--- 288 AC

"Left," said Dany giggling "now it is the right," she added with a clap, amused at the show I was putting for her.

It had been weeks since I recruited Wat and Wat to work for me and all I could pull off was a party trick. As it turned out, I lost the color in one of my eyes whenever I cast a spell, an effect that I was sure was tied to my soul pouring out of my body. The fact that I lost the depth perception should have been pretty obvious, I was often more focused on the spells themselves. The show had Skinchangers gain cloudy eyes, though the books never mentioned that as a physical effect, even if it made sense given that eyes were said to be the window to the soul.

With a bit of practice, I could control which eye got clouded when casting a spell, something that I had Dany help with, mostly as an excuse to spend time with her and teach her to see past Magical Influences, just in case. I was not training her in anything overtly magical until she was old enough... at least around ten, but this was a trick that would help her in the future.

Speaking of my newest recruits... Wat and Wat were... `Gods this is confusing` I thought before deciding to follow the wisdom of my elders. Taking a book from Olenna Tyrell, the Lefty and Right were physically not impressive in any way or form. They looked similar with brown hair and brown eyes. Their features were not really impressive and compared to me or Dany, they could simply blend into the background when not talking. That being said, both had their distinct advantages.

The Wat... the one with common sense, as that was the best way to distinguish between the two, was simply dubbed Lefty. He had a sharp mind and worked hard enough to impress Ser Willem. He was the brains of the two. He was also smart enough to understand that I had some sort of magic and I was dangerous and the best way to not be on my path of destruction was to stand with me.

The Wat... the one without common sense was dubbed Righty. He was also possibly the only person I met who could see through whatever perception field that prevented others from noticing that one of my eyes lost its color when I was casting magic. The only problem was that he did not have any ounce of cunning, even if I would not call him simple-minded in any way. That being said, he may have some magic so my curiosity meant that I would let them work for me.

Constant use of Surface Level Legilimency on them and their families was a necessary evil. The two knew each other from childhood and some of the events that Righty managed to get out of suggested that he must have some form of magic. The fact that he was the reason they decided to visit relatives nearly a week's journey away from Gulltown just before the Siege of Gulltown at the start of Robert's Rebellion suggested either that he could use Divination, or something guided them... options that I never found a way to distinguish.

I knew that there had been some sort of a war, though I had thought Jon Arryn would have prevented certain acts... a belief that seemed to be proven wrong, given that he had stood by after what Lannisters did to Elia and her children. The Wats have returned to learn both their fathers, fortunately not named Wat, had been conscripted into the city defense, dying in the siege. Given that everything they owned was also gone, taken or burned, they had nothing keeping them in Gulltown. It was different, seeing the experiences of common folk when the high lords played their games... even when the ones who supposedly have honor. With only their lives, they had decided to risk coming to Braavos, knowing that they would certainly die in Gulltown come winter and deciding to risk it in a place untouched by the war and did not allow slavery.

The rest of their story was simple, failing to get jobs to feed their families, the coming of winter and the two had ended up being dragged in with the bandits. While they were not innocent by any measure, beggars could not be choosers and all that. The other two men Ser Richard and I had gotten rid of through cremation, their souls bound to two pieces of dragonglass during the burning.

It was not the most direct way of soul binding, but the method that I reverse-engineered from what I knew about White Walkers and inspired by the Soul Gems of Skyrim had me develop the most efficient method of storing souls for later use that I could find out.

Granted, I did not actually explain that I trapped the souls of the dead men into a piece of dragonglass. While they were afraid of my use of fire to cut a man's head off, the end result was close enough to what a normal person with a sword could do and I did not wish to actually scare the shit out of my new man by threatening their immortal souls. They did not have any intention of betraying me, their thoughts were influenced by the blame they held against Jon Arryn and all the lords who rebelled, a desperation to live and a belief that running into me was the will of the gods.

My decision to recruit them was mostly a reaction to my want to avoid more killing, an act that I did not enjoy even if I could do it if it was needed. The comment that Right made was the final nail in the coffin, as I have been trying to figure out what was wrong with my way of thinking that made me overlook dragonglass as a way to explore magic.

Righty's ability to see through illusions was simply fascinating, as he was able to see past anything that was not actually physically real... an ability that took me active control to use.

