

Arthur shook his head.

Raiden's Storm Chapter 88: Storm's Guard

[Edric’s POV]

After the battle, I gathered my removed gauntlet and Lady Forlorn. Once all of the adrenaline faded, I felt like a zombie. A shell being kept awake by will alone. 

“Your Grace, what is the use of the Kingsguard if you don't trust us to protect you?” Brienne questioned.

I looked to Ser Arys and Ser Mandon, who were long dead. 

“If you believe that the Kingsguard will stand by and watch you protect us instead, you've given the wrong people a white cloak.” Balon Swann spoke, shaking his head. “There is no death more honourable for a Kingsguard than dying for the King they were sworn to protect. Ser Arys and Ser Mandon knew that full well.”

“And where am I to find replacements for such brilliant knights?” Edric questioned, raising an eyebrow. “If you were just shields and swords to me, I'd throw you into battle without hesitation. Alas, I couldn't. You all are more than that.”

“I am certain the Realm would weep less for a few knights than their King.” Brynden Tully looked to the forest. “Besides, those terrible creatures… only you can lead us against them. If we lose you, we lose hope.”

“I’d imagine all the high lords would be scrambling for pieces of your crown.” The Hound added.

“Heh.” I chuckled knowingly. “Yeah.”

Afterwards, I made the seemingly endless walk back to the Wall and Eastwatch, falling into the closest bed I could find.

…

The Plane of Euthymia.

“Your Kingsguard were right.” Raiden Shogun touched the gash along my cheek, which was quite long and deep. It would definitely leave its mark. “If you had them by your side, this wound wouldn't exist.”

“How awful… my baby face is ruined.” I made a look of dismay before chuckling. “How bad is it, truly?”

“You look terribly hideous.” She made a slight smile.

“On the bright side, I believe I dealt quite the blow to the Night King. That one Other was a powerful combatant… one that could've caused many problems in the future.”

“Is this what you would call ‘copium’?” She raised a humoured eyebrow.

“Very much so.” I laughed, shaking my head. “I mean, it's a small price to pay. The true losses were my two Kingsguard.”

“You will find replacements. None of them were too extraordinary. For your greatest benefit, you should find men with a strong will.”

“Those with the potential of a Vision?”

“Precisely.”

“Easier said than done… but it's definitely something worth exploring. If I had a healthy Arthur with me, I wouldn't have been wounded - nor would I have to babysit him. Hell, we would've mopped the floor with those bastards.”

“He has the blessing of fire.” Raiden acknowledged. “A perfect counter to their bodies of ice.”

“Unfortunately, men like Arthur don't grow on trees.” I sighed.

“While strong desires are part inherent, they can be nurtured just as well. Your charisma and leadership should be capable of inspiring such desires in others… as you did with your friend.”

“An army of vision bearers would be quite formidable.” I stroked my chin. “An effective and reliable weapon against the Others - especially in my absence. I cannot be in all places at the same time.”

“Try getting a couple before you speak of an army.” Raiden smiled slightly.

“If you aim to climb a hill, you’re not reaching the mountain top,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders. “I’m seeking the skies.”

“How philosophical. Though, you’re not doing much in your current state. I believe you know the routine already?”

“It’s a routine now?” I raised an eyebrow, chuckling. “It sounds like you just want a free cuddle.”

“Mutually beneficial - in more ways than one.” She replied, sitting down. “Don’t pretend to object to the notion.”

“Uh-huh.” I smiled. “I suppose I do need to recover my strength.”

I laid down and got comfortable, placing my head on her lap. My body warmed to hers and livened from her touch. It was electrifying, in a way. I felt stronger. However, this energy made me a bit restless. All my mind could think of was the Others… they were living rent-free in there.

“You lost your famed warhammer in the battle.” Raiden Shogun remarked.

“It was always Robert’s,” I replied, looking up at her. “It is as you said; I will have to forge my own weapons to contest against them. My only saving graces were my magic, stash of dragonglass and Ser Lyn Corbray so kindly carrying Lady Forlorn. I fear I’d be six feet under already if I were lacking for any of those.”

“Or you could have retreated.”

“... Mayhaps,” I admitted.

“Your streak of victories has given you quite the reckless spirit in battle.”

“If I see an advantage, I’ll seek it out.” I countered, shrugging. “If I had retreated, I would’ve gained and lost nothing. By facing them, I gained more than I lost… or so I believe. The largest gain was knowing that the Night King has much more formidable Others in his ranks and me slaying one of them.”

“Take care it doesn’t kill you.”

“I’m cautiously reckless.” I chuckled, shaking my head. “If that were the Night King, I’d be on the other side of the Wall as soon as I saw him.”

“Cautiously reckless…”

She smiled.

~

[Arthur’s POV]

While Edric had left him twenty-five men, five of which were hardened men-at-arms, Arthur had gone out of his way to recruit from King’s Landing. That number soon quadrupled to a hundred as the prospect of being provided by the King and fighting alongside him was supremely popular. Arthur’s own fame, gained from the Great Tournament, made it all too simple for him to pick men off the street. He could’ve recruited an even greater number, but he decided to keep it at a hundred as this was his first time training other men.

Since he did so, he had the luxury of picking the healthiest of the bunch. The elderly, frail and overly youthful would not do too well in battle, after all. Once he finished his selection, he rallied them outside of King’s Landing near the tourney grounds where all the necessary equipment had been prepared by the City Watch the night prior. He had taken a few of Rhaerra’s blue cloaks as well.

Arthur observed their ranks, standing brilliantly over a hill that overlooked them. He took a breath of confidence before speaking loud and clear;

“You’ve made the decision to dedicate yourselves to His Grace, the King. A simple decision - who wouldn’t wish to fight for the King and be rewarded for it? Who wouldn’t want to rise to a place of glory, honour and prestige? However, before you continue and come to regret this, let me tell you one thing… his place is not for those of feint heart!”

He drew Nightfall, its dark blade stealing the light from the morning sun.

“You will suffer endless hardships, you will sweat, you will bleed… you may just die. Many of you will, as battles come and go - that is the reality! Only the strong and dedicated will survive by his side, becoming seasoned, disciplined, mighty and absolutely fearless warriors who spit in the face of death. The royal guard, elites amongst elites, a personal army directly under the command of the King!”

“You will be his sword, his shield, his bow, his spear - the sacred guardians of the Realm. The men who uphold the King’s peace and serve him with absolute loyalty, through thick and thin. Who of you think yourselves worthy and fitting?”

His eyes scanned the crowd.

“It is not too late to turn back… as I’m going to put those who remain through the Seventh Hell.”

He grinned, almost sinesterly.

There was a sense of unease especially when it came to the mention of death, though quite a number of them looked up to the challenge. One of them stepped forward with a look of confidence.

“Since I could remember, I dreamed of being a knight. A man who fights for what’s right and good. As the years went on, I’ve been a fisherman, a shop’s assistant, a farmer - I’ve gone from one place to another… the dream going away. But, then the old King raised his banners and I begged to have a spear in my hand - and I was given one. I fought in the Battle of the Fords and so many others after. It was the first time in my life I felt like I had a purpose. When I saw him, young as he was, winning and winning again… I knew he was special. Someone with a greater purpose than any one of us.”

He continued on.

“I would gladly give my life for him… the King, the chosen son of the Seven. I will kill his enemies and protect his life with my own. I will face the Seventh Hell you talk of to march behind him.”

This speech had roused the others.

"I’ve bled in the fields with nothing to show for it. Let me bleed for the King, for the Realm! I fear no trial, no pain. I will earn my place in the royal guard!"

“I was born a farmer’s son with dirt in my hands and hunger in my belly. Give me a sword and food, and the only thing I’ll be hungry for is the blood of his enemies!”

“I don’t fear hardship; I was born in it.”

“I’m not running away anywhere, Ser. I’ve come from Storm’s End to serve the King who gave me a home, helped build my family a farm and gave them a life of comfort. As he, the King of the people, dirtied his hands for me and my family… I shall dirty my hands for him, gladly, until death!”

The more men spoke, the stronger they were as a unit until the thoughts of turning back vanished entirely. Everyone remained. Arthur sheathed his sword, smiling at the result.

“Welcome to hell.”

~

[Edric’s POV]

I woke up, feeling a pain across my right cheek. Those thin ice swords really were something, to pierce through my helmet with such ease and cut so deep at a moment’s notice. Maybe I’d need to forge more than just magical weapons… 

I touched the wound, feeling the long line of stitches.

Someone had treated my wound?

After that thought, I struggled to sit up and felt completely drained. Clearly, I wouldn’t be in fighting shape anytime soon… at least, nowhere near my best. I willed myself to sit up and get dressed. Afterwards, I went out to see what was going on.

Loras stood by the door, smiling slightly as he saw me.

“You’ve seen better days, Your Grace.”

“I wonder who stitched the wound?”

“I did.” He replied simply.

“You have my thanks, then. Can you bring me some food and drink to my bedchamber? I still need to gather my strength.”

“As you wish.”

(We're going back to back, next chapter is like half-way done)

Chapter 87: Battle For Eastwatch

Edric swiftly returned to his body, observing his new opponents. Four wielded thin crystal swords; two held what seemed to be javelins of ice, while the largest of them all, a figure of ice not much shorter than Edric, wielded a colossal shield.

He looked back at all the corpses behind him and started taking out medium-sized jars of a certain substance. He began handing them out to his best riders. 

“Spill this around the corpses - we're going to trap them in flame before they can rise... As for the rest of you, retreat to the Wall and rain fire arrows on the wights that leave the forest. GO!”

Following his urgent order, the cavalry swiftly spread out. His Kingsguard and some others were the jar bearers, spraying it around the few hundred corpses with great speed. Meanwhile, the rest retreated to the gate with haste. As for the white walkers, they looked as serene as a warm lake. Indeed, wights emerged from the forest. Hundreds more.

Edric’s Eye of Stormy Judgement opened, floating above him.

The sky rumbled, followed by ominous clouds and rain that grew more overbearing with each second.

Edric grinned slightly.

It's good that I prepared for this.

Since he stood in front of the corpses, Edric didn't need to move and loaded his first arrow. In turn, one of the seven Others formed a javelin of ice. The Other threw first. With Hyper-Focus, Edric saw it a mile away and sidestepped casually - all the while charging an arrow of lightning from the tip. He fired at once, letting it soar into the sky at great pace.

Given the distance, and the night walker's great physical attributes, it dodged with otherworldly grace - letting out an icy sound of mockery as the arrowed passed. The arrow swiftly shifted - right around. 

It struck the night walker's back, piercing its core and exploding with a surge of purple lightning. With it's chest blown open, the Other shattered into beautiful purple crystals. Seeing this, the rest of them faded into the forest.

The dead behind Edric began to rise. Edric mounted his horse and took out a pot of wildfire. 

“Ride as far away from them as possible!”

His battlefield shout rumbled across the field, leading his men to fulfilling his will. They rode out from the rising corpses and further away. It was then that Edric tossed a larger keg of wildfire at the center of the corpses - aided by the wind.

With no further delay, he raised his left hand to the skies as it sparked with lightning.

In the blink of an eye, a dozen smaller bolts of lightning struck the earth and ignited the dormant flames all at once in a ring of fire. The keg in the middle was struck as well, spitting out wildifre from the centre. Under Edric’s will, the rain stopped, and the wind violently surged, spreading flame across the rising dead in an inferno of jade-coloured fire. In seconds, the newly risen wights turned to ash. 

God bless Aerys’ virtuous, flame-loving soul.

Edric thought to himself, taking satisfaction of how swiftly the wights behind him had been dealt with.

Meanwhile, more wights began emerging from the forest, and Edric cautiously used whiffs of the still raging wildfire to ignite his arrows. With each arrow, he put down a wight. Even though he was conserving his energy, it piled up. In the end, he took out another keg of dormant wildfire and used the wind to toss it right at the centre of their formation - igniting it with lightning once more.

The fire spread out once more, igniting not only the corpses but the forest too. An actual wildfire of wildfire broke out, scorching not only the wights but the woods too. Alas, not a single wight would be able to walk out of those woods again. 

“Have we won?” Ser Arys Oakheart questioned, with a rather hopeful tone.

“No,” Edric felt their presence still. “Get to the gate and behind the Wall.”

“But… what about you-”

“It’s an order.”

From the corners of the fire came six white walkers, the same ones from before, only that they were riding ginormous man-eating ice spiders. They surged out at such great speeds that no horse would be able to outrun it - going straight for Edric. Five of them threw ice projectiles at his horse, all of which he skillfully evaded with the slight use of wind to throw off a few of the ice javelins. Alas, they were gaining.

To counter, he raised his hand to the skies and struck down all six of the spiders with bolts of lightning, dismounting the Others. He struck the Others right after with a more powerful wave, only for his lightning to do minimal damage.

They’re tough, alright. I’ll make the next one count.

Edric noted to himself, riding away as he charged an arrow of lightning. Five of them continued advancing on foot, while one remained still as ice.

“They’re attacking from below,” Raiden Shogun advised. “They seek to dismount you as well.”

How?

Edric thought to himself.

It was then that the earth rumbled… and spikes of ice rose from the ground. Edric’s eyes widened as he watched his destrier be impaled by ice from below. Being prepared beforehand thanks to Raiden’s warning, he swiftly freed himself from the saddle, leaping to the side. 

He gave his faithful and brave destrier a sorrowful glance, hearing its last cries of pain as the horse was enveloped in ice. He turned to the Others with a glare of fury. Though his body should’ve been freezing from the cold, the blood in his body boiled even hotter.

“The Other with the shield is a greater foe than the rest combined. It was his attack that sent you to the ground.” 

Raiden spoke as Edric’s focus remained razor-sharp. He watched five of them advance while the Other with the shield stood in the back and remained still. Edric took a fresh arrow, swiftly channelling vast amounts of lightning all at once. The earth rumbled once more, and he lowered his bow - sprinting to the side. As before, ice rose from the ground, but he managed to evade it. 

With that, his arrow was loaded, and he let it fly—piercing the closest of the night walkers and exploding them from within. The earth rumbled once more… yet it was not under him—but rather behind! A large wall of ice would form around him, leaving Edric nowhere to go but forward.

Edric returned his bow to the Plane of Euthymia, switching to the Warhammer.

“You seek close combat?” Edric’s eyes flared purple as lightning engulfed his warhammer. “Get as close as you’d like.”

He charged forward to the west, aiming to break through their formation. The westernmost night walker charged forward with a piercing motion. The long crystal sword had greater reach, and the attack itself was swift and unorthodox by nature. Despite this, with Hyper-Focus and using the wind to fasten his step, Edric sidestepped the attack and put himself in prime position to counter.

CRACK.

He smashed his warhammer into the side of the white walker, the lightning only amplifying the blow as it tore through the being’s armour and broke into the ice within. Edric withdrew his warhammer, knowing there was another of them behind him. With another use of Hyper-Focus, he tried to evade the other’s advance, but its crystal blade narrowingly cut through the side of his helmet and gave him a sizeable gash across his cheek.

 An ice spear would follow, only thrown off trajectory by the wind.

He had managed to break through their attempt to entrap him, but not unscathed.

Even still, as he retreated, they grew twice as relentless.  

Edric heard the sound of galloping, a sound that grew louder and louder.

… I told them to keep away.

The Others suddenly withdrew, and the earth rumbled once more…

Forming a sort of ice rampart behind Edric at the perfect moment - piercing every last horse and dismounting his would-be saviours. The ice continued to expand, aiming to end them all. Edric looked at the other in the distance, unmoving. He struck him with a swift yet thunderous bolt of lightning - and the ice stopped.

Brienne, Loras, Balon, Lyn, Brynden and the Hound all had retreated to safety with minor wounds. Arys and Mandon, who were at the forefront of the charge… did not do so well. Mandon was covered in ice spikes from head to toe, while Arys had one large spike caved into his chest. 

“Forgive me, Your Grace…” Arys spoke, his blood spilling across the ice. “We couldn’t watch you fight on your… own.”

So be it.

The rest of the Others prepared ice javelins to the newcomers.

“Spread out and arm yourselves! Normal steel will not harm them and breaks when it touches their blades, so use this…”

Edric ordered, taking out a multitude of dragonglass weapons he stored up. He tossed a spear to the Hound, a long dagger to Loras and Brienne, arrowheads to Balon and a spear to Brynden. While he was arming them, the Others used this opportunity to throw their ice javelins - only for Edric to wave them all off. 

Still… the continuous use of magic was draining him.

“Dragonglass is brittle, don’t use it to clash against their weapons. Valyrian Steel is quite effective, however-”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

Lyn Corbray took charge of the vanguard, drawing Lady Forlorn’s smoke-grey blade. Thin crystal clashed against Valyrian Steel as a screech resounded across the field. The Other who clashed against him looked in a moment of surprise. Lyn withdrew, feinting a downwards swing, which the Other fell for, only to swing to the side and cut right through him horizontally. The Other shattered into crystals.

The Hound threw his javelin at the Other Edric had previously wounded, the dragonglass piercing its core and shattering the Other all the same. Loras confronted one of them alongside Brienne, distracting him and allowing her to strike his leg. The Other fell on one knee, and Loras swiftly dug his dragonglass into its heart. As for the final one, Balon was shooting out its legs with dragonglass arrowheads, allowing Brynden to stab his spear into its chest.

Meanwhile, Edric had been micro-managing and keeping the greater Other in the distance distracted with constant lightning. No more spikes had risen from the ground, proving that he needed to charge his attacks - similar to Edric when it came to arduous uses of magic. 

At last, the seventh Other began to move, raising its massive shield from the ground and drawing out a long thin crystal sword - advancing forward.

“Lyn, give me Lady Forlorn.” Edric immediately said.

“I can take him.” Lyn looked with confidence, having beaten one of them already. “You can support me with your magic.”

“...” Edric raised an eyebrow. 

Before he could do anything about Lyn’s disobedience, the Other slammed his shield into the ground once more, and spikes emerged from his shield - shooting out towards the charging Lyn Corbray. They pierced every bit of his body, tearing right past his armour.

“Let me fight for you now,” Edric said, drawing in Lady Forlorn with the wind and grasping it with his right hand. “I won’t allow any more of you to die on my watch.”

He charged forward, each step shaking the earth.

With his left, he channelled one burst of lightning into his warhammer and tossed it high into the sky. The Other looked confused as Edric wielded Lady Forlorn with both hands, its blade lighting up into a luminous purple glow. 

He charged the Other, dodging and weaving through his various ice projectiles until he was within striking distance. The Other raised his shield and stretched out its sword arm - aiming to stab him. Edric dodged and stabbed the core of the shield, right into the Other’s hand. He drove Lady Forlorn up and cut a line across the shield. 

Afterwards, he swiftly withdrew only to met with a swift advance.

The Other was swifter, slashing at him again. He clashed swords, slowly melting the thin crystal blade. It was then that he planted the shield to the ground once more. Edric knew that that meant, stepping back and preparing an attack of his own. He enforced the lightning around Lady Forlorn for one last attack.

The sky tore open as his warhammer soared down. The Other looked up, raising his shield to the sky to counter. 

BANG.

Warhammer smashed against shield, smiting it violently.

Given that it was damaged already, cracks began to emerge.

All the while, Edric tossed Lady Forlorn like a javelin, piercing the Other’s chest.

Despite the great wound, the Other remained standing where the rest would’ve fallen.

Edric did not hesitate, unfastening and removing his left gauntlet.

“You’re dying today.”

The Eye of Stormy Judgement dissipated as Edric charged everything he had into his left hand - forming an enormous spark of lightning. Meanwhile, the Warhammer lost its strength and fell to the ground, shattering from the ice that radiated from the shield. He charged forward at his greatest speed. Meanwhile, the Other struggled to remove Lady Forlorn - only managing to at the last moment.

An arrow from Balon Swann cracked its ankle, and the Hound tossed Brynden’s dragonglass spear into the arm of the other, forcing it to drop the shield.

It had tried to swing at Edric but, due to the ankle, the Other missed… and used the giant shield to protect itself.

Edric pierced through the hole in the shield, melting its sides and driving his hand inward. He extended the spark into a blade, cutting right through the chest. The Other tried to strike him once more, but Edric used his right gauntlet to deflect Lady Forlorn, pushing his blade of lightning deeper.

His violent blade of lightning melted its insides constantly, merging with the hole left behind by Lady Forlorn. He began to lift the Other up from the ground with his tremendous strength, almost as if he were impaling its chest. Lightning constantly smited his back, melting it continuously.

“Die…”

A whirlwind of wind erupted from Edric’s palm, infusing with the lightning. The two elements swirled within the Other’s chest, complimenting each other.

“DIE!”

With one final push, he sent the Other flying high into the sky as its chest exploded into a whirlwind of fiery hot lightning. Its insides were melting and tearing apart with each passing moment. Once its entire core was incinerated, the Other burst into crystals like the rest high into the sky.

Fireworks composed of an Other, wind and lightning.

It was a beautiful sight… if not for the absolute hellscape that was the land around him. The wildfire burning through the forest in front of him alongside the circle of wildfire still raging behind him. The trusty destrier he lost, alongside all the other fallen horses. The three fallen knights who died fighting for his cause and the hundreds of wildlings who were burnt to ashes.

Alas… seven Others had fallen today, amongst them an Other more extraordinary than all the others. But - that was not the Night King, far from it. An officer of sorts, Edric presumed, but no Night King… 

Edric observed the sight in silence, his body shaking from exhaustion. He had used far too much magic in too little time for what his body was suited to. He could barely stand. The lightning in his hand had flickered out, leaving his left hand with a growing cold. 

The wildlings in the distance who had looked back out of curiosity watched in awe. The men on the Wall were glad that frightening warrior was not only on their side but he was also the King who led them to battle. With such a force leading the way, how could they fear anything? They’d fight right beside him, even if it would most certainly lead them straight to the jaws of death.

I’ve got a long way to go…

Edric turned away.

(I wanted a more serious picture but this shit too funny)

Chapter 86: First Sighting

“You’re really putting the wild in wildling, huh.” Edric laughed, looking at the knife. His blood had surged, and his heart pumped with adrenaline as he looked at Val’s wondrous blue eyes. She lowered herself, placing her full bosom against his own chest. 