In hindsight, it made sense that there were people with certain affinities out there, outside the limitations of specific families. Given that Righty were from the Vale, I could only guess that Wat was somehow related to House Royce in some way as that was the closest family with magic to Gulltown... but I was not sure if it was just luck of the draw or genetics or something random that I did not know about. My knowledge about bloodlines and the actual effect they had on those who could wield magic was severely limited and heavily biased by the fact that known records only included noble families and not peasants who had the ability to shoot fireballs out of their arses.

For now, the two provided a bit more security to the girls while Ser Willem and I played the Court Politics, occasionally with Ser Richard acting as my sworn-shield. While they were not really competent in terms of fighting skill, it was fascinating seeing Ser Willem whip the two into shape while also teaching me how to command and train men.

"Enough playing around... get back to the spar." barked Ser Willem, causing me to sigh. This was the punishment I got for forcing the two to work for us, as said training of recruits was mostly done by having the two face me. I put on the padded cap, tying it securely before putting on my helmet.

A moment later, I was in the bailey, a shield strapped to my left arm and a sword in my right.

I blocked the strike with my shield, moving to keep one of them in front of the other to prevent them from rushing me at once, as I slowly took apart their styles with fast jabs, stabs and tight slashes that came from combining Water Dancing and the traditional Westerosi Style. Of the Westerosi styles of fencing, Ser Willem had thought me a relative mix of different approaches, having experienced all types of styles in King's Landing, while Ser Richard has been showing me the distinct Stormlander Style, which I could identify as a close relative of the German Longsword Fencing Methods with the distinctive use of Thumb Grip.

My knowledge of HEMA from my old life was limited to a few concepts and half-remembered videos I watched. It was not much but combined with the instructions of Ser Willem and Syrio, I was competent when faced with untrained masses.

Given that the only two that I often sparred against before the Wats were a trained Knight with battle experience and the man who was charged with representing the Sealord in a duel, my perception of myself was limited. When facing Wat and Wat at the same time, my training seemed to show even if I had to use a bit of magic to match them physically. Even if I knew that I was tall for a twelve-year-old, the two were stronger than me without magic. The small trick I used to make myself stronger and faster seemed to be the only thing keeping the two fully-grown men from beating me in a fight but it also allowed me to get more practice with the method. It allowed me to go toe-to-toe against the two... even if victory was not always a guarantee.

Sure, the two were not even trained properly and I was essentially spending every day for the three years working myself to the bone when not playing around with Magic or hanging out with Dany, but I had an excuse to be proud of myself... until I watched Ser Richard not even break a sweat as he dismantled the two over fifteen minutes. I was competent, but I think I would rather use magic if it came down to it, mostly because I was far more deadly that way. Any duel or sword fight would be delegated to last resort and on occasions that I was sure to win.

Having more minions to act as guards at home helped ease my mind, especially when it came to the largest party of the year in Braavos and I had to mingle with the aristocracy.

I still had Huan watch over Dany and Lanna, but the two new men at arms, bearing Amulets of Protection that I had made and secretly attuned to myself with a drop of blood each, made for decent enough guards while I was not there. Any person with Magic, like the Alchemist would not see them coming and whatever bullshit ability Righty had would allow them to see through the illusions, as I had also linked the amulets to his blood, in case his magic worked similar to what I suspected with Divination. Anything without magic, Huan could handle or at least give an early warning to me and Nessa knew where the emergency potions were hidden that could melt a knight through his armor while I could rip their minds to shreds even from this distance, one of the many tricks I was able to figure out with my wand, the dragonglass acting similar to how I would expect a glass candle to work.

Hence why we had a chance to go out and mingle without too much worry. Sure, every five minutes or so I blinked longer than usual, as a way to hide the fact that I was keeping an eye on my sister but that was still a proper level of paranoia.

The Uncloaking of Uthero... it was the largest festival in Braavos where who is who got into all types of shenanigans, hidden behind their masks. If I were a betting man, I would guess at least one orgy was taking place during the ten day festivities and given what I learned from Yna, most of the brothels were overworked.

The mask on my face was not what I would call a functional mask. It was relatively easy to discern my true identity yet elaborate and looking sufficiently rich enough to give the illusion of power. The fact that the man who sold it had named the mask `Wizard` meant I just had to buy it. Apparently, each mask had an identity that made it easier for people to distinguish each other, often linked to their positions and power.

In the end, like every social event, the Uncloaking was also another chance for the rich to make connections, plot things and stab each other in the back. In other words, the perfect opportunity to get people to support me... on paper anyways. While my intentions for Westeros were to not step foot in that hellhole until I could figure out the Killing Curse and Fiendfyre along with Magically Binding Contracts that would rip off the souls of those who violated the terms, I still had to give the image of trying while allowing me to get some more resources for my research. This entire event was meant for me to get the Sealord to allow me access to some of the rarer books he had access to... and the fucker was avoiding me.

`Next person to insult my family in conjunction with Valyrians, I am going to break their mind and make them worse than Hodor` I mentally scowled, undoing the top button of my collar as I stepped out, letting the cooling air hit my face. Sure, insult Aerys to your heart's content, but insult my mother and I will make sure you live the rest of your life as a newt... or at least thinking you are one. I could probably figure out a way to switch the souls of a human and a newt... pretty sure Mirri pulled it off with Drogo and his horse... which made me consider the Maegi one of my favorite people for that fact alone.

My mind turned back to the feast as it were. The subtle mockery of my exile was permissible, but the hidden racism along with whatever perceived power they thought they had over me and mine... was just grating on my nerves after ten days of it. It was not hard to recognize who I was, the silver-blonde hair was an obvious tell with the eyes, along with the short height suggesting my age. I sighed, once more regretting the fact that I could have done something much more productive during these ten days... there were magic experiments to test, spells to perfect, artifacts to make, and cauldrons to blow up.

Weeks have gone and my mind was still more focused on the fact that one of my eyes `dimmed` whenever I was apparently casting magic. It was not what I had expected though it was definitely not a surprise after I learned of the physical effect of magic. The fact that no one else in the know, which included Sers Willem and Richard, Nessa or even to a degree Lanna or Dany noticed it before Wat was... interesting.

Even I only noticed it after my newest minion had pointed it out and I actually looked into a mirror with my Third Eye open. I was not sure if Wat had magic or not, but it was more interesting than the waxed rhetoric about Braavos being superior to `those Westerosi Savages`. While I agreed with the sentiment, they also included me in that insult so I should be justified in giving them permanent constipation or something equally petty. Unfortunately, I was still a novice in the art of permanently causing someone minor annoyance... cutting off limbs, sure, I could get that done... minor jinxes or hexes... still a definite work in progress.

"You sigh like someone tired of other people," said the sultry voice, causing me to turn around from the view of the city and come face to face with... wow.

The girl had a smooth caramel skin and black eyes, she was slightly taller than me, though I could see that it was the way her shoes were made that achieved such effect. Her age was hard to distinguish other than young... maybe a teenager, given that it was hidden behind an opulent mask made from Mother-of-Pearl.

The next thing I noticed was the smell of vanilla with a hint of lilacs. My eyes roamed to her dress, midnight black with jewels, the cut made to amplify her developing curves and make her breasts look larger, augmenting her petite figure. It was the other effect that I noticed however, the candles around her seemed to have a greater glow, framing her in a halo of light that made her hard to ignore.

I blinked a few times, before pulling my entire soul back into my own body. Immediately, everything sharpened to a focus it did not have a moment before, my mind clear and focused, chasing away whatever effect that was happening. My eyes checked her neck, looking for a choker like the ones Red Priestesses might have used, finding nothing.

Nope, her allure had something magical... to a degree but it did not seem to be based on an item. I could still feel... something off, something that pressed into my mind that this person was worth noticing.

"Nonsense, just prefer the company of those with mediocrum of wit in their insults," I retorted without thinking, ignoring the snicker behind me from Richard, behind his full helm. "You hear one insult about dragons, you hear them all."

The giggle made me feel light headed, before I clamped down on my Occlumency, forcing my mind to clear itself. Going through puberty a second time was already a nightmare before this girl used whatever magic to stoke it.

"My, how honest..." she purred, a bit overacting in my opinion "it is refreshing really, all everyone does is wax poetic about themselves or what they see," said the girl who sounded closer to a teenager. "Here is to hope you will not find my wit as dull as others..."

"Maybe they are incapable of breaking out of whatever spell you place them on," I responded... half-teasing. The questioning look was a surprise, making me smirk at something I noticed before the girl before me. A casual surface scan showed she did not have any intent to harm me or have any idea what I actually meant, though she was still curious. Anything more was too deep for me to dredge out of her mind without force. `Fascinating... not even realizing what you are doing to those pour sops.` I thought to myself before asking "I must however ask, what such a lovely lady is doing, unaccompanied and alone?"

"Hmm... my companion, unfortunately, was dull and he may have passed out somewhere in the room. Having heard rumors, I decided to seek out this prince I heard the rumors of... but you will have to do, I suppose," said the girl with a sultry voice. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, as my hand rested on the wand hidden under my sleeve and I could see through the eyes of the bird across the street that Ser Richard had a hand on his sword.