“Though, what gives you the right to lay claim to a King?”

Edric grabbed Val’s wrist and easily overpowered the wildling, turning himself over her. In mere seconds, he had the dagger over her throat - reversing the situation. With Edric on top, there was scarcely anything she could do.

“If you were man enough, you’d take me here.”

“Uh-huh, you’re playing that card.” Edric laughed, pulling her from the ground as he stood up. “I might be drunk, but I'm not that drunk.”

“What are you so afraid of?” Val questioned, looking into his eyes.

“I'm not afraid of anything.”

“Why do you hesitate, then?”

“I don’t hesitate. I'm just a man of integrity.” 

Val smiled to that. “Only when it suits you.”

“Heh.” Edric chuckled. “You understand so little, wildling. Taking you would be all too easy. I bet I’d shut that pricklish mouth of yours well enough - which is a tempting prospect, I’ll admit.” 

“Do it then. You want to - I can see it in your eyes.”

“My eyes deceive you.” Edric pushed her against the wall, his figure towering over hers. “But, since you’re so stubborn on being claimed, I’ll have you serve me. Kneel.”

He let go, releasing Val and sheathing his dagger.

“So obsessed with kneeling… is that what you’re into?” Val questioned with a slight smile.

“Of course.” Edric played along, grinning. “What better place for a woman than my feet? Besides, you wildlings hate it soooo much. It’s the ultimate seal of your devotion. The surrender of your so-called ‘freedom’.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I won’t be so kind.”

Edric’s expression looked far more serious, his eyes glowing threateningly.

Val bent the knee.

“Are you pleased, Your Grace?”

He smiled.

“Very. I’ll find you something to do… but, for now, enjoy this wonderful chamber.” Edric turned around, yawning on his way out.

…

After finding himself a bed, Edric fell asleep and woke to the Plane of Euthymia.

“Wow… aren’t you beautiful, Raiden?”

“You’re drunk.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Tiny bit.” Edric chuckled, shrugging. “I can’t celebrate, now?”

“Except you’re not celebrating.” She observed, shaking her head. “It seems that something unsettled you, and you’re merely using it to cope.”

“The pains of you watching my every act…” Edric laughed, shaking his head. “You might just know me better than I do.”

“Perhaps I do.” Raiden stepped closer, looking up at him. “You don’t need to pretend in front of me.”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “It has something to do with that prophecy, no?”

“...” Edric sighed. “I suppose that was obvious enough…”

“If I already know, what's the point in avoiding the matter?”

Edric gave her a long look before speaking.

“I didn't think too much of it before, but… knowing that silver cunt, it’s precisely what he intended. He’ll make it so that I have no other choice.” Edric chuckled, turning his back to her. “I don’t want to be Azor Ahai; I never did. I’d sacrifice a billion Mance Rayder’s, but my Nissa Nissa - I don’t think I’d be able to do that.”

“Where did your resolve go - your desire to achieve victory at all costs?”

“What victory would that be?” Edric questioned, looking up at the bleak skies - an ominous mix of crimson and black. “Even if I win, the loss would be too great.”

“Choosing between one person and the world… it should be a simple decision for you. Don’t forget where your priority lies.”

“What sort of hero sacrifices the person he loves most?” Edric questioned.

“It would not be a sacrifice if it were an easy thing to do.” She appeared in front of him, forging a blade and pointing it at his chest. “If you have no other choice in the matter, you must do what is difficult.”

“Even if that sacrifice is you?” Edric grabbed the blade, its great sharpness cutting through his skin.

“Especially if it is me.” Raiden Shogun’s lips curled into a pained smile. “I am nothing to your world, in the end. You have much more to live for than I do. If my sacrifice is what it would take to give you victory… then it would be a fitting end. An atonement for taking the visions of my own people, and taking you down this perilous path.”

“You did not take me down this path, Raiden. You and I know the truth. Who warped reality-”

She placed a finger on his lips.

“It matters not, Edric. What matters is that you keep fighting for the things you love. Once the shadow of the Night King finally lifts from your shoulders, you will surely be free and happy… truly happy.”

“This life of mine truly began with you and will end the same way.” Edric determined, grabbing her hand and removing it. “I don’t care what prophecy is written in the stars, what fate is sealed for me. I am not its tool. I will forge my own destiny with all the strength that I have.”

Edric said, all too passionately.

“And if it's not enough… I'll watch the world freeze to nothing.”

“Then all you did would have been for nothing.” She countered.

“A world without you isn't worth living.”

Edric smiled, looking into her eyes intently as his left hand slid across her cheek.

“You truly are drunk.” Raiden chuckled, stepping back. 

“Oh, but these words come from the heart. You are the person who matters most to me.”

“Edric… don't get any nefarious ideas.”

“I have plenty.” He grinned. “If you want to stop me, then it's just a matter of raising your hand.”

He pulled her against the purple blossom tree and held her head with both hands as he edged closer. Raiden, for all her words, didn't put up much of a fight. He planted a soft kiss across her lips. Once he got the first, it was never quite enough. He'd come for more and more… conquering the lips that begged to be kissed.

“You…”

He slid down one hand, firmly grasping one of her breasts - more than a handful, even for him. All the while, she blushed red, a unique sight for the Shogun.

It was then that she finally gathered the strength to push him away, albeit gently enough not to send him flying.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“You did everything wrong, you fool.” Her face slowly regained its colour. “You're supposed to be training.”

“What better form of training for endurance than trying to keep up with a goddess?” Edric questioned with a cheeky grin.

“Don't make up nonsensical justifications.”

“I thought it was something we both wanted.”

“Perhaps it is… just not like this.”

In a flash, she struck his chest and knocked Edric out cold.

~

[Edric’s POV, 1st]

When I woke up, I immediately realised I had been up to no good.

“Memory’s a bit fuzzy… did I do something ill-advised?”

“Not in this world.” 

“... Oh.” I stroked my chin, trying to piece it all together. Though, I couldn’t recall a thing. Knowing my drunk self’s indulgent past, I made an educated guess and raised my hand - making a groping gesture.

“... So you do remember.”

“Actually, I don’t.” I smiled slightly, shaking my head. Oh, I knew I’d die at least a thousand times tonight. I was finished. “Can I dig the grave first?”

“It’s already been dug.” She coldly replied.

“Ahah…” I laughed nervously. “Is it too late to say sorry?”

“... You’re fortunate to be who you are.” 

“Too fortunate.” 

I pushed my hair back and got out of bed. It was cold under the sheets, but the chill that struck me once I left them was much greater. I swiftly got dressed, donning the bear fur cloak over my garments. With the cloak, I felt some form of warmth at last.

I recalled giving Jon my permission to free Ygritte, though I never had the honour of seeing the woman who made him forget his honour. Her survival might just make matters more difficult for him as he’d be fighting the vows of the Night’s Watch against his love for her. More than likely, he would not be voted as Lord Commander… which is not my preferred outcome. 

I sat at the head of the table, breaking my fast as I pondered this matter. Then, in the corner of my eye, I saw Jon chatting with Ygritte. She looked… alright.

“I don’t see what’s so special about her,” Arya spoke my thoughts.

“A sense of humour goes a long way,” I remarked, shrugging my shoulders. “In some ways, I envy him… in others, not so much. I was in a similar position once.”

“I hope he makes the right choice.”

“And which would that be?” I questioned.

“His oath, obviously. Even if you pardoned him, the Wall is a long way from King’s Landing. The wildlings might have bent the knee to you, but that doesn’t mean the Night’s Watch likes any of them. If he keeps her close…”

“An astute observation.” I nodded. “Except, the black brothers are all made of flesh and blood. Whether they do it under broad daylight or under the veil of the night - it matters not. If every man of the Night’s Watch who broke his vows were to be hanged, the Wall would only be guarded by ghosts. Still… I see your point. It’s not a good look and actively draws him away from his black brothers. As of now, he is trapped between love and duty.”

I smiled, finishing off my food.

“It’s why I don’t envy him.”

…

Due to Mance Rayder previously dividing his forces and focusing on the east, I had no choice but to ride there with a couple hundred riders. The rest of the army I left to Robb Stark, who'd be holding down the fort in my absence. While I doubted that the wildlings would rebel, I couldn't be too certain. 

We rode long and hard… (pause)... reaching Eastwatch-By-The-Sea within only a couple days. It was there that I would see something more than just black brothers and wildlings. 

~

The wildlings had been trying to take the castle for weeks, meeting great resistance. They tried to pass by boats, only to be shot down by arrows or crushed by the Night's Watch’s far larger and more impressive vessels. They tried climbing the Wall, only to meet a rain of ice and arrows. They even tried to force the gate. The wildlings had thousands with the tenacity to match their numbers… while Eastwatch’s garrison originally numbered less than two hundred - which was on the verge of being less than a hundred. 

Some wildlings had managed to row over to land, making an attempt to take the castle only to be met with fierce resistance.

Then… Edric came like the wind.

His cavalry thundered across the land, sweeping the wildlings in one charge. The waters grew even more treacherous and violent, crashing against the wildling boats and sinking them one after the other. In hardly any time whatsoever, Edric’s forces devastated the wildling invaders. The vessels under the Night’s Watch returned to the coast, led by their commander.

“Is that the bloody King, I see?” Cotter Pyke observed, looking up Edric, who remained mounted. “You have our thanks, Your Grace. These wildlings were buggering us long enough.”

“I take it that was not all of them?” Edric looked to the Wall.

“I wish. There’s plenty of them on the other side.”

“Then we shall storm them. Open the gate.”

“A king of action.” Cotter Pyke remarked with a slight smile. “The gate will be opened right away.”

With Eastwatch’s gate opened, Edric led his cavalry against over a thousand wildlings - routing them in what was almost a blink. One second, they were fighting - the next, they were scattering north. Edric halted his forces, feeling strange as the wildlings disappeared into the woods. Normally, he’d press the charge and finish them off… but something was not right.

He began to hear screams and sounds entirely foreign to him.

Within minutes, wildlings were rushing right back south.

Are they running from… them?

Edric felt colder than he had before. 

He stored away his warhammer and dismounted, drawing out his dragonbone longbow from his chest. His eyes focused on the woods, not seeing much other than the fleeing wildlings. He turned to his falcon, possessing it and flying into the forest.

Soon, all sounds had died down. There was only silence. The wildlings who sprinted away in terror had begun going west, avoiding Edric’s riders. His men looked with unease. What in Seven Hells was so frightening that they’d turn back and risk being ridden down?

Then… the Others came.

One after the other, until there were seven.

~

P.S

Sorry for the ASS update speed; I've been busy with other things. I'll try my best to make up for it.

God Of Forges Chapter 7: Jewmaxxing

A couple of days would pass…

As Xiao Jian walked through the hallways and corridors of the Xiao Clan, his appearance split crowds like Moses split the Red Sea. The younger clansmen wanted no part of him after what had happened to Xiao Ning. ‘Cripple’ or not, he absolutely manhandled the most talented Xiao Clan member in his generation… minus Xun’er. 

Before he could quite leave, he was met with the head elder at the clan’s exit.

“Pardon me, head elder, I’m doing a little shopping-”

As he tried to walk past, the elder body blocked him.

Xiao Jian looked down with a slight frown. Though he towered over the elder, the strength difference was like heaven and earth. The head elder was only second to his father and a distinguished Dou Master in the Wu Tan City, after all, while Xiao Jian was still a 5-star Dou Disciple.

“You are not leaving the clan’s premises until you answer for what you did to my grandson.”

“... And how should I answer for it?” Xiao Jian questioned with a patient tone.

“Hmph, you broke his wrist yet speak so casually of it?”

“We got into a fight, I got hurt, he got hurt… shit happened.” Xiao Jian shrugged nonachalantly. “I got a good number of bruises from him. Should I go cry to my father too?” 

“...” The head elder frowned. “You-”

“Head elder, is there a problem?” Xiao Zhan walked up from behind the head elder.

“Yes, you know full well. Xiao Jian went too far!”

“It was a duel - one that they mutually accepted. You know that plenty worse things can happen than a broken wrist or a couple of bruises in such cases. We should consider what happened to be fortunate.” 

Xiao Zhan looked perfectly calm, masking his overwhelming pride in his son. In a single fight, he had silenced every elder and youth in his generation all at once.

“...”

Truth be told, the head elder had no grounds to deny the Clan Leader’s wishes. In this case, he was entirely right. 

“From what I hear, your grandson was also the main aggressor in said duel… perhaps he learnt that his actions have consequences that day.”

“...”

With a ‘hmph’, the head elder turned away. Xiao Zhan briefly showed a look of displeasure. Lecture and discipline my son… he does he think he is?

Afterwards, Xiao Zhan turned to Xiao Jian.

“Going shopping, hm?”

“Yeah.” Xiao Jian’s smile brimmed with confidence. “The words I spoke weren’t just words full of air. I’m going to make gold out of them.”

“... Eh.” Xiao Zhan chuckled warmly as he observed his son’s aura. Yes, this was the Xiao Jian that once shook the Jia Ma Empire. “You’ve already made me proud enough, Jian’er. No one can call you a cripple when you’ve beaten the best of your generation.”

“That’s not enough…”

Xiao Jian shook his head with a look of determination, walking past his father.

“...”

Xiao Zhan smiled.

‘He’s going to do it again, isn’t he?’

~

In three months, Xiao Jian would swiftly advance to Dou Disciple 9 by abusing the Foundation Elixir four times over. Being on the verge of Dou Practitioner, Yao Lao gave him a new set of ingredients to gather for the Qi Gathering Pill… and they, to his dismay, were out of reach for his current funds.

“Haaah, you're too poor.” Yao Lao shook his head. “How unfortunate.”

“Not my fault the ingredients cost a mountain of gold.” Xiao Jian rolled his eyes.

“Blacksmith money is too shallow, after all…” Yao Lao chuckled. 

“What if… you made some pills and I auctioned them off?”

 “Hmmmmmmmm…” Yao Lao stroked his chin. “Yes, I could do that. One condition, however. You must pay your long overdue respects to your master.”

“... Sure.”

He decided to swallow his pride and rely on Yao Lao’s alchemy to make some money. His growth up to this point had been dramatic, and Xiao Jian had no intention of stopping. 

He dutifully cupped his hands and lowered his head.

“Disciple Xiao Jian greets Master.”

“... Huh. This is a strange sight, indeed.” Yao Lao smiled slightly. “Very well, I shall officially be your master from this day forward.”

…

Using a good portion portion of his remaining savings, he bought enough ingredients for ten inferior Foundation Elixirs and put Yao Lao to work. Afterwards, he rubbed his hands. 

“You won't use any disguises?” Yao Lao questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Why should I? Besides, even if I did…” Xiao Jian looked at his feet and back at Yao Lao. “Don't you think my height and skin are a little too recognizable?

“... You are one distinguished kid.” Yao Lao nodded in acknowledgement. “Ah, how troublesome. Couldn't you be a bit shorter?”

“I'll just tell them my master made it and was too lazy to auction it himself.”

“Playing the part of errands boy, eh?” Yao Lao chuckled. “It could work, I suppose.”

…

And so, he got a bag full of elixirs and went his way to the Premier Auction House. Knowing the routine, he went across the lavish hall and straight to the Inspection Room. It was empty for once, with a bored man looking half asleep within. Upon Xiao Jian’s thundering steps, he woke all too suddenly with a disgruntled expression that soon turned into a more professional smile.

Xiao Jian had been somewhat of a regular four to five years ago as he used the Premier Auction House to sell off his finer, unwanted, crafted goods for gold. Alas, with the loss of his abilities as Dou Practitioner, he had also lost a great deal of his smithing prowess.

“Ah, if it isn’t Xiao Jian. It's been quite a while. What pretty-looking ceremonial weapon do you have for us today?”

It was somewhat of a back-handed compliment, though entirely true. Xiao Jian could work the most brilliant of weapons… in terms of appearance, but not ability! The opposite of what he had been doing years ago. This was simply because he couldn’t make such weapons anymore, so he did what he could…

“Nothing ceremonial today.” Xiao Jian smiled regardless, lifting up his bag and lightly placing it on the table. “Ten Foundation Elixirs.”

“Eh…” The middleaged man chuckled. “Xiao Jian, putting some ingredients together and mixing them doesn’t make an elixir.”

“I wasn’t the one who made them.” Xiao Jian shook his head. “My master did.”

“...?” The middle-aged man gave the elixirs a second look, grabbing one and sniffing the jade bottle. With that, he could tell that it was a genuine elixir. “I did not know you had an alchemist for a master.”

“I met him not that long ago.” Xiao Jian smiled. “He seems to be pretty good at it. Anyway, he made these and was too lazy to auction them himself… so I’m here.”

“Do you know the effects of this elixir?”

“It helps increase Dou Qi training speed without any side effects because the medicinal power is extremely peaceful.” Xiao Jian spoke almost as if he were Yao Lao himself.

Having abused the hell out of those things, he knew almost as much as Yao Lao did, after all.

“Could you wait for a short while? I need to ask our auction’s alchemist to inspect this Elixir.”

“Sure…”

Xiao Jian watched him walk off at a decently hurried pace. He waited for a short while before the middleaged man returned with a green robed elder with whitening hair. Gu Ni observed Xiao Jian with a slight smile before inspecting the Elixir. He lightly opened its tip, landing a small drop of green liquid at the centre of his palm. 

He stared at the liquid before inspecting it further with a silver needle, which showed a slight Dou Qi fluctuation. It slipped into the green liquid and slowly stirred.

His calm face slowly changed into a more serious one as the needle continued to stir. Afterwards, he put the green liquid back into the jade bottle.

 ‘The customer gets to enjoy a bit of Gu Ni’s palm with that Elixir.’ Xiao Jian thought to himself.

“The elixir is at a second tier… everything that was said before is true!” Gu Ni turned to Xiao Jian. “If I may ask, what tier is your master?”

“Dunno.” Xiao Jian shrugged. “He likes to be all mysterious.”

“Hm… it is not unusual for an alchemist. I take it you plan on auctioning these elixirs for him?”

“Mhm, all of them. He’s looking for some quick gold to buy some items to make a Qi Gathering Pill.”

“... Make a Qi Gathering Pill?” Gu Ni’s expression changed. To make a Qi Gathering Pill, one would need to be a tier 4 Alchemist or above… which there were only twenty of at most in the entire Jia Ma Empire.

“Mhm.” Xiao Jian nodded like it wasn’t anything special. “Do you think these elixirs will be enough?”

“Yes… it will do.” Gu Ni nodded firmly. “I would estimate that you could make enough for three to four set of ingredients, depending on how swiftly you want the elixirs auctioned off. The more time we have to publicise the auction, the better the gains will be.”

“Eh… I don’t think it matters too much. As long as I can get enough ingredients for two Qi Gathering Pills, my master will be more than happy. Er… just don’t mention me as the source.”

“Very well. I will see what I can do.”

 The elixirs were immediately auctioned off, with the three great clans of the Wu Tan City fighting over them quite relentlessly. The talent of their young generation would affect their future, after all. Xiao Zhang was especially fierce, spending more than he should have on several occasions. Though, just as cunningly, he made his rivals pay extra by raising the price.

In the end, all ten elixirs sold for 300,000 gold… which was enough to get high-grade ingredients for the Qi Opening Pill five times over. Immediately after, he used the gold to exchange it for them. Ya Fei acted especially sweet and alluring on this occasion.

“I hope your master would honour us with a personal visit next time.”

“Oh, he’s a pretty busy guy. More so lazy, really.” Xiao Jian chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway, thank you for supplying me. It’s way easier than having to go shopping around in the markets.”

(Yao Lao: Stop calling me lazy, brat.)

“Come back if you or your master need anything else.”

“I will.”

Xiao Jian nodded, turning away and rubbing his hands.

“What are you plotting?” Yao Lao blinked as his disciple almost looked evil for a moment. Evil with endless greed!

‘I’ll never be too poor to buy ingredients again…’

Xiao Jian thought to himself, smirking slightly.

…

At midnight, when the Xiao Clan slept, Xiao Jian sat in his room and watched Yao Lao produce Qi Gathering Pills. Being of a far higher grade than the Foundation Elixir, it took some more effort… yet nothing too strenuous. Yao Lao looked like he was taking a casual walk to the park, except instead of walking he was cooking.

Eventually, he made all five…

“Hehehe.” Xiao Jian laughed, grabbing one and looking at it. “How much would one of these fetch in an auction?”

“... Who’s the shameless leech now?” Yao Lao could only chuckle, shaking his head. 

“I’ve still not caught up to my old self… nevermind where I would be without you taking my qi away.” Xiao Jian scoffed, crossing his arms.

“Mhm… anyway, you’d make more than enough, I’d assume. Gold is quite worthless for even a mediocre alchemist.”

“Small wonder why!” Xiao Jian exclaimed. “You wave your fire around for a night, and you’d make enough gold to buy the entire city.”

“It looks easy and simple because of my ability.” Yao Lao remarked. “For you… heh, you’ll see. Before that, however, you still have to become a Dou Practitioner.”

“Well, then.”

He grabbed one pill and swallowed it.

“Time to become one.”

“Heh, you’ll be eating those like candy soon enough…”

Yao Lao mused.

~

The month before the Coming of Age Ceremony.

All participants would have to test their Dou Qi, weeding out those whose Dou Qi wasn’t high enough to be inner clan members in the future. The requirement was the seventh stage of Dou Disciple, which was met by most of the clan’s prominent youths. The most shocking of the group was Xiao Xun’er, who broke into Dou Practitioner… while Xiao Ning made an advancement to the peak of Dou Disciple. 

One person was missing, however.

“Where is the third young master?” The third elder questioned with furrowed brows.

“That boy thinks he’s above the law.” The head elder scoffed. “He never fails to be late for such events…”

“Is he trying to save the embarrassment of failing?” The second elder mused. “Heh, it would not be unlike him. Maybe he ran off and left the Clan alltogther… you never know with that… boy.”

“Have some patience.” Xiao Zhan sighed, observing the field of awaiting youths. They had all been assessed by now and were just waiting for him.

“... What’s that… up in the sky?”

“An eagle…”

“No, it’s a person with eagle wings!”

A large figure with a colossal set of mechanised majestic gold-red eagle wings soared through the skies. These wings had been forged with a myriad of level three attribute wind cores, channelling energy in the direction of its master’s will. This figure swiftly descended onto the ground, the winds greeting a mighty gust of wind. His landing created a crack in the ground.

He shrugged off the wings and, with a press of a button, the wings contracted to a much smaller object. He then tossed it inside one of his many storage rings.

The elders were gobsmacked… never mind the youths. Their jaws had hit the ground.

What absurd creation had he forged? And all those storage rings - he was wearing one on each finger!

Xiao Zhan smiled with a look of pride. He knew damn well his son wasn’t going to fail to qualify… as the elders had suggested. Meanwhile, Xiao Xun’er was the least surprised of them all - her face lighting up with a smile at his appearance.

Xiao Jian smiled as bright as the sun.

“Sorry for being late and making everyone wait. I was just making a few last-minute touches."

Raiden's Storm Chapter 85: Prophecy

[Edric’s POV]

Edric would have a couple of drinks, easing the tensions between his two armies with his charisma. He was the bridge that united them all in the first place, after all.

“The bloody bear thought he could wrestle me!” He laughed, shaking his head in a filled hall. “It came from behind right as I turned to it, daringly attempting to mark my handsome face. Can anyone spot a scar, hm?”

“Not a scratch on that pretty face!” Jon Umber’s laughter echoed across the hall. "Except for the wildling princess, who did more than any of them!"

“He moved his head like this.” Rickard Karstark replicated Edric’s head movement with some exaggeration, looking like he was a boxer performing rope-a-dope. “You have to see it to believe it!”

“That wasn't all of it, no.” Jon Umber added, telling Edric’s tale himself. “He grabbed the damned thing and lifted it off him like some small dog… throwing it fifty paces away! When the bear touched land again, it went in the opposite direction, only to be dragged right back in by the wind! When it saw Edric up close again, and the forest so far away, the bear shat itself in fear!”

‘A slight exaggeration.’ Edric thought to himself, chuckling. ‘It was more like fifteen.’

Yet his men believed it entirely as the hall burst into laughter and cheering.

“Its rider had been a skinchanger.” Edric intercepted as everyone quieted down. “The bastard thought I was one of his wolves, someone he could possess. When he entered my mind, I saw him right there. The audacity!”

“Like a dream, I grabbed my warhammer… and what proceeded was a culmination of all beatings he missed from his father.” Edric grabbed his Warhammer, bending the truth as he ‘recreated’ the scene. “I smashed the same knees who refused to bend, somehow made his face uglier, broke his arms, crushed what little cock he had and finished him off with a smash to the head that would make Lord Tywin’s finishing blow look gentle!”

There was laughter once more, the northerners being louder than the wildlings. The night continued on, with Edric charming his new leaders further without fail. They worshipped his strength but, more than that, found love for his leadership and lively heart. Yes, he was a King, yet he was just as much of a grounded person who understood and related to the people beneath him.

Once they knelt and proved themselves, he treated them as one of his own.

This sense of trust seemed to strength their own.

“A most worthy King for the Realm and free folk!” Gerrick Redbeard drank in Edric’s name. “A King for all folk!”

“A King for all folk!”

His men and plenty of others reinforced the chant.

“You’ve won them over a little too easily,” Robb remarked, standing beside Edric. “From what I know, there are at least fifty thousand of them. Where do you plan to have them?”

“Spread out. Some will move south, some will join my personal army, and others will join the Night’s Watch - help repair and reinforce the castle ruins. We have nineteen castles, and only three of them are armed while the rest are ruins. How will we be ready for Winter with so little of the Wall being properly defended?” Edric questioned, shaking his head. “We will need countless glass houses, too, and every bit of fertile land put to use. Enough to feed every man should winter last.”

“It will not be an easy thing to arrange.” Edric smiled reassuringly. “Alas, that is the path I chose. If it works, we have a proper Night’s Watch and a surplus of fighting men to use. If not… then I will have to put down a few wildling rebellions. Things like this carry risks and rewards. The risk is, somewhat minor, considering their lesser strength when divided while the reward is something I consider worthwhile.”

“You are the King.” Robb reaffirmed. “Once you make a decision, I can only accept it.”

“Though… that also means I bear all the weight of responsibility.” Edric chuckled. “By the sound of things, you don’t trust them?”

“Of course not, Your Grace. The wildlings might follow you - but what of the people you put them under? Will they respect your decisions enough to let another man command them?”

“I’ll make sure they do,” Edric spoke with a threatening tone.

“... Facing you must be a true fright,” Robb admitted, shaking his head. "Sometimes I think to myself how glad I am that we are on the same side."

“Funny thing about that - it all could’ve been different if I took up Cersei’s offer.”

“Eh?” Robb raised an eyebrow. “What’s all that about?”

“She wanted to reign me in with her charms after I was legitimised.” Edric laughed, shaking his head. “Imagine me as Joffrey’s stalwart right hand! Hahaha…”

“The Lannisters are something else entirely.” Robb mused. “She was more than old enough to be your mother and the queen to your father...”

“... That was the principle. Cersei thought she could fill that motherly gap… among other things. Perhaps she thought I could be the better Robert to her, even.”

Robb’s facial expression mirrored his bewilderment. After a few seconds, he just laughed it off.

“Cersei was one foul creature!"

“Aye…” Edric nodded. “Passion and desire are a woman’s greatest weapons. The mightiest of men can crumble to such things, their discipline and clarity passing like leaves in the wind.”

“Speaking of the mightiest of men falling for a woman’s temptations…” Robb cleared his throat, turning to Edric.

‘The irony is not lost on me, Robby Stark.’ Edric thought to himself. ‘Your parallel self sold an entire war, but you wouldn’t know that…’

“Pointing a finger at me?” Edric tilted his head slightly.

“My father, a man of the highest honour, as you know… did have a bastard himself. He was married to my mother for a year then, and it was considered rather ordinary. The only stain on his honour, yet nothing people hung his head over.”

“Who broke the news to you?” Edric questioned.

“A certain dwarf who likes to talk.” Robb smiled slightly.

“Ah…” Edric chuckled, shaking his head. “Name me one Lannister who doesn’t like the sound of their own voice. I thought it would be Arya, honest and blunt as she can be.”

“She is doubtlessly loyal to you, it seems. I don’t know what you did to tame her.” Robb Stark chuckled. “Your luck with girls and women is quite extraordinary. Even that wildling princess looked interested.”

“I have too much of it, I’m afraid, and it’s not getting any worse.” Edric laughed. “One day, Arya will be fending off half the Realm.”

“Regardless, I won’t hold it against you. Lady Margaery is considered pretty by some and beautiful by most. She is rather elegant and sweet… on the outside, at least. I do not know what to think of her after she slipped into your bed while you were too drunk to think.”

“Even if you don’t, I will.” Edric shook his head. “It was… a mistake. Something that shouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s one of the few faults I can find in you.” Robb patted his shoulder. “Should all men be faultless?”

“... No.”

“You are too harsh on yourself at times. The weight of being a great, flawless and ideal King might just crush you… mayhaps it did when you made that fault.” Robb Stark’s blue eyes observed him. “When you were drunk, you might’ve sought some comfort, away from your duty, all the constant battles you’ve fought in and the pressure of leading Seven Kingdoms at so young an age. Never mind a Seven Kingdoms that was once in rebellion… you crushed the Lannisters, Greyjoys, put down all those mountain clans and brought the Vale back into the fold - almost singlehandedly. In how short a time did you bring the Realm together?”

“I didn’t think you’d be so understanding in this matter,” Edric remarked, shaking his head. “Even so-”

“I don’t want to hear you making excuses to put yourself down. We are to be brothers, after all.” Robb Stark crossed his arms. “The worst of it is that you might get a bastard out of it… so what? Jon Snow is my bastard brother, and I love him just as much as the rest. It might be the same for your children.”

“That is the best that can happen.” Edric nodded.

“Our fathers arranged your betrothal and… admittedly, my sister was definitely not as alluring as Margaery."

“Well…”

“You don’t need to lie to me. The truth is plain enough.” Robb Stark smiled. “Even so, it seems that you’re all the more closer because of it. If Arya is cheery, what reason have I to be troubled? In the end, Arya will be queen and the mother of your legitimate children, while all Margaery will have is a bastard of yours.”

“Mhm…” Edric smiled, nodding.

“Funnily enough, my brother is in that tent as well. Except - he fell for a wildling who looks to be just like any other.” Robb looked at Jon in the distance. “While you weren’t married or held to any oaths, he broke his. I shielded him until now, but… the judgement is yours to make. You hold all the power.”

“And which part of that oath did he break?” Edric grinned slightly. “Throughout his time with the wildlings, he acted in the interest in the Night’s Watch. He roused Castle Black, where the wildlings might’ve caught them unaware. He fought alongside his brothers on the Wall for days on end…”

“I shall father no children, which suggests…” Robb knew what he would say, smiling slightly.

“And did he father any children?”

“Not at all.”

“There we go.” Edric smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “What must I punish, exactly, Robb? Him getting captured?”

Robb chuckled. “No.”

“Whatever sin the Night’s Watch believes he committed, consider it pardoned.” 

…

Edric, while travelling about, found Melisandre atop the Wall.

“On a late-night run?” Melisandre questioned.

“I wanted some fresh air,” Edric replied, shrugging his shoulders. “So many thousands of loud wildlings… it can be rather suffocating in such small halls. Regardless, what are you doing here? Staring into the void?”

“On this Wall, I feel stronger than I’ve ever been,” Melisandre remarked. “An ancient magic reinforces this Wall… great spells locked beneath all the ice. We walk beneath one of the hinges of the world.”

“Hm…” Edric looked ahead, his hair swaying freely. “My magic was stronger in Storm’s End.”

“You were wise to keep Mance Rayder alive.”

“Was I? I left him more so as a living reminder of those who would defy me.”

“He has kingsblood, and so does his newborn son. It is a precious resource, Your Grace. One that R’hllor favours greatly.”

“For sacrifices?” Edric raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, sacrifices… that is their fate. To be sacrificed at the ripe moment so that the Lord of Light would favour you.”

“I thought I was Azor Ahai reborn, the ‘Son of Fire’ - why must I make sacrifices to him for his blessings?”

“Such is the way, Your Grace. A hero’s path is riddled with sacrifice, and your destiny is to be the greatest of them all.” Melisandre looked on, looking completely unaffected by the cold. “Do you know the story of how Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, the blade that Azor Ahai wielded to triumph over the darkness?”

“Yes, I know all too well.” Edric nodded, feeling a sudden heaviness in his heart. ‘That can’t be my fate…’

“For you are Azor Ahai come again, there will be another who will play the role of Nissa Nissa… or all will fall,” Melisandre explained what Edric already knew - reinforcing the idea. “Only a Lightbringer tempered by the soul of your truest love can triumph over the darkness.”

“... Is that so?” Edric frowned, turning away. “What else must I sacrifice, my unborn child? She would have kingsblood, too - no? My bastard siblings?”

“Mayhaps the time will come…”

“Hmph.”

Damn all the gods and their sacrifices. Why don't you sacrifice yourselves for once?

Edric walked away with a disgruntled mind. 

Sacrifice your sheep for a good harvest, sacrifice your wealth for a blessing, sacrifice your children to appease the gods, sacrifice royalty for ‘favour’ with a God whose nemesis you’re already fighting… and sacrifice your ‘truest love’ for a shiny sword to fight his battles with. Where gods exist, so do offerings and sacrifices…

Does R’hllor not seek victory? Are those sacrifices necessary because he’s fucking useless, or is it just a matter of divine pride…

Edric thought of the Transcendent Being.

All the gods simply look down, revelling in mortal tribulations and struggles. 

They stand above all else, after all… why would they lower themselves?

He returned to Castle Black, drinking far more than he originally wanted.

And they call me a God… hah! I wouldn’t even be here freezing my balls off if that were so.

…

“Your Grace…” Loras came to Edric, surrounded by chasing wildling women. “Help me be rid of these hags. Tell them to leave.”

“You’re having trouble?” Edric turned to him, wine in hand. He sipped with amusement. “Since when did the Knight of Flowers have trouble with the ladies?”

“I…”

“Look at those brown curls; they’re so soft, messy, like rings o’ hair…”

One of the women, nearly as tall as Brienne, stroked his hair.

“His eyes are too pretty, lively and shiny… like gold. And his skin… so smooth…”

Another touched his face.

“Get off me!” Loras turned away, stepping behind Edric while the King looked all too amused by this.

Just as he made it behind his cover, a woman came from behind to touch his arm.

“Such firm arms for a slender figure… and a pretty face you’d never find north o’ the Wall. Hehe, I’m claiming him for myself!”

Loras looked at Edric, his eyes pleading for help. He was surrounded and had no way of defending himself. 

“No way!” One of the free folk women who had been chasing him all along objected to that declaration. “I found him first!”

“No, I did!”

“Fight me for him, then!”

“As long as you don’t fuck him, do whatever.” Edric laughed deviously. “He has his oath of chastity, after all.”

“... Your Grace-”

“A fun little punishment for the stunt you pulled beforehand.” 

Edric proceeded to drink his wine, laughing as Loras did his best to avoid the massive, ever-growing horde of free folk women who desired him. Down south, he had already been touted as exceptionally handsome and even the most beautiful by some - depending on taste. Compared to the ungroomed and far less appealing men North of the Wall… well, he’d be a bloody god of beauty!

Edric definitely had his fair share of fun that night at Loras' expense.

…

After partying some more, Edric stumbled upon Val’s prison after he heard something about a black brother being mortally wounded. It was a simple chamber, Castle Black's closest thing to a house arrest. 

She looked all the more beautiful today, her blonde hair radiantly shining under the moonlight with the colour of honey. It was neatly braided to one shoulder, over one side of her full bosom, which was more than a handful. Paired with that, her slender physique made her all the more desirable… she possessed the kind of beauty that could turn heads in any court in the world. 

A beauty that would possess men to forget themselves, even without so much as a smile.

“I heard there was some trouble.”

“One of your modest crows tried to force himself on me… so I gelded him with his own knife. Keeping his vows will be much easier now.”

“... Ah.” Edric chuckled. “I can’t blame him tooo much; the pretty women around these parts… well, there aren’t any. I sincerely doubt Mole’s Town has anyone who looks near as good as you.”

“You seem to have drunk your fair share.”

“Aye… I am the soul of this party, after all!” Edric laughed. “The King of both worlds, so it seems. Anyway-  have you reconsidered your stance by now?” 

“I wish to know of your plans first.”

“Well, considering this great change, marriage is the easiest way to form lasting alliances and seal the peace.” Edric suddenly looked more serious. “I’d like to incorporate the major leaders with nobility, either by marrying off their daughters to highborn or the other way around. You’re in that list of notable figures… being the old king’s sister-by-law. The wildlings respect you, and even my own men believe you to be a ‘wildling princess’ of sorts-”

“If you wish to wed me to any of your lords, know that I will geld them all the same when they try to touch me.”

“... How cold and stubborn, you must’ve learned a thing or two from Mance - or was it the other way around?” Edric laughed, shaking his head. “Are you saying that you are above every one of my lords? Even my lords paramount or their heirs? I have many fitting bachelors who are more than worthy-.”

“I already belong to another.”

“Who?” Edric scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Some other, nameless, wildling warrior? Oh, please… ”

“A King.”

She answered.

“...” Edric’s mocking expression changed as soon as she realised what she meant. He broke into laughter. “Hahaha… since when?”

“It wasn’t all that long ago - I would have hoped that you’d remember stealing me. In free folk traditions, we are married, and unless another man defeats you and does the same… it will remain so.”

“Wildlings truly have some barbaric traditions.” Edric shook his head. “Though, your traditions mean nothing south of the Wall. You are nothing more than a prisoner of war - I do not claim you.”

Before he knew it, Val pulled his arm down with the strength of both of hers. Being drunk and imbalanced, Edric came tumbling down on his back like a giant. She then drew out his knife and moved it to his neck. 

“If you do not claim me… then I will claim you.”

Edric’s lips curled into a humoured smile at Val’s ‘ultimatum’.

Raiden's Storm Chapter 84: Reverse Situation

[3rd]

“Why did you wish to parley, then?” Edric looked Mance Rayder dead in the eyes. “You thought I'd open my gates to you out of kindness and let your unruly kind run free - doing whatever they wish in my lands?”

“The Others.” Mance Rayder spoke.”We have a common enemy and killing us will mean less men to stand against them. Living down south, you wouldn't know about them, would you?”

“Oh, I know plenty. More than any of you.” Edric shook his head. “That is why I am willing to accept your kind if you kneel.”

“You are not a good listener. As I said-”

“What is stranger, a wildling who kneels or a king who lets them pass the Wall?” Edric tilted his head slightly, interrupting Mance. “I don't have to do any of this, you see. I could just as easily slaughter all of you and burn the bodies. I'd have far less trouble that way…”

“...” Mance Rayder knew it wasn't just a threat. 

“Indeed, that would be better.” Edric grinned, doubling down as Mance remained silent. “You wildlings make for good practice, after all. However, as a King of reason, I believe there is some worth in your people.”

“So… will you kneel?”

“Even if I did, that would not mean much.” Mance Rayder shook his head. “Each man would make his own choice. As their king, I stand for their principles. If they do not kneel… why should I?”

“Such bone-headed stubbornness.” Edric’s eyes flashed purple. “Remind me, what do wildlings follow? What unites them under you?”

“Freefolk, do not care about who your grandsire was, what your name means, and what little animal you carry on your cloak. They won't dance for coins; they don't care how you wish to be addressed or what all your titles mean. They follow strength. They follow the man.”

“You're talking my language, for once.”

Edric found reason to smile slightly, drawing his Warhammer from his chest through the Plane of Euthymia. There was a joint sound of confusion amongst the wildlings. He proceeded to rest it on his shoulder. The wildlings once again raised their weapons in preparation.

“If they follow strength, then why don't we fight?” Edric stepped forward, towering over Mance. “It would save everyone the trouble.”

“I am no fool.” Mance retreated a step.

“I beg to differ. You're a coward, a fool and a pigheaded king. What sort of king denies his people salvation - denies them protection from the very thing they fear so much? Your pride and idiocy alone shouldn't doom thousands of people…” 

He lowered his Warhammer, pointing it from one side of the wildling group to the other.

“That is why I'm giving them a choice - rather than you. A choice to kneel under my might or have their knees crushed in denial. That is what their so-called freedom amounts to… this choice!”

“If any of the free folk wish to kneel to you, they are free to do so.” Mance turned back. “Who will it be - will anyone kneel to this King and abandon their freedom?”

The wildlings looked at each other with uncertainty. 

“I will!” One of them said, stepping forward. “I’m not a man who ever knelt to nobody, not you, not no other freefolk. But this King… he is no ordinary man. He commands the lightning from the skies. Bloody nature kneels to him, and you want to tell me I shouldn't? I’m not an idiot. This is not a man, this is a God, and I’m dying trying to fight him!”

“Kneeler.” One of them scoffed, moving in to attack him.

BANG.

Edric narrowed his gaze and a bolt of lightning struck down the assailant in an instant. The man who decided to kneel looked only more determined, running over to Edric’s side and kneeling - almost too quickly. 

“You have my axe, King.” He put his weapon to the ground. “I only follow the strongest… and you are mightier than any man who is alive today.”

It was only a matter of the first turning to Edric before more and more joined him. In mere moments, Mance’s guard halved before halving again and then some. Now, he only had four men - which included Val and himself. Really, he only had two men.

“What is your name?” Edric mused, turning to the wildling who knelt first.

“Gerrick Kingsblood, my King.” 

“You are brave and have some wit. I will be paying attention to you.”

Edric smiled slightly. He was braver than any of the wildlings that came after him, that was for sure. The peer pressure to stand his ground was great beyond measure. He was the one to break the floodgates, allowing everyone else to follow.

“A bit of knee-bending to follow someone like you is a small price to pay.”

“All of you who kneel, feel free to rise.” Edric shrugged his shoulders. “You are just as free to stay kneeling, however.”

Some of them laughed, Gerrick being the loudest amongst them. Mance Rayder furrowed his brows. These weren't just his ‘guards’, they were chieftains and leaders of the warbands under him. The fact that a majority had knelt to him…

“So, the rest of you stand against me?” Edric observed his opposition. Mance Rayder, Val, Soren Shieldbreaker and Varamyr Sixskins. Varamyr was accompanied by three wolves, a shadowcat and a large snow bear - which he actively rode. 

“So many of you are quick to abandon our traditions.” The small Varamyr scoffed. “You would rather live your lives kneeling and following laws you do not agree with than fight. Cowards - all of you!”

“A land where you can’t force yourself on any woman that you fancy.” Gerrick Kingsblood chuckled. “Must be terrible for you, Varamyr, for no woman would come to your bed willingly.”

“You are a greater leader than I ever expected.” Mance Rayder spoke with a tone of acknowledgement, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. Once he opened them, his lips curled into a slight smile. “So swiftly, you’ve taken most of my army. Your father would’ve been proud.”

“He had a habit of making friends from enemies,” Edric remarked, shrugging his shoulders. “Let’s not waste further time, Mance. This parley is over. Your men have made their choice.”

“... Is that so?”

“Yes… it’s time you showed me your strength.”

Edric glanced back.

“If there were any doubts about my strength before, I’ll show you all today, here and now. I’ll fight all four of them - and the animals - by myself. First, I’ll break the unbending king’s knees; then snap the tall one’s neck; after that, I’ll drag that dwarf off his bear and choke him out with one hand…”

Varamyr struck first, while Edric had his back turned. He led an attack with his snow bear, three wolves and shadowcat. Edric nonchalantly waved his right hand, and a strong gust of wind took all six of them twenty metres west. He gave his warhammer a twirl with the left, looking at Soren with his great axe and Mance Rayder, who had drawn his sword.

He deflected Soren, who came in first with a downward swing. He countered with a blow to the ribcage before pushing him off to the side as if he were a second thought. 

Then he dashed towards Mance, deflecting his sword swing with ease and smacking the sword out of his hand with one warhammer strike. With a cracked right hand, Mance couldn’t resist as Edric smashed down at his right knee. He fell to his knees while Edric grinned slightly.

“Looks like you can kneel.”

All the while, Varamyr’s eagle soared for his head. Freedom intercepted the eagle, punching it into oblivion at 200 mph. The midair impact severely damaged it, leading to the eagle crashlanding. 

Next came Val, Soren and Varamyr’s three wolves.

Edric dragged Mance off the ground and tossed him at Val with an additional sway of the wind, leading to the broken-kneed king accidentally tackling her to the ground. Two of the wolves leapt at him, going for one arm each. Edric used hyper-focus, smacking one midair as if he were wielding a bat. He struck with great strength, leading to the wolf flying into the other one. Soren had went around, going for a hit on Edric’s back.

He managed to spin around in the last moment, barely dodging the axe.

BANG.

He countered with a thunderous blow to Soren’s back, making him kneel from pain. Then he struck his head, snapping the wildling’s neck from the impact. Meanwhile, Varamyr’s shadow cat and two living wolves went for his legs. Edric drew a dagger from his belt, impaling the wolf and using its body to block the shadowcat. After drawing his dagger out from the wolf’s neck, he tossed it right into the shadowcat’s eye with a flicker of lightning.

Varamyr’s snow bear pounced Edric from the back right as he turned to face it, toppling him down and trying to maul through his thick armour. When it went for his head, he tilted it with precision. Ser Loras drew his sword and was ready to cut it when he saw Edric spark with electricity - beginning to lift the snow bear along with Varamyr off the ground!

“... What am I seeing…” 

The wildlings on Edric’s side couldn’t believe their eyes. 

Nor could Edric’s southron men.

“HOW’S THIS FOR STRENGTH?! CAN MANCE DO THIS?!”

 Edric roared, tossing the snow bear forward a dozen metres.

“Seven hells…” Arys Oakheart muttered to himself. 

Afterwards, he got back on his feet and grabbed his warhammer.

“Phew…” He took a deep breath, chuckling as if he made a usual lift. “That one’s a bit on the heavy side.”

Val came next, attacking him from behind as well. Edric turned, blocking her blow with his gauntlet. The bone dagger struck true… but didn’t do much in terms of damage. Edric smiled, tilting his head.

“That tickled.” 

He grabbed her wrist and twisted it lightly, forcing her to drop the dagger. He then swiped at her leg and made Val fall to the ground.

“Do me a favour, and don’t get in my way again.”

Meanwhile, Varamyr’s snowbear had turned tail and ran with a seemingly unconscious Varamyr on top.

“There goes my prophetic speech…”

Edric stretched out his palm and grabbed hold of the snow bear - pulling it in. Meanwhile, Val retrieved her dagger was about to ram it into the back of his knee - which was one of the least protected areas. Edric shifted his leg and kicked her in the chest. Afterwards, he kicked away the bone dagger a dozen metres.

When the snow bear got close, Edric suddenly blanked out.

…

He opened his eyes to the Plane of Euthymia, where Varamyr stood before him. 

“What is this?!” Varamyr looked befuddled. “Who is that… goddess?”

“Did you… try to skinchange into me?” Edric chuckled, glancing at Raiden. “Can you believe the gall of this man?”

“He’s very bold.” Raiden nodded, drawing out her sword.

“Well, since you’re here…” Edric chuckled. “I’ll get to choke you out, after all.”

What proceeded that was a double team like no other. Poor Varamyr didn’t stand a chance as Edric and Raiden tag-teamed him into oblivion until his very soul was no more. In the end, Edric grabbed hold of his neck and electrocuted him into nothing. It was a short but awful fifteen seconds for Varamyr.

Meanwhile, the snow bear still didn’t want any more of that smoke and kept running. Val had gotten Edric’s body to the ground and began to punch him in the face with all her might. When he finally woke, she had gotten a solid five hits in.

“Wildling women sure are fierce.” Edric blicked, grabbing both of her fists before she could do anymore. “It’s our first meeting, and you’re already on top of me. Isn’t that a little fast?”

She frowned, struggling to break free from his grasp. It was no use as his grip was all too strong. Effortlessly, he pushed her to the side and stood up. Meanwhile, Mance managed to stand up off his good leg.

“I forgot the left knee…”

Edric grabbed his warhammer and engulfed it in lightning, tossing it at Mance with just enough strength.

It soared, smashing right against his left knee. All of the bones that were impacted shattered on impact. Once Edric’s warhammer fell, so did the kneeless Mance Rayder. Edric used the wind to raise the warhammer off the ground, grasping it mid-air. 

He glanced at the snow bear in the distance and sent down a bolt of lightning from the heavens, striking it down instantly.

“Practice makes perfect.” 

He grinned, looking around at the ten combatants he had defeated. Out of all of them, the only one who could still put up a fight was Val - who he had been merciful with. Beyond, there were wildlings in the forest who had been roused by the uproar…

He looked back at his band of wildlings.

“Do not think that I will trust you at a moment’s notice. Consider this… a test of fealty.” Edric spoke, dragging Val off the ground by the hair as he looked at his wildling leaders. “I want all of you to return to the host and convince your people to join me. The more, the better. I have no desire for more bloodshed than necessary.”

“You are in luck, my King.” Gerrick Kingsblood puffed up his chest slightly. “We are all the free folk leaders of Mance’s host. With our command, the rest will follow swiftly.” 

“Good, that works in your favour,” Edric turned back. “Kill the rest. If you force the opposing wildlings down south, my men will join the battle…”

The free folk leaders returned to the host and acted in accordance with their new King’s wishes. With his displays of might, he had done more than enough to win them over. They gathered their men and took position north. Despite a few compelling speeches, a good portion of Mance’s men refused to kneel.

A battle broke out.

Harma, one of Edric’s new vassals, led the vanguard as she had once done for Mance. Gerrick Kingsblood showed bravery as well, cutting a bloody path. Before long, Edric took the riders of the North and smashed the flanks of the wildlings with warhammer in hand - leaving them nowhere to retreat. Sandwiched between riders and hordes of wildlings, Mance’s remaining host crumbled to nothing. Those who didn’t surrender in time fell to sword, axe, arrow, lightning or warhammer.

Edric alone had crushed over a hundred men with his warhammer, rallying even greater support amongst the wildling forces under him. 

…

It would be remembered as a decisive, legendary victory, as King Edric I Baratheon turned more than half of Mance’s remaining faction to his side while slaughtering the rest. All that remained were the smaller hosts in the far west and east… almost an afterthought to his new, vast host. 

He would form numerous great wildfires, using his wind magic to whirl and grow the flames, and make his new army burn all of the bodies - as wildling tradition dictated. Though, this was more of a personal matter as he did not wish for the Night King to add to his army. To Edric’s kneelers, however, it was seen as an act of virtue and consideration.

…

“All hail Mance Rayder, the unbent King-Beyond-the-Wall!”

Edric announced, tossing the kneeless Mance Rayder to the ground. The men of Castle Black cheered and laughed. Even Edric’s kneelers, who once fought for the man, joined in. Mance Rayder would play the fool for an entire night of celebration, being tortured by whoever had the desire and will. He’d get hit, spit on, kicked, mocked… everything under the sun that wasn’t too extreme.

Such was the price of defeat.

Author's note:

(The voting ended up a three-way tie :skull:... so I did what I thought was best.)

God Of Forges Chapter 6: Vulcan's Awakening

It was not the best decision at the moment; deep down, he knew it. It didn’t matter what Xiao Ning said; he'd eclipse him in a couple of months. Yet, an uncontrollable rage had overtaken him. Something deep inside had snapped and broken free.

He would not stand down to Xiao Ning… not today - even if he lost badly.

His nature wouldn’t allow it.

“That little fire trick again.” Xiao Ning regained his composure. “Now that I think about it… you’ve never sparred, have you?”

“...”

Xiao Jian looked at him, the fire in his eye dimming. He could hear his father's voice again as if he were the same wild and unrestrained menace who got expelled from school.

“You're immensely strong, tall, quick and possess all the passion in the world. God gave you all these gifts not to bully the weak but to stand up for them.”

Xiao Ning saw an opportunity in his hesitation, storming forward.

[Higher Yellow: Iron Mountain Fist!]

He smashed his fist against Xiao Jian’s chest, sending him back nearly ten meters. He spit out some blood as a result. In the process, he had also lost grip of his sword. 

“You stood up for yourself, yes… but you went too far. Would it have hurt so much for you to turn the other cheek when you've already won?”

Xiao Ning flashed over to kick him right in the face.

“All of that fighting is pointless. Be the bigger man I know you are.”

[Middle Yellow: Dual Dragon Rage]

Xiao Ning enveloped his arms with Dou Qi, forming the shape of two golden dragons. He charged in and began hitting Xiao Jian with a barrage of attacks while he remained in a daze.

Then… he saw it.

His other half… or rather, his unbridled self standing on a mountain of corpses, covered in the blood of his victims. His air of tyranny, pride and hunger for battle was overwhelming. He had a mocking grin for Xiao Jian.

“You’ve kept me tucked away for so long, sweet Dennis - avoiding fights, keeping yourself composed - for what? You see what it has earned you. Nothing but mockery. They call you a cripple when you are mightier than any one of them.”

“Let your anger fly free… let me finish the fight that you started.”

BANG.

After a dozen blows, Xiao Ning managed to punch Xiao Jian hard enough to knock him to the ground.

“For a three-star Dou Disciple, brother Xiao Jian is quite durable. Too durable…”

“Guess all those muscles aren't for show, huh…”

“Why didn't he defend himself?” 

The crowd seemed confused. As Xiao Ning went over to beat on him while he was down, Xun’er wanted to step in… but then she sensed something… foreboding - for Xiao Ning. 

He started kicking him, but felt that his hits weren’t really making an impact. It’s not that he was any weaker than before…

“This is looking ugly…” Someone in the crowd remarked.

“Heh, Xiao Jian deserves it for talking so big.”

“It would be better if he just killed him. Being a cripple, all Xiao Jian can do now is bring shame and dishonour to the Xiao Clan…”

Xiao Ning furrowed his brows.

As Xiao Jian came in to reach for his foot, he retreated.

“Ah, the taste of my blood. So bittersweet.” Xiao Jian rolled over, opening his left eye. His previously reluctant expression had faded entirely, replaced by a grin that reflected a deep and unsettling masochism. “You could've done a bit more to get me excited, surely.”

“...” Xiao Ning raised a confused eyebrow. Something was wrong, and he knew it.

Xiao Jian slowly got up, licking the blood from his mouth. His Dou Qi surged, enveloping him in a flaming aura. This aura surged… matching and surpassing Xiao Ning in the blink of an eye.

“I didn't insult you out of arrogance, little man.” He grinned as his crippled right eye exploded into an inferno of flame. A faint tattoo of a golden enflamed hammer with a golden wreath around it flickered on his chest, glowing through his robes. His hair had grown considerably longer, too. “It’s just that… you’re so much weaker than me. Why should I tolerate you?”

Xiao Ning furrowed his brows as Xiao Jian towered over him, his aura suppressing him. An overwhelming sense of insignificance overcame him. It was as if he were an ant looking up at a mountain that pierced the skies. 

He clenched his fists, charging in despite this feeling.

“You’re good at being a punching bag, Xiao Jian!”

Xiao Jian stood still as Xiao Ning punched him in the chest. He didn’t even move, looking unimpressed.

His eyes widened in shock.

This… shouldn’t be happening!

Xiao Jian’s grin was bone-chilling.

“It’s my turn.”

He grabbed Xiao Ning’s wrist and twisted it, forcing his arm behind his back. He proceeded to kick him forward - sending the young man into a wall over two dozen metres away. Xiao Ning crashed into the wall, in a daze. In just an instant, he had been terribly injured. 

Meanwhile, Xiao Jian took his time bridging the gap between them - each thunderous step of his shaking the earth.

By the time he reached him, Xiao Ning had recovered and prepared a counter.

[Higher Yellow: Iron Mountain Fist!]

Xiao Jian saw right through it, stepping aside and…

BANG.

He punched his gut with such force that Xiao Ning bent down and fell right back to the ground.

Afterwards, Xiao Jian stamped on the man’s head with his foot.

“What’s wrong, Xiao Ning?” Xiao Jian tilted his head, grinning. “Why are you losing to a one-eyed cripple? Who is not worthy of who? Remind me, I seem to have forgotten…”

“Argh… moyai… gah… xunier…” Xiao Ning’s reply was entirely unintelligible.

“No answer, eh? You know what I think would be funny?” Xiao Jian laughed madly, removing his foot from his head. He grabbed Xiao Ning by his ponytail - raising him back up. He then stretched out an enflamed finger, pointing it at Xiao Ning’s right eye. “If we became one-eyed cripples… together! I could even give you red skin like mine - wouldn’t that be a great teambuilding exercise? You could be my little brother!”

“No… please…” Xiao Ning begged. “Don’t…”

“Xiao Jian has lost it…” Someone in the crowd remarked.

“Someone… do something.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Well… why don’t you?”

No one approved of what was happening, yet no one stepped in between them either. Xiao Jian looked far too frightening at this moment in time. Xiao Xun’er was the only one with a calm expression. Xiao Wan, who had been absorbed by his scroll, stood up.

“That’s enough, Xiao Jian. You’ve won.”

“How convenient,” Xiao Jian grinned. “Where were you when I was on the ground, getting kicked by this worm? Or does the ‘cripple’ not get the same treatment as the ‘prized’ Xiao Ning?”

“... I said, that’s enough.”

‘Would it have hurt so much for you to turn the other cheek when you've already won?’ He heard his father’s voice, followed up by his own.

‘That’s enough… we’ve won.’

Xiao Jian looked at Xiao Ning, whispering to him;

“Don’t you ever come between Xun’er and me again… or being burnt red with a crippled eye will be the least of your problems.” 

He then tossed him to the side like a bag of trash.

“You’re right. I’ve won.”

Xiao Jian remarked, brushing past the senior to pick up his sword and return it to its sheath. His right eye closed, his hair returned to its original length, and the tattoo faded. His expression changed last, realising what had happened. 

He looked around and saw only looks of terror among his generation. They called him a monster, and he had proven them all right.

“And… I’ve lost just as well.”

He left with a bitter expression.

~

Xiao Jian returned to his room and sat on the ground with his head lowered. The flames within his body had subsided, leaving him with only regret. Yao Lao observed with an intrigued expression.

“Heh… I called you a little monster as a joke, but you’ve really proven it now.” Yao Lao’s red eyes observed the young man. “You possess a divine bloodline, and one so pure as well… you may as well be the incarnation of a god - albeit one that has only shown a sliver of an awakening. It’s a small wonder why your appearance is so different from the rest.”

“...” 

“Don’t look so down, young man. It is in your nature to be domineering - look at your physique! Your bloodline flaring affected your temperament, and you let your true emotions rush out. You barely wounded that other brat… it’s hardly a consequence compared to what you gained.”

“I’m a greater outcast than ever before…” Xiao Jian sighed, shaking his head.

“An outcast, hm? Good.” Yao Lao chuckled. “Don’t let a simple Xiao Clan weigh you down. If they reject you, then you have no reason to stay. Once you are strong enough, you can leave and spread your wings. With my guidance, you will be the mightiest figure within this Jia Ma Empire before long.”

“And, if that girl’s background knew of your bloodline… hah, they’d be rushing to have you two married and in the same bed!"

“Do you think I frightened her?” Xiao Jian questioned, ignoring his slightly vulgar remark. “I lost control of myself completely…”

“You can be so naive, kid.” Yao Lao laughed. “Did you know your Xun’er was this close to crippling him herself? Her killing intent was brief but as vast as an ocean. Had she acted, she would’ve beaten him thrice as bad as you did… he might even find himself to be dead.”

“... You’re lying.” Xiao Jian blinked. “Xun’er wouldn’t do something like that…”

“She’s a more frightening girl than you realise. Heh, truth be told, you two monsters might just belong together.”

‘Was this the hand of fate?’ Yao Lao wondered to himself.

After a moment of silence, Xiao Jian took a deep breath, rising from the ground.

“No point in moping about. If I were stronger, Xiao Ning wouldn’t even act up in the first place.”

“That is one way of seeing it.” Yao Lao floated about. “Though, really, you can be too soft sometimes. To be truly strong, you will have to encounter life-and-death situations that push you to the brink. There will be times when you will have to be cold and ruthless to survive and protect the things you hold dear. That is the cruel world we live in, Xiao Jian.”

“Control your fury when you need to… but, when it comes to battle, do not hold back - because your opponent will not.”

“... Yeah.” Xiao Jian nodded absentmindedly. 

His head was still buzzing with conflicted emotions.

He left to go to his forge and gathered some metal. Afterwards, he worked on forging a large bowl—one fitting for his size. Once finished, he filled it with water and watched Yao Lao cook up another Foundation Elixir. 

His training continued without further delay.

…

Xiao Ning went off with the support of his friends after Xiao Jian left, holding his broken wrist. 

Meanwhile, Xiao Xun’er looked at the bouquet of flowers Xiao Jian had gifted her with a pleased expression. She took a deep breath, taking in the scent. Her lips curled into a joyous smile.

‘Xiao Jian ge-ge is more special than I ever imagined…’

God Of Forges Chapter 5: The Eccentric Yao Lao

“Hehe, kid, you're looking the wrong way. I'm on your finger.”

“...?” Xiao Jian raised an eyebrow, looking at his mother’s black ring with bewilderment. He thought he was hallucinating. “Who the hell are you?”

“Who am I? You don't need to know, I won't harm you. Heh, after all these years, to have finally found someone with a soul strong enough. What luck! Hehe, I should thank you for your offerings the last four years - otherwise, I'd probably still be sleeping.”

“What offerings?” Xiao Jian questioned with a frown. “My dou Qi disappearing… YOU did that?”

“Hehe, I had to do that, kid don't be mad at me.”

“...” He let that sink in. Those four years of constant pain and disappointment had all been his doing. His blood rapidly surged in fury. “You… MOTHERF*CKING LEECH, SHIT EATING VAMPIRE, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING FREELOADER, FUUUUCK YOU AND EVERYTHING YOU STAND FOR!”

He removed the ring from his finger and tossed it as far as it could. 

It flew off into the distance, disappearing in the mist beneath the mountain.

“...” A moment of silence passed. He sighed, shaking his head. “All that… for what?”

Before he knew it, the black ring floated all the way up. Though, that wasn't the most shocking part of it. There was a handsome figure above it with long silvery white hair and crimson red eyes. His aura radiated an eccentric yet wizened feeling. 

(I took the Manhua appearance on this one.)

This ghost… it reminded him of another. Though, it couldn't be him.

“Hehe, kid, you don't need to be so mad, do you? I only took four years of your Dou Qi.”

“Eight.” Xiao Jian swiftly corrected. “The four years I had accumulated before, and the four years of decline… EIGHT years.”

“Jeez, kid. All these technicalities when you only lost your status as a Dou Practitioner. That really is nothing.”

“F*ck you.” Xiao Jian reinforced his dislike for the figure. “Go fly off to someone who gives a shit.”

Within only a year, with his talent, Dou Disciple 7 was more than accomplishable! In only a few years, he'd be able to return to his genius status. For that matter, it might only take two years…

“This young generation really is brutal… or is it just you, crazy kid?” The spirit laughed. 

“Shut up before I put you in a forge and melt the ring.”

“While you did lose your Dou Qi, you gained far more in those four years.” The elder made a slight, gaslighting smile. “You see, kid, you learned that there was more to life than smithing! You fell in love with that lass and broke free from a marriage you had no desire for! Hehe, kid, if you think about it… I really did help you!”

“Don't gaslight me.” Xiao Jian frowned.

“Gaslighting? What is that, a new word?” The spirit stroked his chin with a clueless expression. “Never heard of it.”

“Why are you still here, you damn leech? You didn't steal enough Dou Qi from me?”

“Hehe, and where else would I find a little monster like you?” The spirit’s eyes sparkled. “Since I already chose to appear, then before you give me your permission, I won't take your Dou QI.”

“What makes you think I'd ever give my permission? Do you want a medal for not being a leech? Hmph.” Xiao Jian shook his head. “How about you give me back those eight years?”

“Wishful thinking, kid. I cannot control time. But…” Just as Xiao Jian turned away, he raised a finger. “I can help you grow, faster than ever. Those eight years will be nothing but a passing tide. You will be twice the genius you were before… and you might just reach that sweetheart of yours.”

“What sweetheart?”

“Hehe, kid, I had the perfect view of your adorable romance. Shame that she is quite unreachable for you as things stand…”

“Thanks to who…” Xiao Jian rolled his eyes.

“Kid, even if you were a Dou Master at this age, it wouldn't be enough. The background she comes from has seen talent like that come and go. You'd be nothing but another worm on the ground. But… I can help you bridge that gap and soar!”

“How?” Xiao Jian’s curiosity took hold. 

“Ahh, now I have your attention.” The elder observed with a smile. “Do you want to be an alchemist?”

“...” Xiao Jian raised an eyebrow. “No.”

“Kid, do you have a rock for a brain?” The elder sighed, shaking his head. “Do you know how rare and prized alchemists are?”

“Don't care.” Xiao Jian shrugged. “I’d rather be a better smith then waste my time with that.”

“... They are similar concepts. Do you want to stand beside your beloved or not, kid? It's fine if you do not, I won't bother…”

“I absolutely have to be an alchemist?”

“Yep.” He nodded. “There's no other way.”

“Fine, whatever.”

“Jeez, kid. Any other boy would be begging for me to teach them and here you are. No matter, since you do want to be an alchemist, I'll teach you. But, first, you should pay respect to your teacher.”

“Pay respect to a leech like you?” Xiao Jian scoffed.

“Ridiculous! To not pay your respects and still expect me to teach you all that I know? You’re dreaming!”

“I'll pay my respects after you reach me something useful.”

“You are quite demanding, kid.” The elder chuckled. “No matter, I understand your position. I'll be considerate this once. My name is Yao Lao. As for my origin, you don't need to know for now so you don't get distracted. All you need to know is that Pill King Gu He is… only trash in my eyes.”

Xiao Jian watched Yao Lao’s casual and carefree expression with bewilderment. Was he bullshitting? Even though he didn't care for alchemy, he knew just how crazy people went for that geezer’s pills.

“Really? You're not talking out of your ass?”

“Really, really.” Yao Lao nodded. “Now, I will show you the brilliance of alchemy! But first, I will need you to prepare three complete stalks of Purple Leaved Bluegrass. The older, the better. Then I will need two stalks of Bone Washing Flower and… oh, right, a level one wood attributed monster core.”

“You'll make some pill from it? Or some magic ritual to take over my body?”

“Your body?” Yao Lao scoffed. “Look in the mirror, kid. Why would I want your body? Besides, if such trashy ingredients could allow an alchemist to take over bodies, you'd have heard about it by now.”

Xiao Jian smiled slightly. His gut feeling told him the elder was genuine. 

“What is it, then?”

“A foundation elixir to increase training speed. With it, reaching the 7th stage of Dou Disciple within a year should be easy as long as you are dedicated.”

“Alright…” He decided to trust this Yao Lao. “I’ve saved up some money over the years.”

“You should not be poor. Smiths are lesser alchemists; it's to be expected.” Yao Lao nodded nonchalantly.

“Lesser?”

“You heard me, kid. You'll learn, too. In time.”

“Yeah, right.”

Xiao Jian stood up from the rocky ground and made his way down to Wu Tan City. By the time he got down, it was a bustling afternoon in the markets. He entered the markets under the Xiao Clan, avoiding the others, and searched for the goods Yao Lao asked if him.

“Third Young Master!” One of the guards cried out, wearing a full set of custom gear Xiao Jian had made in his spare time. “Do you need an escort? The markets can be dangerous and thieves are ever prevalent.”

“I'm fine, thank you.” Xiao Jian smiled.

“Ah… okay.”

Though he rejected the escort, the guard sneakily followed him anyway. As he made his way around, more and more of the Xiao Clan’s guards kept an eye on him. Why would they go to such lengths? Were their intentions malicious? Not at all!

Four years ago, he had upgraded the gear of all of the guards of the Xiao Clan and personally gave bonuses. This favour was not one any of them had forgotten! Ever since, the Xiao Clan’s guards sought an opportunity to repay his charity… but it had never arisen.

In the Xiao Clan’s markets, Xiao Jian was more protected than an imperial prince!

‘These guys…’ Xiao Jian smiled slightly as he noticed them. 

As per Yao Lao’s request, he found three stalks of Purple Leaved Bluegrass - all twenty years old and two stalks of seven-year-old Bone Washing Flower for about a thousand gold coins. As for the wood attributed monster core, he already had one tucked away in his forge.

“Let’s see if you're any good, leecher.” Xiao Jian watched Yao Lao attentively as he returned to his bedroom. 

“Soon enough, you'll be calling me teacher. Go get a huge bowl of water big enough for a kid your size.”

While Xiao Jian went off to retrieve said bowl, Yao Lao grabbed a stalk of Purple Leaved Bluegrass in one hand and spread out his palm in the other. A white flame emerged as he held the ingredient over it, turning the Purple Leaved Bluegrass into a green liquid in but an instant. Yao Lao proceeded to add the other two stalks, one after the other. 

The green liquid ball would grow larger with each Purple Leaved Bluegrass. As the fire kept burning, the liquid blue ball grew smaller - its impurities being refined until the ball was only the size of a normal thumb. He'd do the same with the Bone Washing Flower, following up with the refinement of the monster core.

That step took longer, lasting an hour as the mixture softened by Yao Lao’s magical formula. Once he was finished, Yao Lao let go of his flame, and it vanished. He hadn't even broken a sweat despite working for an entire hour. 

Xiao Jian forgot all about his grudge at that moment, his eyes sparkling at the result. He could easily sense the bountiful energy in the liquid green ball. Alchemists were no joke, after all…

“What now?” Xiao Jian asked impatiently.

Yao Lao flicked the ball right into the bowl of water Xiao Jian had prepared. 

“From now on, you'll be training in there. One thing to note is that this foundation elixir will only last two months-”

Before Yao Lao could finish, Xiao Jian swiftly undressed and dipped inside. 

“How impatient…” Yao Lao chuckled. “I suppose this bath was long overdue. Even as a soul, I can sense your overwhelming stench.”

“Shut up.” Xiao Jian rolled his eyes. “It's my natural, manly, odour. Nothing I can do about it.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me, kid.”

“A Dou Qi sucker like you really shouldn't be complaining.” Xiao Jian closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Hehe, kid. I sure hope you're not taking this grudge to the grave. Stop crying and train!”

“Mhm…”

~

As the young red giant sat patiently in the bowl and greedily absorbed the Dou QI around him, the green liquid beneath him began to evaporate. He breathed in the steam, which made his face strangely soft and smooth. The green liquid that stuck to his body was being absorbed by his skin, strengthening his bones and Qi paths.

Because of Xiao Jian’s unwavering training, more and more green streams rose from the bowl, growing dense enough to form a layer of mist dense enough to cover his naked body. Even though the bowl was uncomfortable and a tad bit small, he kept himself still and patient.

He didn't dare waste even a moment.

As he continued, steam emerged from his own body and heated the bowl. This heat came to affect the rest of the room, making it comparable to a sauna. As this happened, Xiao Jian began to look wholly comfortable… at complete peace.

Because of this additional heat, he absorbed the foundation elixir at an accelerated rate… draining the dark green colour from the bowl.

Yao Lao observed in bewilderment. 

‘This kid… really is a monster.’ He thought to himself. ‘Two months? Hah, this foundation elixir might not even a month!’

Having been scorned and powerless for years, Xiao Jian had no intentions of being weak ever again. He wanted to be strong. Strong enough for his father to be free of any worries, strong enough to be the best smith in the world and strong enough… to be with Xun’er.

Inflamed by his vigorous passion, Xiao Jian relentlessly trained…

Except to meet his bodily necessities, he didn't stop.

~

Stage four… stage five.

In only twenty-five days, Xiao Jian had drained all of the foundation elixir.

“You said this would last two months…” Xiao Jian raised an eyebrow.

“Hehe, kid, you're greedy beyond belief! I didn't lie to you. An ordinary person at your level would take two months, maybe three, to absorb this foundation elixir…”

“Still, that foundation elixir… it's pretty good.” Xiao Jian begrudgingly gave Yao Lao his compliments. “At this rate, I'll Dou Practitioner again in a year. Maybe less than that.”

“Pretty good?” Yao Lao laughed. “Don't be so shy to compliment your great master. I won't berate you, haha.”

“...” Xiao Jian rolled his eyes. “Making one foundation elixir won't wash away your title, leecher.”

“Do you want to be an alchemist now?” Yao Lao questioned once more.

“... Yeah.” Xiao Jian admitted. “Of course.”

Having seen Yao Lao cook up that foundation elixir made him far more excited by the prospect of becoming one himself. The process looked similar to smithing in some ways, too. He wondered if the two could work in tandem in the future, his alchemy enhancing his smithing…

“Good, good.” Yao Lao grinned. “One of your gifts is your strong passion! With such a low regard for alchemy, your growth speed would only be a bit better than ordinary. But if you were passionate… hehe, you'd be great in no time! Alas, you have to become a Dou Practitioner before I can begin teaching you alchemy.”

“Alright, I'll go get the ingredients for the second elixir.” Xiao Jian rose from the bowl, getting dressed swiftly.

He went over to the market and bought similar ingredients, placing them in a bag. This time, however, he needed to find a wood attributed monster core which set him back a good 500 gold. In total, he spent 1500. This ingredient buying business was getting a bit expensive… but, since he had accumulated and saved a good amount of wealth, he could afford it. 

He glanced at the local auction houses while walking around the markets, wondering how much a foundation elixir would fetch in gold. It wouldn't hurt to make some gold from the geezer… though he was a little too proud to use the elixir for anything other than training - especially after calling him a leecher.

On the way back, he saw a flower merchant and paused. As he saw a bouquet of blue lotuses, he thought of Xun’er.

‘Love is like fire.’ Xiao Jian thought of his father's words. ‘If there is enough charcoal, it will burn bright and for a long time… but without continuous care, the fire will fade.’

“How much for that one?” Xiao Jian confronted the merchant, his giant physique towering over him. His deep tone had been intimidating - though he didn't mean to be. 

“Uh…” The merchant hesitated, rubbing his hands nervously. “One gold will do.”

“Really?” Xiao Jian tilted his head innocently. “That's pretty cheap.”

“Ah, they're just pretty flowers with no other use, Young Master. Even one gold piece is a little much.”

“I'll give you ten if you can prepare it nicely.” Xiao Jian smiled charismatically. “You see…”

“There's a lady that caught your eye, young master?” Seeing his reaction, the merchant got to work. “Of course, I'll prepare it at once.”

“Ah…” Xiao Jian chuckled as the merchant moved at rapid yet proficient pace.

The merchant expanded on the bouquet, mixing in the right flowers to bring out the beauty of the ice lotuses. Afterwards, he sealed it with a romantic red ribbon and sprinkled an expensive sweet-smelling and enchanting perfume.

“With this kind of gift, any girl will fall in love with you!” The merchant proudly announced.

“Thank you.” Xiao Jian nodded, taking the bouquet and giving ten gold as promised. “I hope you have a good year with plenty of profits.”

“Your charity has already set me forward by a thousand miles, young master! Thank you, thank you.”

Xiao Jian smiled, eventually moving away from the merchant and making his way home. He set the ingredients in his bedroom and took the bouquet on his way out.

“A gift for your lady love?” Yao Lao chuckled. “By the way, I know how you like to be completely truthful to those close to you… but you better not expose my identity to anyone! Not your lover, or even your father. No one. Don't even think about it.”

“My lover?” Xiao Jian shook his head. “Get your head out of the gutter, geezer. We're not anywhere near that.”

“Your intended lover.” Yao Lao corrected.

“I… just wanted to show my thanks.” Xiao Jian scratched his hair. “She stood by me, through thick and thin.”

“Heh. You're quite inexperienced in this regard, I see. Regardless, my words mean all the same. You won't mention me to anyone, got it?”

“Sure.” 

Yao Lao doubted him.

“I'll give it a year or two before you tell that lass.” He remarked.

“...” Xiao Jian rolled his eyes. “Less crying and more elixir making.”

“The gall to use my own words against me…” Yao Lao laughed. “You’ll be the end of me, kid. I doubt I'll ever have a more troublesome student, and the last one…”

“The last one did what?” Xiao Jian blinked with curiosity, his golden eye observing the elder. 

“No matter, you don't need to know now. Go on and date the girl of your heart.”

“We’re not-”

Before Xiao Jian could rebuttal, Yao Lao slipped back inside the black ring.

…

Xiao Jian proceeded to look everywhere in the Xiao Clan, his head on a swivel. First he went to Xun’er’s room and didn't find her there. Then he went inside of the main hall and was just as unsuccessful. Walking by the corridor, he heard someone gossip that Xiao Ning and Xun’er were practicing in the Dou Technique Hall.

He went right over there, walking into the large training field to the west. In the middle, Xiao Ning and Xiao Xun’er were sparring with each other while a crowd of Xiao Clan members watched.

“Heh, Xiao Ning’s Dou Qi of the 8th stage is no match for Xun’er’s 9th stage prowess.” One of the people in the crowd remarked.

Xiao Ning was a youth of about 17-18 years, handsome and popular. Since Xiao Jian’s fall off, he had become the most talented male amongst the Xiao Clan’s youth. He was also the main elder’s grandson, giving him quite the status. In terms of talent, only Xiao Xun’er was better than him. 

Xiao Jian had little love for him, considering their past. Even when he was an earth-shattering genius, Xiao Ning only pretended to accept him.

Xiao Xun’er glanced at Xiao Jian, dodging all of Xiao Ning’s swift attacks with elegant ease - as if she were a purple butterfly. Her eyes remained on him, eyeing the bouquet in his hands. As Xiao Ning prepared to attack her from the back, Xiao Jian raised a frown of worry.

She smiled mischievously, blinking her beautiful eyes.

With only a slight step, she strangely dodged all of Xiao Ning’s attacks. While she was dodging, her hand moved in for a counter - lightly landing on his chest. Xiao Ning, from that slight touch, had to take back a dozen steps and even clumsily fell to the ground.

Xiao Jian smiled slightly.

Meanwhile, Xiao Ning got off the ground and dusted himself off.

“Hehe, junior sister Xun’er really is at the top in the younger generation of the clan. You’re really strong.”

Xiao Ning, despite losing, smiled warmly. As he calmly looked at her, the fervent love in his eyes wasn’t hidden at all. Considering their lack of blood relations despite being in the Xiao Clan and them being the two most talented youths, he considered her to be his future wife. He was, after all, the grandson of the top elder of the clan, and thought himself more than worthy.

“Senior brother Xiao Ning let me win.”

Her eyes turned away from Xiao Ning respectfully, as if she didn’t see his fervent gaze.

As she moved towards Xiao Jian, all eyes were on her… and, soon enough, on him too. Xiao Jian smiled confidently, his look reflecting the same person who once shook the Jia Ma Empire with his heavenly talent. Xiao Xun’er saw it - clear as glass.

“Today, I was passing by the markets and thought you’d like some flowers, Xun’er.” 

Xiao Jian felt strangely embarrassed. Usually, his confidence would be peerless, yet, when it came to her… not so much.

The way his heart fluttered in her presence, it really was something out of his control.

“Flowers from brother Xiao Jian?” Xiao Xun’er smiled, swiftly yet gently taking the bouquet from his hands - a little too greedily. She took a sniff and felt enamoured. “It’s a wonderful gift, Xiao Jian ge-ge. I love it. Come to think of it… it’s the first time brother Xiao Jian has ever given me flowers.”

“Well, I wanted to thank you for everything…” Xiao Jian looked away for a moment, scratching his wild black hair. “Though, I admit, it’s a small gift. Once I become a Dou Master, I’ll make you an even better necklace.”

Xiao Xun’er touched the lotus necklace that adorned her. He had forged all of her jewellery… and ever since she first put them on, not a single one of them had left her person. As of now, that included the necklace and two bracelets - one on each hand.

“A Dou Master?” Xiao Ning butted in, raising an eyebrow. “Brother Xiao Jian, you should reach the 4th stage of Dou Disciple before talking so big!”

Some of the people in the crowd laughed. Everyone knew that he was a glorified cripple, having fallen deeper and deeper as the years went on. Xiao Xun’er frowned, cold as ice, as she glanced back at Xiao Ning.

“Senior Brother Xiao Ning didn’t have such a big mouth four years ago.” Xiao Jian put a hand on Xun’er’s shoulder, stepping forward. “Or did you hit your head and forget?”

“Oh, I did not forget. But… you should remember where you are now. A one-eyed cripple!” Xiao Ning’s eyes lit up with anger. “You should know that you are not worthy of Xun’er in the slightest, and you never will be! By being around her, you’re only bringing her down to your lowly level.”

Xiao Jian tried to contain his fury, his deep breath creating a flicker of a flame from his mouth. 

Their difference in strength was still prevalent… a whole three stars! Not only that, but Xiao Jian had never cared much for Dou Techniques. His arsenal of skills was entirely empty! He was a smithing and qi training merchant…

“You’ve said too much, Xiao Ning.” Xiao Xun’er raised her hand and prepared to attack him.

“Don’t fight him, kid.” Yao Lao whispered in a voice only he could hear. “He’d beat you easily, and you’d earn nothing from it-”

“Is hiding behind the skirts of Xun’er all you can do?!” Xiao Ning stepped back.

Xiao Jian had enough, drawing Dragonheart from its sheath. Its black blade lit up with flames - reflecting the turmoil and rage in his heart. 

“Since when… did a piece of dog sh*t like you get so arrogant?!”

Raiden's Storm Chapter 83: Looming Decision

[3rd person]


Edric did not show the slightest inkling of mercy, raining arrows and lightning down on the wildlings who dared besiege the Wall. He first put down the giants, taking the wildling’s greatest weapons with haste. None of his arrows had missed - soaring with lethal accuracy. They were just as deadly and efficient, putting down a wildling each. It seemed as if he alone could man and defend that portion of the Wall…


Each attempt that Mance made was thwarted, time and time again, with lethal decisiveness.


With his newly attained skill, Eye of Stormy Judgement, Edric was able to fuel himself with electro energy from each kill. This made him capable of fighting for much longer, standing on top of the wall for an entire day with only the smallest of breaks between. By then, he had slaughtered thousands of wildlings singlehandedly and forced them to retreat into the woods further north.


“YEAAAH! RUN BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM!”


“VICTORY IS OURS!”


“WHAT IS A HORDE OF WILDLINGS TO THE STORM?”


Everyone who had fought alongside him looked at Edric with endless reverence and a bit of caution. He had arrived and sent the wildlings packing in but a single day! His terrifying gaze was unsettling, the usually cool ocean-blue eyes replaced by a piercing violet purple. While a majority of the men celebrated with joy, his expression was entirely unchanged.


“We’ve won a couple of battles.” He remarked, looking around. “Celebrate, if you must… but don’t let it get to your head. The war is not over yet.”


Edric’s words reigned the excitement of the men atop the Wall. After saying his piece, he sat down on the ice-cold floor, his back leaning against the battlements. He felt all too weary. His entire body felt numb from constant fighting, from fingers to hands to arms to legs. Though most longbowmen would fire at a decent pace, Edric’s speed was nearly twice as fast - while firing at ten times the range… sometimes more. 


Even with his electro enhancements, his body could only take so much.


He put his bow to the side, looked at his shaking hands, and sighed.


“The Wall wouldn’t fall from you taking some hours for bed rest,” 


Arya remarked, standing next to him. She looked concerned about his condition. While she knew he could endure more than any other man, he wasn’t indomitable and tireless. Constant fighting would bring him down like anyone else.


“I gave them the impression of a terrible God who does not tire.” Edric managed a smile, tilting his head slightly. “Now that they’ve routed, they will think twice about attacking this part of the Wall… likely diverting their attention elsewhere.”


“Eastwatch-by-the-Sea?”


“More than likely.” Edric nodded, lowering his head slightly as his eyelids grew heavy. “I… will have to ride there with haste and humble them. But - I cannot be at three places at once. If Mance is clever enough, he will split his host in three… or focus on attacking the gate opposite to me. Either way, they’re only delaying the inevitable. This is not a war they can win.”


“If some of them manage to get past the Wall…”


He blanked out.


“You talked too much.” 


Arya smiled slightly, retrieving his bear cloak and taking the time to wrap it around him. It wasn’t easy at all, given his weight. She even had Robb help with it.


“He’s finally asleep.” Robb let out a sigh of relief. “He’s thrice as powerful as before and ten times as stubborn. I told him we had the Wall secured, but he wanted to see them run.”


“I see why you were so certain of him,” Jon remarked, joining in as he looked at the resting Edric. “Mance Rayder won’t try this gate again if he still has his wits about him. They might split their forces and attack from east and west. Though, I reckon he will try to negotiate after today. He has lost too many men and gained nothing for it.”


“That negotiation cannot happen without His Grace,” Robb replied, looking to be in deep thought. “To make certain that the Wall stands, I would send reinforcements for Eastwatch-By-The-Sea and the Shadow Tower. But… His Grace might have other plans. We will wait for him to wake acting.”


“I didn’t think you’d lack for confidence, Lord Stark.” Jon smiled slightly.


“His Grace just so happens to be the finest strategist in the Realm and will make the best decision possible. Winning battles is in his blood, after all.”


“Some say he’s a God… or some ‘chosen’ son of the Gods.” Jon looked at Edric with a sense of admiration. “I can see why they think so. What other boy of two-and-ten years has accomplished what he has? Most of your stories I found hard to believe, but seeing it first-hand… he has proven them true and more.”


He smiled, turning to Arya.


“His greatest feat, however, will be turning our wild Arya into a queen…”


Robb let out a chuckle. “Aye, that will be harder than all of his other battles.”


They both laughed about it while Arya blushed in embarrassment. 


“Instead of laughing, you two should help carry the King to bed.” She crossed her arms. “It would not do anyone any good if he fell sick a second time.”


“Yes, Your Grace.” Jon jested, stepping towards Edric. 


Robb nodded, joining him. “See, she’s already acting a queen…”


“One day, it will be more than an act,” Jon added, shrugging. “It’s better if she gets used to it, I think.”


“Hurry up.” Arya insisted. 


“At once, Your Grace.”


They took an arm each and lifted him up.


“Heavier than I thought…” Jon remarked.


“Do you need another man to help you?” Robb chuckled.


“No, I’m plenty capable.”


~


[Margaerys’ POV]


Highgarden was a more beautiful sight than King’s Landing and most definitely a place with a finer smell. She had returned home and felt better for it. After dinner, her grandmother summoned her for a more private audience in a beautiful secluded garden - one of many. A fountain stood at the centre, everflowing with water.


“So, you had a dance with the boy King, did you?” Olenna questioned, eyeing her with a strange look.


“It was not what I had in mind… not then.” Margaery Tyrell took a grape from the pile of fruits before her. “He became quite insistent, however… and one thing led to another.”


“Did you not goad him?”


“Of course.” Margaery smiled with slight bitterness. “Perhaps I was wrong to do that, after all. He remembers little of what happened, and while he might act with courtesy, I have enough reason to believe that he was not fond of the act.”


“You could not force yourself on the boy men claim to be the strongest in the Realm.” Olenna scoffed. “The boy’s twice as brazen as his father to take your maidenhead and turn the other cheek as if nothing had happened.”


“I should have been more patient.” Margaery sighed, shaking her head. “Given how he acted, I was so sure… yet Edric remains a mystery to me. Some days, he might be warm, and others - cold. His actions and words do not reflect his thoughts - not always, as they seem to change as swiftly as the sky turns dark.”


“An oaf like the rest of them.” Olenna mused with a slight smile. “What can you do? After a glorious tournament, he rode off for another quest for glory. Sooner or later, all those battles will land him in an early grave.”


“I pray not.” Margaery frowned slightly. 


“Don't tell me he charmed you instead.” Olenna’s face changed as Margaery gave no reply. “So your ‘goading’ and impatience was more so of a personal desire rather than what was best. I thought I taught you better.”


“My confession to him held no falsehoods.” Margaery admitted. “I thought it might be mutual… alas, he chose duty and Arya Stark.”


“You did not do enough to convince him otherwise, it seems. How difficult is it to make a boy forget his duty?”


“That is like saying a dragon is a snake, grandmother. Edric is no ordinary boy.”


Olenna observed her expression and sighed. “The girl is plain, boyish and wild from what I've heard. The fool must be blind to turn you away. Or did he learn a little more from Renly? Perhaps he fancies that Ser Arthur…”


“I do not believe so.” Margaery found that notion rather absurd. While close, they were more akin to best friends. Perhaps even brothers. “He was far too passionate with me for it to be true…”


“... Fortunately, not all is lost.” Olenna glanced at her stomach. “If the gods are good, you will birth a son and the Realm will rejoice. It will be some years before that Stark girl will be wedded and even longer before she gives him a son of her own. Given the precedent our Storm created for himself… a bastard succeeding the crown has never been more likely.”


“And if it isn't a boy?”


“Then, all the same, you must make the most of it. It will be his firstborn either way… which men tend to be fond of. It will be a constant bridge between you and him. Given his nature, I wager he would take pride in a strong boy and spoil a beautiful daughter. No matter which, if this child is fostered to have the proper wits and the father comes to love the child, you might be queen of some sort yet… if you play the right way.”


“If he is twice as brazen as his father and believe himself to be a God, then he might take a second wife, after all. The Stark girl may encounter an accident and free his hand as well. There are many possibilities.”


“I see.” Margaery nodded, touching her stomach. She felt a stir. “He hinted at such a possiblity, yet I cannot be certain that he meant it.”


“Lead him to that conclusion if his duty is so important. Mayhaps the Faith won't turn against their self-proclaimed ‘Chosen Son’.”


“I'll do what I can.” 


Though, deep down, she had wished that he would accept her without all the scheming and plotting. That was simply her duty for the betterment and advancement of her family. Yet, it needn't be so…


You took me not as someone wanting to be queen, but rather a girl who had merely fallen for you.


Had it not been for your duty and the chain your father gave you, would it still be Arya Stark wearing the laurel? 


Was your drunken affection without some base of truth…


Margaery wondered to herself.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Status Page


Name: Edric Storm


Age: 12


Lord

Charm: 75 (Diplomat III)

Leadership: 66 (Inspiring Leader II)

Steward: 47 (Midas Touch I)


Warrior

Athletics: 95 (Titan IV)

Battle Instincts: 79 (Hyper Focus III)

Warhammer: 73 (Thunderous Warhammer III - Warhammer blows have an even greater impact.)


Knight

Sword: 80 (Swordskill IV - Your sword is able to pierce through lighter armour more effectively, and each attack takes less stamina drain.)

Riding: 80 (Riding III)

Armour: 71 (Fortress III - Heavy armour is even more effective)


Ranger

Marksman: 112 (Sniper V)

Scouting: 70 (Scouting III)

Throwing: 83 (Throwing IV)


Smith

Blacksmithing: 32 (Blacksmithing I)

Engineering: 56 (Engineering II)


Stranger

Roguery: 23 (Serpent I)

Trade: 24 (Merchant I)

Medicine: 19


Mage

Storm Manipulation: 43 (Stormlord II: Hand of the Storm - Able to draw from elements of the Storm more naturally, especially in places where these elements are most prominent.)

Greenseer: 10


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


[Edric’s POV, 1st]


“The wildlings make for good and easy experience, at least,” I said, feeling good about the surge in my marksman skill. I stared at athletics, intently. That sweet 100 was not so far away now. If I pushed myself, I might be able to reach it in this campaign…


“Anyway, what happened? Did I fall asleep?” I questioned, turning to Raiden.


“You did blank out.” She nodded. “Do not be concerned, however. All is well.”


“Truth be told, I don’t have enough time to be wasting it with those wildlings. Especially if they plan to be on the defensive…”


“You have a plan to scatter them?”


“Why, of course.” I grinned as it came to me. “Wildlings can’t unite together like this ordinarily. It’s Mance Rayder who gathered them. His strength and leadership is what keeps them. If he falls in dramatic fashion, they’ll scatter like leaves in a mighty gust of wind. It’s no different from cutting off one’s head… the rest of the body will fall with it.”


“He will be well defended, however,” Raiden remarked. “It will be a gamble to leave the defence of the Wall and attack them on land.”


“I’ll map out their camp with Freedom - if they’re still about.” I smiled, seeing the way forward. “You can’t ever prepare for a Storm.”


I’d wake to Mance Rayder sending an envoy who sent word that he wished to negotiate. Curious, I decided to hear him out. He’d leave the forest and stand right outside of my range. I’d need to get lucky to knock him down from there. Clever.


I took twenty of my best men and rode out to meet him. The rest of the stationed men were ready to act at any moment in case Mance pulls something out of his ass. 


We met somewhere in the middle, with similar numbers. It didn’t look like he had come with the intention to fight. There was a blonde in his ranks who caught my eye as I realised who it was. ‘Wildling princess’ was a befitting title; she stood out like a jewel in a sea of pebbles.


[Edric’s POV, 3rd]


“So you are the King beneath the wall.” Mance Rayder stepped forward. “I trust you have some sense of honour. Enough not to strike me down here.”


“It would be the wiser course of action.” Edric raised his left hand, lightning sparking around it. This unsettled the wildling guards, some of whom raised their weapons. “No use in raising your arms, truth be told. If I wished - your corpses would be kissing the ice in just a moment.”


“Is this meant to frighten us?” Mance Rayder looked confident and unwavering, not even blinking at my little sparkles. Alas, they were but sparkles. Thunder and lightning were something else entirely.


“Don’t put up a front of confidence, ‘King-Beyond-The-Wall’,” Edric spoke the title with a tone of mockery. “You’ve doomed how many of your men already… eight thousand, ten thousand - more than that? You have no more giants to throw at the gate and no progress at all to show for this mountain of bloody sacrifice. If you kneel along with your forces, choose to submit to my peace and laws… I might just find a place for you beneath the wall.”


This suggestion seemed to shock the people behind him.


“Wildlings, past the wall?” Loras murmured in a low voice. “Your Grace… they can’t be trusted.”


“Free folk do not kneel,” Val spoke first, leading to Edric glancing at her.


“Does she speak for you, ‘King’?” He looked at Mance with a slight smile. 


“Val speaks the truth.” Mance Rayder shook his head. “You can keep your laws, taxes and peace to yourself. Our freedom is not something I can give to you.”


Edric looked down at the ‘King’ with a cold indifference.


He wondered if the wildlings were worth the trouble in the first place…

God Of Forges Chapter 4: Eruption

It was the one good piece of news he got in three, maybe even four years. The funny thing about it all was that if he remained on the same trajectory he was at eleven years old, he’d easily be a Dou Master - perhaps verging on a Dou Grandmaster, even. No matter how much she disliked his appearance, she would have likely accepted it. 

Xiao Jian wondered if his fall off was, in fact, more of a blessing than a curse. If she accepted the marriage, he would be more hard-pressed to reject her because that would mean angering the much stronger Nalan Clan and Misty Cloud Sect that backed her.

He entered the hall and noticed that there wasn’t even a seat for him.

“Ohh, I truly am sorry. I can’t believe that I forgot about young master. Hehe, I’ll go get someone to prepare a chair!” The second elder smiled at the staring XIao Zhan. The elder had patted his forehead, ‘self-criticising’ himself, yet there was a clear look of disdain in his eyes. “A big one, of course! Our young master is no small boy…”

Xiao Jian looked around and smiled, deciding to stand at the table.

“That is not necessary, second elder. I will stand at the table.”

“That would be quite improper, young master.”

“I’m an improper person, then.” Xiao Jian gave him a nonchalant glare. “Can’t be much worse than a red-skinned demon, surely.”

Nalan Yanran looked at the young man, finding his growth baffling. His rash-like skin had fully spread across his body and evolved into a more pleasing colour, forming an almost exotic crimson-coloured layer of skin. He was over twice as tall, standing at a towering seven feet, and all of the fat from before was practically all muscle. His physique was the best that she’d ever seen… he was a volcanic mountain of a young man with the confidence to match. For a brief moment, she began to question if her coming here was all that good of an idea.

Alas, she remembered that he was nothing more than a cripple. 

When he locked his eye on her, she jumped slightly.

“It's been a while, fiancee.” He gave her a slight smile. “Did you come here to cancel our engagement?”

Xiao Zhan turned to his son, frowning at his nonchalant and blunt attitude. “Jian’er, this is not the time to speak this way. Besides, that cannot be the reason they have come all this way. The engagement was made before you were born, and it is one General Nalan intended to complete-”

“Ahem.” Ge Ye cleared his throat. “I’m afraid that Xiao Jian is not too far off, as-”

“KA!”

The jade cup in Xiao Zhan’s hands turned into nothing but dust in an instant.

The entire main hall grew silent. The three clan elders were shocked by what Ge Ye had just said, only for their shock to dissipate into ridicule for the clan leader. Almost everyone looked at Xiao Jian with distaste and mockery. Not only was he a cripple and freak, but his own fiancee came to break their engagement.

Xiao Jian looked completely unphased, keeping his smile - his diamond-cutting chin looking as sharp as ever.

This was a good day for him.

Though, he was not fond of the disrespect it earned his father.

“Leader Xiao, I know that this request is a little over the top, but because the faction leader requested it, please cancel the marriage…” Ge Ye spoke more softly this time, almost in a whisper. “As the faction leader is expecting Yanran to be the next faction leader, she cannot have a relation with another male before she becomes the official clan leader. It is one of the Misty Cloud Sect’s rules-”

Xiao Zhan’s hands curled into fists as he rose to his feet. A faint green Dou Qi slowly creeped over his body and finally, it formed an illusory lion’s head in front of Xiao Zhan’s face.

Xiao Clan’s secret Qi Method: Furious Lon’s Rage! Level: Middle Black!

Looking at Xiao Zhan’s reaction, Ge Ye’s face became serious. He stepped in front of Nalan and released small but sharp illusory swords of green Dou Qi.

Faction of Misty Clloud’s Qi Method: Green Wood Sword! Level: Low Black!

With the release of such intense Dou Qi, the youths within the main hall began to pale. Xiao Jian looked with a slight frown as this entire affair seemed to blow over. When Xiao Zhan’s breathing became more intense, the elders yelled out at the top of their lungs.

“Xiao Zhan, STOP! Don’t forget, you’re the clan leader of the Xiao Clan!”

Xiao Zhan stiffened, and the Dou Qi on his body disappeared slowly.

He fell back in his chair and emotionlessly watched the lowered head of Yanran. Finally, he spoke in a raspy tone: “Nalan, you have some guts. With such a daughter, I’m really envious of Nalan Su.”

Nalan Yanran twitched.

“Uncle Xiao…”

“No! Call me Clan Leader Xiao from now on. I don’t deserve to be called uncle; you’re the future faction leader of the Faction of Misty Clouds. In the future, you’ll probably be one of the most important people in the Dou Qi mainland. My Xiao Jian only has modest talent, and some gifts in smithing - he doesn’t deserve you…”

“...” Xiao Jian found himself being angrier than he thought he would be. Not at his father’s remark - because he knew he didn’t mean it and was only trying to brush Nalan Yanran off. Because of him, his father had to take a fall. He clenched his fist, only briefly. “Nalan Yanran, you do remember what I said eight years ago, didn’t you?”

“... Yes.” Nalan Yanran took a deep breath.

Xiao Zhan, Ge Ye, and the entire hall had bewildered expressions.

“Nothing has changed since then.” Xiao Jian managed to smile. “Or, for a brief time, did you doubt yourself? When you heard that I was a four-star Dou Practitioner at eleven?”

“...”

He could see the truth in her eyes. He was the Jia Ma Empire’s most brilliant rising star, a household name! How could she have denied him then? Her own Misty Cloud Sect was desperately trying to recruit him, for that matter…

“It doesn’t matter now.” Xiao Jian smiled slightly. “I’m a cripple, and you’re the future faction leader of some big-shot sect. I won’t insult you, or hold any grudges… because I’m thankful, from the bottom of my heart. Truly. Because of you, I am free to marry someone I truly love, should I ever find that person.”

“...” Nalan Yanran raised a slight eyebrow. This Xiao Jian was as strange as ever, yet she found his speech strangely touching. She regretted being so upfront about the matter… perhaps there was a better way of doing it without Xiao Zhan losing respect.

“Don’t be angry, father.” He turned to Xiao Zhan. “Her cancelling the engagement is more of a mutual affair… something that we agreed upon all those years ago. Since the marriage is between us, shouldn’t it happening depend on us as well? If we both agree to break free, then no one in the world should have the power to force us to be together. Not even our grandfathers, who made this pact.”

“This is my wish as much as it is hers.”

“...” Xiao Zhan sighed, hearing his sincere words. “Jian’er… if that is what you wish, I will not fight for it.”

“Then it’s all settled.” Xiao Jian smiled, looking at Nalan Yanran as he whipped out a contract out of his pocket. “I had this ready to go… I just need your signature.”

She blinked, bewildered. ‘He had been keeping a contract on him all this time?’

Nevertheless, she signed it… hesitating slightly.

After she was done, Xiao Jian grinned and withdrew a gun-like tool from his belt. He fired the trigger at Nalan Yanran as a confetti of red hearts sprayed all over her. She opened her mouth slightly in surprise.

“Congratulations to the both of us!” He laughed while the main hall looked as confused as she was. “We can move on with our lives. Good luck on all of your future endeavours, Nalan Yanran.”

“You as well.” Nalan Yanran looked away.

“Man, this guy’s copium is through the roof.” One of the Xiao Clan’s youths remarked. “Such a beautiful girl and taleneted broke her engagement with him, yet he manages to laugh at it.”

“Xiao Jian always had a screw loose…”

“I doubt he’s all that happy; he’s just smiling the pain away.”

“There is one more thing…” Nalan Yanran turned to the side, where Ge Ye presented a jade box.

“This is a Qi Gathering Powder refined by the great Pill King Gu He-”

“We don’t want it!” Xiao Jian shouted first, his deep, draconic voice striking like thunder. Up to this point, he had spoken with a gentle and kind tone… but this… was like comparing a still lake to the eruption of a volcano! He smiled after everyone grew silent. “I appreciate the gesture, but this Qi Gathering Powder… it’s rather pointless.”

“Did Xiao Jian slip and hit his head against a boulder this morning?” One of the Xiao Clan youths whispered.

“... Jian’er is right. We will not take your gift.” Xiao Zhan waved it off. “After all, there are no more relations between the Nalan Family and Xiao Clan.”

“... One more thing.” Xiao Jian drew Dragonheart, its enchanting black blade stealing the lustre of the hall. “While I do not care for those who insult me… red-skinned demon, cripple, useless trash, one-eyed Xiao… I can tolerate every last one without fail! You could say it behind my back, to my face, from dusk till dawn… I don’t give a single flying fuck about that! But…”

He stabbed his sword right through the table, startling a few of the Xiao Clan members.

“I cannot tolerate any insults to my father!” 

He tightened his grip, fire sprouting from the blade. His breath grew heavy and slow… a flicker of fire leaving his mouth… a flicker that grew into a breath of fire!

“Physical manifestation of fire…!?”

“Did Xiao Jian just breathe fire!?”

“Every last ridicule, mocking quip…” He drew his sword from the table, leaving a burn mark. “I’ll pay it back in full if it’s the last thing that I do! Because I have agreed to break free from the engagement, my father has lost face, yes… but I will redeem every last bit of it and MORE! If I cannot accomplish that…”

“I. AM. NOT. XIAO. JIAN!!!”

He said it with his chest, each word striking like lightning.

After saying his piece, he sheathed his sword and left the main hall without another word.

“This Xiao Jian…” Ge Ye muttered. “If he recovers his talent, he will be an even more frightening monster than before…”

Xiao Zhan had a look of pride on his face. Now that… was his son!

“How could my son possibly be ordinary?” He questioned, just as loud as Xiao Jian had spoken earlier. “He will return to prominence and become the brightest star in the Jia Ma Empire once more! I know it… and when that day comes, the Nalan Family will rue this day!

Nalan Yanran clutched at her robe, a slight frown decorating her face. Since this matter had been her fault, wouldn’t he naturally blame her as well? He did say that he would not hold any grudges…

She sighed, deciding not to think too much about it. He had become a cripple who weakened with each passing day. It was unlikely that he would ever regain his heaven-defying talent.

Meanwhile…

Xiao Jian walked off to the clan’s mountain, deciding to give qi absorption another go.

‘I talked a lot of shit for a glorified cripple…’ He chucked to himself, looking at the sky.

“You’re a crazy kid, alright…”

Suddenly, a wizened, strange voice rang in his ear. Xiao Jian raised an eyebrow, looking around.

God Of Forges Chapter 3: Promise

From then onward, Xiao Xun had become a frequent visitor to his forge.

“Since the necklace was so brilliant, I wish to make another request.”

“Okay… what do you wish for now?”

“A bracelet. I heard items with wood attribute monster cores aid in Dou QI training, so I was wondering if you could make one for me.”

“Sounds like a good investment on your part. Sure, I'll give it my best effort. Though, is there any particular design you have in mind?”

“I trust Brother Xiao Jian to make the best choice in design. As before, I'll pay for the materials and your work.”

“I'll get right to work.”

…

“Brother Xiao Jian, can I touch your skin?”

“My what?-” He raised an eyebrow.

“I'm curious about the texture.”

“... It's like normal skin.”

“I won't believe it until I feel it.”

“Fine.” Xiao Jian presented his right arm, which was growing quite muscular. 

“Hum… you're right. It's a bit on the rough side, but nothing extraordinary. Have you noticed anything strange about it?”

“It's hard to get burns.” Xiao Jian shrugged. “Even when I do, they're barely visible, don't really hurt and fade away quickly.”

“Soooo what Brother Xiao Jian is telling me is that he has a natural resistance and affinity to fire?”

“Something like that, I guess.”

“And people were telling Xun Er that your skin was a curse of sorts when it really is just a blessing. If they knew the truth, they'd be jealous and seek to trade theirs for yours.”

“Maybe.” He chuckled. “You’re the only one who knows so don’t go around spreading the word.”

“I won’t. Your secret is safe with me.”

…

“I brought you some fruits, meat and cold water, Brother Xiao Jian. I know when you start smithing, you get tunnel vision and see nothing else… but your health is really important! How do you expect to smith without any strength?”

“I’ll do that… later. ” Xiao Jian remained focused. “But thank you.”

“When is later, exactly?” Xiao Xun raised an eyebrow. “No, you need a break. You're just trying to look tough while forgetting about your body.”

“Alright, fine.” He put down what he was cooking, letting it cool. “I’ll have a taste.”

He came over and started munching on everything she brought him - very swiftly, as if he hadn’t eaten for days. 

“Well, how is it?”

“Gud, bery good…” Xiao Jian nodded, his mouth full of food. “Thonk you…”

“You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.” She chuckled.

He finished eating and chugged down a litre of water in one go. 

“Sorry… I don’t have the best manners. Thank you, though. I appreciate you coming here with so much tasty food.” Xiao Jian smiled.

…

The fall of that came was slow, yet gradual… four years would go by like the wind.

“Xiao Jian… three-star Dou Disciple - low!”

While Xiao Jian did the same routine that led to his great success - his Dou Qi dipped and dipped. He fell to three-star, two-star, one-star… eventually losing his position as Dou Practitioner. By the time he was fifteen, he had dropped to a three-star Dou Disciple. His smithing had fallen off as a result of this, but not by much as he kept relentlessly working.

A year from the coming-of-age ceremony, his fate seemed all but sealed. The schools and sects that offered him places withdrew their offers, the Xiao Clan swiftly began to openly mock him once more, and he’d even lose the qualifications to stay there.  If he couldn’t reach Dou Disciple 7, he’d be exiled to the Clan’s properties as a worker.

Obviously, he’d perfectly fit as a smith for the clan… but the life of freedom he had dreamed of would have slipped away from his grasp.

This entire time, he didn’t give up on his dream, and kept working… hoping that he could elevate himself right back up again.

Alas, that day never came, and it had affected him deeply. His temper was quicker to light than usual, which he noticed. To counter this, he stayed up in his forge all day and tried to find happiness in his work. Where comfort eaters would eat a mountain of food, he’d forge a mountain of weapons.

Because of this habit, he was absolutely built - muscled like a bull. His physique towered over everyone in the Xiao Clan, even the men, both in height and width.

So… after being dragged out for the Dou Qi assessment, he strolled back into his forge and got to it. 

“Trash… trash… trash…” He struck his hammer against a monster core he bought, though his blows lacked the strength to change the shape. If anything, the backlash from his blows was harming his arm. “So… TRASH!!!”

His arm gave out on the final blow, and he slapped away the monster core in his anger. He tossed away the hammer to, smashing it against his comfort mountain.

“Damn it…”

He let himself fall right to the ground. His long black hair veiled his eyes as he dreaded the life he lived. He didn’t want to be any kind of genius; he just wanted to see himself improve. To see his efforts bear some fruits… but, no, instead, he kept gradually becoming weaker and weaker.

“I’m so trash…”

He almost wanted to cry… that’s how crushing it all was for him. The one thing he cared about, above all else, was fading before his very eyes, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop it. Even worse, there was no explanation for his decline. He was helpless…

He looked to the side and saw his Dragonheart v2, presented in a glass case. It was countless times sharper than the original he made in his first life, yet it maintained its essence with some improvements. Its blade was black and so was most of the sword itself. Parts of it were decorated with gold and at the centre of the guard was a ruby resembling a dragon’s eye. This ruby sphere was, in fact, a level one monster core of the fire attribute harvested from a maturing fire serpent.

He gathered the strength to raise himself up and remove the sword from its case. He then drew it it from its scabbard.

He’d wear the sword everywhere, even sleeping with it. Only when he was smithing would he put it in the case.

It was effectively his child - if he ever had one.

“Is a life like this worth living? If I can never reach the level I was at fucking eleven…” He questioned himself. ‘Father… what would you do?’

He swiftly lowered the sword as the door to his workshop opened.

“Brother Xiao Jian?”

His eye warmed at the sight. 

“You need to learn to knock.” He remarked.

“What were you doing?”

“... I was thinking.” He admitted, looking at the blade which showed no reflection. “Smithing has been my life’s sole goal. Yes, I can still do it, the way I am… but I got a glimpse of the great things I could do with Dou Qi. I saw the world open up. With this fall… it feels like I'll never be able to be the great smith I've dreamt of being.”

“If I can't reach for my dream, then what's the point of it all?”

He wasn't someone who could settle for ordinary, not after seeing the heights he could teach.

“You don't mean it in that way, do you?” Xiao Xun questioned, stepping forward.

“I meant it that way.” Xiao Jian didn't mince his words. “A swift death would've been more painless than this endless struggle for nothing-”

Slap.

She hit him, really hard. Right across the face. He had to tilt his head to the side from the force, feeling it sting.

“So, the only thing that matters to you is smithing?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing else is worth thinking about?”

“I… well.” He looked away, feeling ashamed. “It’s a selfish thought, yeah… but what good would I be to anyone if I couldn't pass the coming-of-age ceremony?”

“And who says you won’t? Even if you don't, there's so much more to live for.”

“Is there?” Xiao Joan scoffed. “The life of a caged bird? I don't want it.”

“The Xiao Jian I knew didn’t throw his hands up and say he can't do it.”

“He wasn't working like I am now. He wasn't working himself to the bone, hoping and praying not to fall down another step.” Xiao Jian turned away. “I try, I truly do… but sometimes it's just so…”

She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her head against his back.

“It will get better.” She said, making him stop mid-sentence. “Just keep trying a little longer for me, alright? One day, all of your hard work will show, and you will be a greater genius than you were ever before.”

“I promise you will.”

Those four words gave him a world of hope. 

He remained still, taking a deep breath.

“It was just a thought, you know.” He took her hands away and freed himself, turning to face her with an eye full of fire. “A really stupid thought… but not one you had to slap me so hard for.”

“It was totally deserved.” She crossed her arms, pouting slightly. “Xiao Jian ge-ge had lost his mind.”

“I can be crazy… sometimes.” He smiled confidently, patting her head. “I really am lucky to have someone like Xun Er by my side to keep me in check, though.”

“Mhm.” She nodded, her eyes looking into his. There was that fire again, rekindled.

“You know, four years ago, when I said that I didn’t see myself getting married…” He glanced to the side, feeling strangely bashful. “My perspective has changed on the matter.”

“Has it?” She gave a slight smile, stroking her chin in curious thought. “What would your wife be like?”

“Uh…” He made a clueless smile. “Gentle, caring, loving and understanding. If I could have someone like that for the rest of my life, I wouldn’t need anyone else.”

He didn’t want to push his feelings onto her, knowing that he was nowhere near her league. But, since she pressed the matter, he decided to dance around the matter a little. Alas, Xiao Xun Er was a bit too smart for that. She knew precisely what he was hinting at… but she didn’t want to be too greedy, either.

“That person might be closer than Brother Xiao Jian thinks.”

“...” He made the slightest of nods, unable to hide his smile. He made himself make a more serious expression before looking at Xiao Xun Er. “It’s easy to think of what you want in life, but much harder to actually be worthy of it. People want to be rich, they want to be strong and respected, they want love… but rarely do they put the effort forward to attain their goals.”

“If that person stood before me, would I be worthy? Would I be strong enough to keep her?” He spoke his thoughts rather openly, looking away. He took Dragonhearts sheath and returned the sword to it, strapping it to his belt. “I think not.”

“...” Xun Er watched with a conflicted expression as he walked away. “Where are you going?”

“My legs need some work.” He glanced back. “After that, I’ll try to absorb Dou Qi again… and again. I’ll keep trying until it works, even if it takes me to my grave. That’s my promise to you.”

She smiled, believing in him wholeheartedly.

~

As Xiao Jian kept his training regiment with a newfound purpose, he didn’t see any progress. Everything he’d absorb would just dissipate. Even so, he didn’t waver and kept fighting the seemingly hopeless battle. 

Before long, the Nalan Family would visit… or, more precisely, Nalan Yanran and elder Ge Ye. Her father and grandfather were nowhere to be seen. 

When he heard of this, Xiao Jian’s grin was not one he tried to hide at all. 

God Of Forges Chapter 2: Smith's Pride

What no one saw coming was Xiao Jian’s immense, law-defying talent. He began mixing his physical training with Dou Qi training, two elements that worked in harmony with one another. Before long, he grew stronger and stronger - his gifts coming into full bloom. In a single year, he leapt from not even having started his Dou Qi training to Dou Disciple 5th Stage. That kind of growth blew everyone away and suddenly all of the ridicule evaporated into thin air. 

In the following year, he was a greater beneficiary of the clan’s resources and reached the ninth stage of Dou Disciple. By his tenth birthday, he was a full-fledged Dou Practitioner. His fame spread out beyond the Wu Tan City and across the Jia Ma Empire as a genius among geniuses. At this point, he was untouchable within the Xiao Clan and many outside forces were looking to recruit him with lucrative deals such as Jia Nan Academy.

By then, his appearance had glowed up subsantially as he was now taller than every boy his age and a good deal of his fat had turned into muscle. In every way imagineable, he was a more desirable prospect. The red skin had even become less of an eyesore and more of a matter of exotic taste.

“It is time to determine your attribute, Jian’er.” Xiao Zhan stroked his beard, presenting a crystal ball to him. “Though you are six years early, the Xiao Clan agreed that keeping you behind would be a waste of your talents and have granted you the right to choose a Qi Method from the Qi Method Pavillion that suits your attribute.”

“Alright.” 

Xiao Jian nodded, excitedly. He was praying for fire. Having seen another coming-of-age ceremony, he knew exactly how it worked. He put his hand on the crystal ball and let his Dou Qi surge. Suddenly, it burst into a ball of flame - almost like an explosion. This fireball swirled, filling the crystall ball. Then, gold rushed from its centre and filled the crystal ball, merging with the fire. The two danced in perfect harmony, creating a yin-yang symbol of radiant gold and crimson flames.

Xiao Zhan watched with eyes as wide as the wilderness. He didn’t know what to make of this. Someone possessing such a strong affinity for two elements was simply unheard of. As such, there wasn’t a Qi Method that even faciliated such an anomaly. 

By the time he left his hand, the crystal ball looked entirely different, as if it were pure gold containing molten fire. This appearance faded very slowly, his dou qi having left quite the imprint.

“So…” Xiao Jian broke the silence, looking just as surprised. This was, no doubt, another one of his blessings. “I can pick between gold and fire?”

“Yes… we do not possess any Qi Method that compliments two attributes. I doubt there’s even one in the entire Dou Mainland.” He let out a happy sigh, patting Xiao Jian’s shoulder. “Your talent is simply too great and extraordinary, Jian’er. For the Xiao Clan, the Nalan Clan, for even the Jia Ma Empire. One day, your name will shake the entire Dou Mainland.”

“Mhm.” Xiao Jian nodded, having already set his sights on becoming the world’s greatest smith. “I’ll take a fire Qi Method, then.”

The best fire Qi Method the Xiao Clan possessed was the Incinerating Flame, which was ranked High Yellow. Naturally, Xiao Zhan ensured that his son got it. From there, he entertained exploring his options - mainly the Jia Nan Academy. He'd definitely get access to a better selection of Dou Qi methods and techniques. Even better, after graduation, he would be free to do what his heart desired.

He wasn't really fond of devoting himself to one single place for his entire life, so pretty much every sect was a no-no. At heart, he truly wanted to explore the world with complete freedom! He could go wherever, do whatever and find his way in this giant world. By travelling the world, he’d gain access to richer metals, beast parts, gain a more prominent reputation by selling his goods world-wide and get to see places outside of this little corner of the continent.

Xiao Jian, in the end, decided to give it a year before making such a big decision. As for what he was intending on doing for the entire year… it was time for smithing!

No more school, no more homework, no more chores… he could focus entirely on his dream.

The following year would breeze by, with Xiao Jian forging hundreds of weapons, tools and armours. He'd sell a good number of them, earning the reputation of someone who forged reliable goods. His skills were practically magical, improving steadily without much guidance except for his own experience and trial and error. Even the Xiao Clan’s guards had all been armed with his creations, making them the best armed in the entire city!

He spent near every waking moment in his forge. He slept there, he ate there, trained there and meditated there. From time to time, he'd go out for some cardio or to sell stuff and grab something he needed… but, other than the occasional distraction, he was there 24/7. 

At the peak of his powers, he was a four-star Dou Practitioner and, unofficially, a two-star smith.

…

“This is the one…” Xiao Jian sharpened his latest project, a fresh sword, against a whetstone. “This is the one… this is the one… this-”

“Is Brother Xiao Jian okay?”

The sudden voice caught him off guard, making Xiao Jian jump and make a small cut on his hand as a result. He looked back, seeing Xiao Xun Er in a beautiful dress that didn't fit his home at all.

They weren't ever all that close until he started putting in that work. Since then, he noticed her watching him - time and time again. Though, Dennis hadn't made any effort to make any friends, she'd often go out of her way to talk to him/

“... Yeah, I was just about to finish up my new sword.” Xiao Jian stood up and glanced at his cut. It was the equivalent of a paper cut to him. “What brings you here?”

“Can I see it?”

“It's not finished yet-”

Before he could blink, she flashed forward and took it - giving the sword a few swings. Her hand traced the blade’s edge. 

“This is high quality.” She turned back to him. “You know, if Brother Xiao Jian worked on making his weapons prettier, they would sell for way more.” 

“I don't care about making pretty stuff right now.” Xiao Jian shook his head. “What matters is the quality of the blade. A sword’s worth is in how well it cuts things… the rest can come after.”

“This one managed to cut Brother Xiao Jian.” She added, her expression changing to a caring one once she noticed the small drop of blood. “It's not too big of a cut, is it?”

“No, it's nothing. Don't worry about it.” He scratched his hair. “Can I have my sword back?”

“Sure.” She returned it to him, stepping back as she caught a whiff of his overbearing odour. She raised a jestful eyebrow. “Have you heard of baths, Brother Xiao Jian?”

“... What’s the point of taking one if I’ll just get dirty again?” Xiao Jian looked sideways. He nudged his head slightly to get a smell of himself. He had smelt worse, for sure. “Besides, who’s the one who came here completely uninvited? I didn’t think I’d be getting a visitor…”

“Why are you always so unfriendly?” Xiao Xun questioned, tilting her head slightly as she held her hands behind her back. “I don’t think you have a single friend in the entire city, let alone the Xiao Clan.”

“And why should I?” Xiao Jian countered, shaking his head. “Now that I’m some kind of genius by their definition, they pretend to like me. I hate that… more than them openly disliking me as some weird red-skinned abomination. At least they were honest then.”

“I don’t see you that way.”

Xiao Jian blinked as Xiao Xun confessed. He didn’t know what to say to that.

“Brother Xiao Jian is the most hardworking person I’ve ever met. Even though he’s really strong and talented, he is never overbearing to those weaker than him. He’s charitable, supporting the Xiao Clan’s guards and struggling merchants with gold. He even got them all fresh armour and weapons for free. He’s also kind and honest, helping the people around him when he can and always so open… like a book.”

“Perhaps that’s the thing I like the most about you. You never act like someone you’re not. As for the red skin… I think it’s pretty and special only to you. You shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”

“... Well.” Dennis almost blushed, feeling awkward. He didn’t remember the last time he got a real compliment that wasn’t related to his ‘genius’. “Thank you, Sister Xiao Xun Er. I appreciate your words.”

“Then… can Brother Xiao Jian take a few requests from me?” She smiled all too charmingly. “I heard you were the best smith in the Wu Tan City already. I’ll pay full price for the materials and work necessary, of course, and more if your craftsmanship impresses me.”

“... Oh?” Dennis liked the sound of that deal. “Sure, I’ll do my best to meet your expectations and beyond, Sister Xiao Xun Er.”

“First, I’d like something to keep off the summer heat. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Like a bracelet…?” He stroked his chin. “Or a necklace? With some Ice Silver, it would be pretty easy. Buuut, if you’re paying for the materials… I could try getting an ice or water attribute monster core to make it far more effective. Even in the warmest of summers, you’ll be as cool as ever. Maybe it’ll be a bit too cold, if it’s an ice attribute monster core… especially if it were higher than level one…”

Xiao Xun giggled, breaking his train of thought.

“What?” He blinked. “Did I talk too much? If so…”

“No, I’m just not to used to seeing you this way, is all. Your passion for smithing really is one of a kind. It’s no wonder you became the best in barely a year.”

“Well, yeah… it’s my favourite pastime. The life I want to live. Not because of the money or anything, but because it’s the thing I love doing the most. I want to forge the best weapons, armour and tools the world has ever seen.”

He also wanted to carry on his father’s legacy, though that’s the one thing he couldn’t entirely be honest about. 

“I didn’t think you were that ambitious.” 

“I might never get there…” Dennis shrugged. “But I’ll sure as hell give my dream all I have.”

“I believe you will.” Xiao Xun looked into the fire in his left eye, nodding earnestly. 

“One step at a time.” Dennis’ eyes lit up. “By the way, how much money do you have to spend?”

“It shouldn’t be much of an issue, Brother Xiao Jian… I’ll give as much as you need.”

‘How rich is she?’ Dennis blinked in bewilderment. Though, he saw this as an opportunity to stretch his own limits. “Alright, then. What do you want me to make first?”

“I like the sound of a necklace.” She looked at him and then at his various creations. “Though, it can’t be plain like all the other stuff you make. Appearances are important for girls, you know? The necklace has to be really, really, pretty.”

“No worries; I’ll make the prettiest necklace you’ve ever seen!” 

Xiao Jian took on the challenge ecstatically, his left eye glowing like a golden sun of pure flame. When he made stuff for himself, the quality didn’t matter as much… but when he made stuff for others, especially a commission, it had to be the best work possible; that’s the Smith family’s way!

Though Xiao Xun Er initially doubted his ability to forge pretty jewellery and simply wanted to test him, he proved her all too wrong.

He’d spend days sourcing all the necessary items before forging a couple of tests with lesser materials. After all, he wanted to get the shape and look just right. After three weeks of restless preparation (more so training), where he worked on forging smaller gemstones, he was ready to cook the main dish. He had bought only one ice attribute monster core of the first level, so he had to be particularly careful. Though… this was not his first time working with such monster cores. He shaped it to his desired shape and look within a few days, merging it with blue-coloured gemstones, Ice Silver and a bit of gold. 

After nearly a month, he presented the finished product to Xiao Xun Er.

“Wooow.” 

Her eyes sparkled as she gently took the necklace from him and rested it in her palm. The crescent-shaped Ice Silver frame thinned out to the end, completing a circle. Due to the crescent shape, there was a blue sphere in the middle, which looked like the moon. Within this sphere was the monster core, its coldness spreading out to her entire body. It was the perfect temperature for the hot summer, especially the boiling hot forge in which Xiao Jian worked. The Ice Silver frame itself was engraved with blue gemstones and gold - shaped into tiny little roses, flowers and little moons. 

“It’s beautiful.” She gently touched the cold moon in the middle, which was smooth as silk. “You’re right; it is the most beautiful necklace I’ve ever seen.”

“You think so?” Dennis smiled, scratching his hair. “Well, I did put a lot of work into it… I’m the kind of person to take commissions seriously.”

‘A pleased customer is more than likely a returning one.’ Xiao Jian remembered his father’s teachings all too well.

“I can tell.” Xiao Xun smiled sweetly. “It looks like Brother Xiao Jian can forge pretty things, after all.”

“Well, it was something new to me, so I had to practice a bit to get some things right. Like those little blue roses? Those required such meticulous craftsmanship… I had to make sure the cuts were perfect. With my big hands, it wasn’t easy.” 

“I could imagine.” She chuckled, presenting the necklace to him. “It would be easier if you put it on me, Brother Xiao Jian.”

“Sure thing.”

He undid the chain while she presented her back to him, holding her hair out of the way. He’d wrap it around her neck, closing the chain once more. It was a bit large, giving room for her to grow into it. While he was there, he caught her scent and felt enamoured for a brief second. After retreating, he looked completely composed.

“All done.”

Xiao Xun spun around like a princess, her dress swaying with her. 

“Well, how do I look?” She tilted her head slightly.

“The necklace fits,” Dennis said, speaking his thoughts. “It won’t ever look misplaced with your pale green and blue dresses. Also, it should keep you cool even in a hot summer… unless you go to a volcano or something.”

“Thank you so much, Brother Xiao Jian.” She did well to hide her disappointment. She was expecting him to say a little more… from what she knew, he had never once complimented a girl for her looks. “Your wife in the future will be a very lucky woman.”

“I don’t think I’m getting married anytime soon… or ever, really.”  Dennis shrugged densely. “I’m not really all that much of a romantic. I’d prefer spending time in the forge.”

“Dou Qi mainland is so vast, and someone as brilliant as Brother Xiao Jian is bound to find the right person for him.” She countered, clapping her hands. “Soo… how much did it cost you to make?”

“About 1700 gold… a good part of it was the ice attribute monster core, which is rarer than the common elements.” He told exactly how much it cost him. “Though, admittedly, I used more money than necessary using spare gems for training.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She said cheerfully, putting up ten fingers. “I’ll give you 10,000 gold for this necklace.”

“Ah… isn’t that a bit much?” He scratched his hair. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“No, no… it’s perfectly fine. I insist on rewarding you for all of your hard work.”

“... Thank you.” He looked at the girl, getting a strange feeling he couldn’t quite put his finger on. This was the first time someone outside of his father truly supported him. “I won’t waste any of it.”

“I know you won’t.”

God Of Forges Chapter 1: A New World

Dennis Smith grew up admiring his father, who more than lived up to his surname. Indeed, he was a blacksmith in modern times. Even though the trade had gone somewhat out of fashion in those days, he was very deeply passionate about it. He would make extremely high quality weapon replicas such as Cloud’s Buster or even lightsabers.

Not an actual lightsaber which could slice through almost anything, of course, but something that looked just like the real thing. His dedication to his craft and high quality eventually gained the attention of producers and directors for famous movies and tv shows such as Game of Thrones. 

Dennis would spend most of his time afterschool with his dad at work, learning everything he could from him. He did not find schoolwork appealing in the slightest… but smithing? He could read all sorts of books about it, watch his dad work all day and tire himself to the point of complete exhaustion helping him out. 

He wanted to be just as good as Mr Smith… no, he wanted to be even better. All those elaborate, beautiful and simply jaw-dropping weapons, armour, tools, furniture and even the small things like cooking utensils! He wanted to learn and perfect every aspect of smithing.

It was more than just a hobby or a trade… it was the life he had chosen.

As for his mother, she had died in childbirth. Mr Smith had taken all the parental duties and house chores; teaching, cooking, cleaning, washing, taking him to school and back. He was a reliable, good-hearted, man who smiled often despite his loss. Never once did Dennis see him cry or look even an inch vulnerable. He was strong as a pillar of steel.

He did try dating again… but it went terribly each time as his stepmothers didn’t care for his son even in the slightest. As such, he broke up with each one and eventually gave up. 

“Love is like fire.” He once told Dennis, beating his hammer against iron. “If there is enough charcoal, it will burn bright and for a long time… but without continuous care, the fire will fade.”

“Were you drinking again?” Dennis questioned, raising an eyebrow at his random remark.

“Drinking? No.” Mr Smith smiled, turning to his son. “Have you ever loved a girl?”

“...” Dennis shrugged. “No.”

“How does a handsome, tall and strong lad like you not have a girlfriend yet?”

“They’re all annoying. Besides, I’d rather be smithing than going out on dates and spending my money on overpriced food.”

“Hmm…” Mr Smith showed a hint of a smile. “You’re just like me when I was younger, you know. I didn’t have any girlfriends either. Until I met your mother.”

“You’ve told me a dozen times.”

“She was like an angel. Gentle, caring, loving and understanding. See, the real beauty isn’t what’s on the outside… it’s what is on the inside - and she was more beautiful than any other.” Mr Smith remarked as his eyes glistened like flames. “You were her last gift, Dennis, and I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

“...” Dennis’ eyes wavered a little. To him, those words were worth more than a truckload of pure gold. “Don’t make me cry, you old bastard.”

“There’s nothing stronger in this world than love. It’s the fire in our hearts that drives us to live, to do better, to cherish what we hold dear.” Mr Smith stabbed his sword into the fire and smoke rose up. “Love leads to family, and family… is the most important thing of all. A real man takes care of his family, no matter how much it burdens him.”

“You are my family, dad.” Dennis blinked.

“I will not live forever.” Though warm, Mr Smith’s smile had some pain to it. “None of us do. One day, you will have to find a wife and build your own family. Make sons and daughters who will carry on your name after you. That is more important than anything else, Dennis. Family and legacy.”

“Because after we die, the only thing that is left of us… is our legacy.”

One Mr Smith finished, he looked at Dennis for his reply.

“I will make my own family… one day.” 

Dennis’ tone didn’t sound very convincing, even to himself. He was still a teenager, after all. He didn’t give much care to the more serious aspects of life such as love. He just wanted to smith.

“When you do find a wife, make sure she loves you for who you are… and you do the same.” Mr Smith nodded. “Not your elaborate design, the gemstones on the hilt or shine of your blade. Just who you are. Your steel.”

Mr Smith had a way of speaking when it came to people. In his terms, elaborate design meant appearance, gemstones meant wealth and shine was fame. The strength of the blade itself was what mattered. 

“Yes, Dad.” Dennis sighed. “I’ll get a sweet wife, a cabin by the lake, plenty of annoying little brats, and we’ll live happily ever after.”

“You will understand one day, Dennis.”

…

A long stroke of misfortune would come upon the Smiths not too long after. Mr Smith would die from lung cancer after a long yet futile fight. Dennis couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to.

He walked out of the hospital alone, with the dark gloomy skies of London reflecting his state of mind. He didn’t know what awaited him nor did he want to. The wind was strong, scattering all the litter across the street. He kept walking aimlessly.

Eventually, he returned home and didn't even have the stomach to eat a single thing. He went straight to his father’s workshop and fired up the forge. All of the materials that his father had stacked up had begun to collect dust… but not for long.

Dennis didn’t think, his body moved for him.

Hours would pass as he worked continuously… and those hours would continue to pile on as he worked on a tribute.

‘Legacy…’

He hammered.

‘Legacy. Love. Family.’

CLANG.

‘I’ll make you proud, dad… I’ll make the best sword you've ever seen. Just watch me from heaven.’

He worked on it nonstop, using all the skills he had accumulated and absorbed from his father. He didn't rest, properly. The only thing that stopped him was thirst, hunger and blacking out from time to time. He was completely focused on his weapon’s completion.

When he finally finished it after three days of hardship, a satisfied grin graced his face.

He had forged a most brilliant longsword, whose dark steel had been folded numerous times and sharpened meticulously. By all means, it was an illegal sword he held in his hand that could easily take a civilian’s life. It was not beautiful in the usual sense… but it had its charm.

“Isn't it beautiful?” Dennis questioned, energy fading from his limbs. “I'll call it… Dragonheart.”

“My… sword.”

He collapsed from exhaustion.

…

Only darkness surrounded him.

The next thing he saw was a workshop with a forge. He tried to look down but saw no physical body. He had taken the form of his soul, a blazing red sphere. There was no one with him… no one but a ghastly and colossal figure with absurdly long silver hair. It shined like moonlight and gracefully swayed despite a lack of wind.

A deep layer of black mist covered his face, and a pitch-black cloak adorned his entire body, leaving not a single inch of skin visible. He stood at the very corner of the room, not moving an inch. Not until part of the mist faded… and displayed a pale smirk.

‘Did I… die?’ Dennis’ eyes widened. 

“Dennis Smith, Dennis Smith… Dennis Smith.” The ghastly figure repeated with an eerily soft voice, tossing a clipboard with a piece of paper and black pen his way. “Sign the contract.”

“... Who the fuck are you?” Dennis blinked, raising an eyebrow. “Where am I?”

“I have a great many names, boy. For the sake of simplicity, I am your God…” A finger emerged from its long sleeve, pointing at him. “And I have chosen you, of all beings who exist.”

“Chosen for what?”

“Why, an opportunity to live a second, greater life. Is that not what you seek?” The ghost lowered its finger. “It was inevitable that your mundane life would come to an abrupt end. Whether it was playing hero, overworking yourself or being thrown into an accident of sorts, you would always find yourself here.”

“Why me?” Dennis questioned.

“To entertain me.” The ghost grinned, stepping forward. “You possess an incredibly powerful soul, which, paired with your insurmountable will and absurdly dedicated mind, makes you quite the prospect. All of that talent would be a true waste on such a lowly world where you are chained to a mortal body with such pathetic limits…”

“Now you have only one path before you… complete rebirth. An opportunity to fulfill your boundless potential.”

The clipboard rose from the ground, and he offered it to Dennis directly. He looked down and read the words on it. 

“Choose your blessing out of the options available. They are based on the life that you have lived.”

Blessings:

• Smith

“There’s only one option…” Dennis remarked, raising an eyebrow. “What is there for me to even choose?”

“Ah, yes.” The ghost cackled. “Alas, it does not seem that you were all that versatile of a person. It’s not my fault you only did one thing in your life. Perhaps if you had more passions, you’d have more choices…”

“Go on, tick it.”

“... If I don't?”

“We’re going to awkwardly stare at each other for all of eternity.” The ghost replied, tilting its head slightly. “Does that sound like fun to you?”

“... You’re not my kind of company, unfortunately.” 

“Precisely. Go on. Don’t you want to be the best smith who ever lived?”

“I do.”

“Then… this blessing of mine will set you up nicely.”

Dennis stared at the paper before ticking the Smith blessing.

“Now what?”

“Now you shall be reborn as the incarnation of Vulcan, The God of Fire, Volcanoes, Deserts, Forges, Craftsmanship, Engineering and Metalworking. Your name will spread like wildfire across the world as great masters and mighty emperors kneel to grasp even one item from your forge. That is, if you live long enough to fulfil your potential…”

The clipboard vanished, and the world around him twisted beyond recognition.

“This is farewell, for now… little Vulcan.”

~

[1st Person, Dennis pov]

It's as if I was cursed to never know what having a mother was like. By the time I gained consciousness at the age of seven, she had already been dead for three years. The only thing that she had left behind was a black ring.

It was strange, how I got reincarnated. It was always me… yet I didn't have control over my actions. Sort of like when you're a baby. I still had some memories, of course, but most of it was pretty blurry.

I was born as Xiao Jian, the third son of the Xiao Clan’s Leader, Xiao Zhan. Everything was ancient Chinese here. Definitely not my first choice in terms of culture; I was always more of a European person. English, mainly.

Buuut… I did have a soft spot for ancient technology. The whole thing about Dou Qi bewildered me at first. It's basically a leveling system that everyone shares. The higher the level, the more crazy shit you could do.

Since I wanted to smith the best armaments the world had ever seen, I had to reach a level my clansmen could only dream of.

…

[3rd person]

‘Holy shit, I'm a ugly little boy.’

Xiao Jian looked at himself in the mirror. His appearance was not at all that of Dennis Smith. He had gone from a tall, muscular, youth with the most handsome of faces to… a red-skinned monstrosity. Well, monstrosity was maybe a little much but he had extremely few attractive features and countless bad ones.

His skin was a burning red, as if his entire body was covered in a terrible rash. He had been born blind in his right eye and he was absurdly obese. Added insult to injury, he was also short for his age. He also had a large nose that looked like a red mushroom full of black spots and a head that was a bit too big for his body. A little red-faced, fat, goblin. 

It was safe to say that he wasn't getting anymore Valentine’s cards, flowers or chocolates.

‘Bulking season is going crazy.’ Xiao Jian joked about his own physique rather than despairing over it, putting his head down and seeing a quadruple chin. Then he flipped over his shirt and saw a couple rolls. ‘It could be worse… probably.’

Though it was a far cry from his old appearance, Xiao Jian didn't give it as much care as other people would.

“Jian’er, we have guests.”

Xiao Zhen’s voice led to him turning away from the mirror and pulling down his shirt. He turned to the door.

“I’m coming.”

He didn't waste much time getting out and facing his father. It was a strange feeling, having another dad. Xiao Zhan treated him well despite his… deficiencies. Where many fathers would toss him into the fire or leave him in a forest, Xiao Zhan had raised him in earnest as his son.

For that, Xiao Jian was fond of him. He was one of the few, few people who didn't see him as some strange red imp.

He would join his father in welcoming the guests from the Nalan Clan, which included the famed Lionheart Commander of the Jia Ma Empite, his son and granddaughter. She was definitely cute for her age, though Dennis wasn't interested at all. 

Neither was his fiance, for that matter. If anything, a look of disgust mirrored her face as she gave him a glance.

“Ah, so that’s the Xiao Jian I’ve been hearing so much about…” Nalan Jie observed with a slight smile. Dennis didn’t know if he was being made fun of or the man was trying to make light of the situation. “He is well fed, it seems. Leader Xiao, do you know the cause of that particular skin condition?”

“Jian’er was born that way.” Xiao Zhan affirmed. “It does not seem to affect much other than his outer appearance. He is a filial, well-behaved, son.”

“Hmm.” Nalan Jie stroked his beard, looking at Xiao Jian. The boy returned that look, wholly unphased. A deep fire burned in his left eye - a look the elder recognised. “Yes, this one has spirit. I believe that his unknown condition is more of a blessing than a curse… a sign of something extraordinary. In time, he will grow to be a brilliant man.”

Nalan Su, his son and Nalan Yanran’s father, gave Nalan Jie a raised eyebrow. He clearly did not agree with that assessment. How could his daughter marry such a hideous creature?

Xiao Jian only said what was necessary, knowing that most people didn’t like him all that much so he didn’t drag his moment in the spotlight. None of it was his personality, either. He had been effortlessly popular in school before, the kind of person others admired for being fearless, reliable and strong.

The only difference between him then and now was obvious; the appearance God had given him.  While he had all of the negatives, none of the positives had presented themselves… yet. His Smithing ‘blessing’ was neither here nor there. 

At least there was one comfort in it all… the food.

Dennis was shameless in that regard, eating more than his fill.

~

Right after the feast, Xiao Jian took his fat ass to work. Dennis was always fond of being bigger than other kids… only that his size was mostly muscle. In this case, he was only fat. Very, extraordinarily, supremely, fat, for that matter. He knew that extremely intense training from the start would do more harm than good, so he kept it light. Lifting some stuff he could find in his room, pushups, situps… calisthenics were his best friend.

After all of that, he was sweating bullets and felt absolutely exhausted.

He sat down, wiping his sweat.

‘This is a lot harder than I remember it being…’ Xiao Jian thought to himself. He laid down and looking at the ceiling of his bedroom. ‘No pain, no gain - no gain, no smithing.’

He sat right up and did some stretches before running out for some laps.

‘I’ll make you proud, father. I’ll live up to your legacy and be the greatest smith possible.’ He felt his heart tighten with emotion, something that had been extremely rare for him. He didn’t realise how much he had taken his father for granted. ‘You’ll live on through me.’

“Look at the fatty run!”

“Run you red pig, run!”

Xiao Ning laughed, finding Xiao Jian’s body jiggling as he ran all too amusing.

Xiao Jian aired them all out as he was taught to never show weakness. He was used to being revered, however, and being on the other end of that… it was eyeopening. It made him see just how superficial everyone else could be. Though, none of that mattered to the young man. He had a dream to chase and no one in the world was going to stop him.

His passion… his ambition… his purpose… it burned brighter than all else!

For the following days, he had been relentless in his training. He came to realise that, for a seven year old, he had endurance and strength unlike any other. All of that fat wasn’t just for show, either. He could take a crazy beating with all of that fat cushioning him. Though, he didn’t get to see just how durable he was as no one quite pushed him on the edge of fighting. As he saw it, they were just kids being kids. He was the type of person to only fight when it was absolutely necessary… and when it was… he wouldn’t back down at all.

Meanwhile, on the last days of their visit, Nalan Jie hoped for a closer bond between his granddaughter and Xiao Jian - who she was promised to marry. Seeing him put in the work during day and night, the commander felt that his judgement had been right. As such, he sent her after him.

…

“Hugh… hugh…” Xiao Jian took several breaths, feeling his body start to give in for the moment. He had been running like a mad man in one of the Xiao Clan’s gardens - trying to burn off the fat. ‘I hate cardio…’

“You. Xiao Jian.”

Dennis blinked before glancing back to see Nalan Yanran, who spoke to him for the first time. 

“...?”

“My grandfather wished for me to speak to you.” She held her head high, looking down on him. Though, in part, she was as disgusted as she was anxious. Her scoffing confidence had been but a mask. “I have no idea what he sees in you. You’re hideous in every way imagineable, stupid, ill-mannered and your talent is likely not anything all that impressive.”

“...” Dennis nodded with a slight smile. “Yeah.”

“Have some shame.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Should I paint my skin white for you?” Dennis blinked. The question caught her offguard, leading to a moment of silence. “You don’t need to dance around it. I know you don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here, either. Engagements from birth are complete…”

He wanted to say bullshit, but restrained himself.

“Nonsense.” He finally added, shrugging his shoulders. “You don’t like me, and I don’t like you. I was taught that marriage is a sacred bond between two people who love each other more than anything else. Obviously we’ll never get there… so, when I get older and have the power to, I’ll cancel our engagement. Or you can do it, I guess. Doesn’t really matter to me.”

“...” 

Nalan Yanran blinked, confusedly. In her mind, she would be the best thing to ever happen to him. How could he ever get a girl like her otherwise? She came from a powerful background beyond his imagination, was immensely talented and would likely blossom into a great beauty No one like her would ever stooped down to him unless forced by others - which she was. 

His nonchalant attitude about it was truly strange to her. It was the complete opposite of what she expected.

“... You’re not lying?”

“Nah.” He shook his head, looking wholly genuine. “I never lie.”

“... Well, then.” Nalan Yanran composed herself, smiling for the first time since she had seen him. She was high over the moon… imagining a world where she wouldn’t have to be stuck with him. “That would be for the best. I must thank you, Xiao Jian. You are smarter than I ever gave you credit for.”

“... No.” He chuckled. “I’m not smart at all… just a boy who knows right from wrong. I don’t want to make anyone miserable.”

“...” It was strange. For a brief moment, Nalan Yanran questioned herself. Was this Xiao Jian nearly so bad? Then she blinked and took a closer look. Yes, he was that bad. She hadn’t seen a more hideous boy in her life. “Thank you, again.”

He nodded.

She kept her smile as she turned away and happily skipped in the opposite direction. 

Xiao Jian didn’t think much of his fiancee. She was just a little girl tied to him from birth and someone he just couldn’t see himself ever marrying. Gentle, caring, loving and understanding - she didn’t meet any of those four sacred pillars that his father taught him. Of course, she could change, but he didn’t see it happening. 

‘Back to running…’

So, began his training arc. 

Chapter 82: Storm's Arrival

My stay at Winterfell had been short. Before departing, I’d show Bran my type of longshot as promised. After a good ride, I could feel the difference in temperature. Winterfell had been warm and comforting at times, whereas the Kingsroad grew less forgiving. Nevertheless, I was used to it now. 

What I couldn’t get my mind off was the Night King… 

I felt that my warhammer, lightning, or anything I could get my hands on wouldn’t so much as dent him. No, I didn’t just feel that way; I knew it to be true. My body had desired nothing more than to turn back and run as far away as possible. It made me wonder how much the efforts of others truly mattered… if everything fell on me.

If I couldn’t best the Night King, then even if the entire world magically united as one, they’d all just be lambs for the slaughter.

“You have felt dismayed ever since.” Raiden Shogun said in the following night. “Do you not feel up to the task?”

“I will not lie and say that my confidence is greater than it was before.” I managed a smile, shaking my head. “But… if I don’t stand against him, who will? It’s either victory or the end of this world. In a way, it has steeled my determination rather than diminished it. I know how far the gap is and have no reason to feel overconfident.”

“I’ll do everything in my power to bridge that gap and see this through to the bitter end.” I looked at her. “To that end, I need you more than ever, Raiden. I want to be the strongest that I can be, and you’re the only one who knows how to maximise my strengths. You’re the only one who’d know anything about fighting beings like that as well.”

“Is this your way of undoing your resignation?” She questioned.

“Is that what it would take to have your support?” 

“No.” She smiled, shaking her head. “You’d make for an awful retainer, Edric Storm. You have a king’s pride - one that does not allow you to bend easily nor accept actions that you disagree with. In that way, Kujou Sara eclipses you.”

“Unsurprising.”

I nodded, feeling grateful for her remaining by my side. I had been cold at times - perhaps too cold. She had done what she believed was for my betterment, no matter how extreme. While my treatment may have been justified, she could have just as well replied in kind and never helped me again. Yet, she was always there, through thick and thin. 

“You don’t need to say it,” Raiden said, as if she had just read my mind. “I will do what I can to prepare you for that fateful day… as I’ve been doing. Do you truly believe I’d hold back on you?”

“... Well.” I shrugged. “It’s more of a motivational speech kind of thing, you know? Something to kick me into my highest gear and wash off the dread. Mayhaps it motivated you, too.”

“You do love those speeches of yours.” Raiden acknowledged with a slight smile. “I will admit that your words flow with charisma. Alas, I have no need for further motivation. I have one dream that is a greater source of incentive and action than any other.”

She offered her hand.

“What now?” I blinked. “Better not be another extended nap.”

“Better not be?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow. “You nestled on my thighs rather comfortably, I’ll have you know.”

“...” I chuckled, shrugging my shoulders “Well, the pillows were soft. How could I not sleep soundly after being on the road for so long?”

“You got a little too comfortable, I might add.”

“And what did I do, exactly?” I blinked, feeling a little embarrassed. I almost didn’t want to know.

“My little secret.” She said, suggestively. “Anyway… I will teach you something new. It may be difficult to grasp at your level, but it’s well worth the struggle if you manage it. You’ll be able to fight with greater strength, endurance and sustainability.”

Part of me was supremely curious, seeking to realise the truth behind this ‘little secret’, but she had changed the topic, and I wasn’t going to linger on it. There was a chance that it wasn’t all that big of a deal and she was just teasing me, too. 

“I’m all for learning new things.” I stroked my chin. “In regards to that… Is it an electro technique?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Even better.”

…

The little break at Winterfell didn’t just help me regain my strength. The rest of my men were better for it, too. We rode swiftly, day by day. We were a tad bit faster after letting go of Sansa, who had not been very fond of such a rapid and unforgiving pace. 

It was not long until the Wall loomed large - and larger still, the closer we came. It was a world wonder, undoubtedly, and I was rather eager to stand on top of it. 

On the dawn of the first day of 300 AC, I’d do just that.

~

[Arya’s POV]

It was the first day of the new year when they rode into Castle Black, Edric leading the charge. The last couple of hours, they had been pushing forward for that final stretch of land. Arya would watch Edric leave his horse first before helping her down. Then, he’d turn to the north men around him.

“It’s the bloody King!” A man wearing the arms of House Umber let out a roar.

More and more men gathered, despite the distant sounds of battle up top. Arya looked up at the wall, enamoured by its sheer size. How could a wall like that ever be breached by an army? As long as they had enough men to man it, even a hundred thousand wildlings wasn’t enough. Then again… it stretched far and wide. The number of men needed to man each part of it properly was not small.

“What is the state of the Wall?” Edric immediately questioned, his blue glowing as if he had woken.

“We’re holding them off, Your Grace… but there’s just so many o’ them everywhere down below. Then there’s those giant cunts. Their arrows are like scorpion bolts.”

“Who is leading the defence?”

“Lord Robb is. He’s at the top of the Wall, Your Grace.”

“We shall join him.” 

Edric left her to the iron cage that was attached to a winch as he raced the switchback stairs, looking all too pleased to be in a battle again. Meanwhile, Arya was accompanied by Tyrion Lannister, Brienne and some other men who were secretly afraid of climbing the stairs. It elevated them upwards, reminding Arya of the Eyrie’s oaken baskets. It felt like a century in there… slowly sliding up and up.

“I wonder if I shall see my brother up there.” Tyrion mused, breaking the silence that had washed over everyone. “He was scarcely ever fond of archery, though he would hardly have a choice this high up. Mayhaps he’d be throwing rocks or blocks of ice…”

“We will see quite the display from our King, of that I am certain,” Tyrion added, changing the subject. “There is no better place for an archer of his skill.”

Arya didn’t pretend to be fond of the dwarf, for it had been the Lannisters who took her father’s life. His appearance wasn’t doing him any favours, either. 

“A difficult crowd,” Tyrion remarked.

“Just because you can talk doesn’t mean you should,” Brienne replied. 

“This will be a dull time, it seems.” Tyrion didn’t look too offended, shrugging off her remark.

By the time they reached the top of the wall, Edric was already speaking with her brothers. 

“They’ve stretched themselves across the Wall, using their greater numbers to make an attempt at climbing the less defended parts while splitting into three greater armies to attack the unsealed gates,” Robb informed Edric, looking rather tired. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “We’re stretched thin, and while the gate of Castle Black will stand, I am not so certain of the other two… especially Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. They’re attacking that castle on three fronts, from what I hear.”

“And you said you’d handle everything on your own in the letter,” Arya added, stepping in.

“... We are doing well enough, so far,” Robb said, confidently.

“Arya… it really is you.” Jon’s face lit up as he saw her, swiftly moving in for a warm and tight embrace. “How have you been? It feels like a hundred years since I last saw you.”

“Well, lots of things happened…”

Shew…

"AHHHHHH!"

A massive arrow, which was more like a sharpened plank, struck one of the men and sent him flying into the air - screaming. For a moment, they had all forgotten that there was a battle to fight. Edric removed his dragonbone longbow from his back immediately after, turning to the other side of the wall.

“How about we spare the merry reunion for when we have a moment of peace?” 

“Yes, Your Grace.” Jon dutifully stepped back, taking his own longbow. 

Robb nodded, his cheery expression turning serious.

Arya joined them, looking down. She saw an army so vast she couldn’t even begin to count how many were down there. They were small, like ants sprawled all across the land. As far as she could see, they were trying to climb the wall at every point while a great force of wildlings attacked the gate with a ram. The ram was also protected with a turtle, making it difficult to fire on the men operating it.

One of the giants fired once again… and that arrow went straight for Edric.

He stood still and calm as a lake at dawn. He was completely unphased.

The arrow suddenly stopped only a couple metres away from him. A strong gust of wind went over Edric as his hair swayed wildly, pushing several men a step back while he remained perfectly still. Arya had almost fallen down onto the ice herself. It was rather slippery.

He raised his hand, and the arrow followed his gesture, pointing downwards at the battering ram. The shaft burst with lightning in an instant, shooting downwards like a bolt of lightning.

BANG.

The turtle exploded while the battering ram below burst into flame, along with most of the men below.

Jon and Robb both looked completely dumbstruck - along with most of everyone there. Arya was the least surprised of them all, yet even she hadn’t seen him wield his magic so effortlessly. At that moment, he looked more like a God than man - bending the forces of nature to his will.

“They shall rue the day they decided to invade my Realm.”

Edric had determined, grabbing a shaft from his quiver and eyeing one of the giants firing arrows at the battlements. 

That giant wouldn’t live for ten seconds longer.

~

[Lil Mance POV]

Mance Rayder observed the ensuing chaos, his eyes widening as the battering ram burst into flames. He couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed. Suddenly, the sky darkened greatly—the morning sun fading under an ominous, thick veil of grey clouds. Thunder boomed in the skies, its sound deafening.

This sudden change unsettled him greatly.