My instincts told me that she herself was not a danger to me, the Legilimency probe supported those instincts and I had used enough Divination to know I was in no danger in the Sealord's Palace for this night, at least nothing planned. Given that this was Planetos, and there was no party without a few deaths... my paranoia was justified with Red Wedding and all the other weddings and feasts where people dropped like butterflies. A hand sign had Ser Richard return to his initial pose of disinterest.

"What sort of rumors?" I asked with a smirk, my right hand howevering over my wand still.

She leaned in, with a conspiratorial whisper "Oh... I heard that there is the Exiled Prince of Westeros would attend and I just had to meet him, you see. He does not go out in public much and I heard so many things about him."

"Is that wise?" I asked, not really expecting people to gossip about me, though it did sort of make sense, given my family. "He may be shunning the public because he is scarred, or possibly malformed... it may be why he hides behind a mask."

"I heard he was a sorcerer who treats with demons and sacrifices children... or so some whisper," she said, playing along. I did not get anything but curiosity from the girl, and she seemed more amused than intent to kill.

"What do you think?" I asked with a smirk. I considered that bit of rumor, filing it away under important for later. I seemed to have more enemies than I thought, given the rumors they are spreading... it sounded like something Septons from the Sept Beyond the Sea might spread... though for whose behest was a question for later.

There was also the chance that the servants gossiped and revealed my hobbies without intending to. Given that most of them only knew bits and pieces, it made sense, though hiding a pot of Weirwood growing in the courtyard of the Mansion that needed regular deposits of pigs blood was hard to justify as anything but magic.

Whatever it was, I would have to handle it later. Suppressing such rumors had a nasty habit of acting as a confirmation for those who would wish to use it, though if it got to the ear of the Spider, I might have to increase the security, as I knew the hate Varys had for Magic... or at least the hate he claimed to have.

"I think men lack the wit to insult properly," she echoed, my mind returning from the thought to the present, a smirk appearing on my face. She presenting her hand before whispering "Until we are unmasked, dear stranger, you may call me... Pearl," her mask catching the glint of the lamps. Amusement danced in her eyes, the color of chocolate.

It also explained why she found the comment about insulting dragons amusing... she was descended from one.

The Black Pearl, possibly the only contact outside of the Iron Bank and Sealord in Braavos that would in some shape or form hold any sympathy for my family, was someone that I had wanted to meet. Not just for familial connections but because the Courtesans of Braavos were an interesting organization that I needed to learn more of. They were as general far beyond the whores in Westeros, being independently wealthy, highly educated and extremely politically connected. There was more to sleeping with men that the Courtesans did, as they held a more celebrity-like status, holding political influence, having playwrights stumble over each other to write plays that were specifically for a specific Courtesan or even have stupid Bravos fighting in the streets with a look alone.

Just the sheer influence and contacts Black Pearl would provide was reason enough to get in contact with her... though my age and lack of resources made it an uphill battle. And now here she was, getting in contact with me out of curiosity... I could use it.

"In that case, you may call me... Wizard, my lovely lady..." I said, bowing with a flourish as was common in Braavos and taking the offered hand and bringing it close to my lips.

I had to say that the girl before me was much more pleasant company than the haughty idiots I had to deal with for the last week and a half... as I found this dance of words almost refreshing... before the girl almost dragged me to the literal dance floor.

"So, are you a wizard with magic powers?" whispered Pearl, pressing herself to me.

"You may say so... how about a trade?" I asked, having observed the girl long enough to notice the effect she had around her.

"What can poor old me trade for such secrets?" pouted Pearl, pulling herself dangerously close to me. I had to clamp down at whatever instincts that seemed to have surfaced in her presence.

It was weird, the effect I was feeling was not normal from my experiences. Other woman did not bring out that much desire and I was sure that it had something magical linked to it... was this the effect Targaryens had that made them attracted to each other? Was this her desire to be the center of attention bringing out emotions in men? The closest thing I could compare it to be would be the Veela Allure from the Harry Potter books.

"You tell me how you think you are making lights stronger around you, and I will tell you how you actually do it," I suggested, guessing that the effect was tied to the effect she had on minds of others.

Arya would describe this woman before me as so lovely that the lamps seemed to burn brighter when she passed. A simple description that did not do justice to the actual effect she had on flames around her, an effect that a part of me had tried to dismiss, though experience allowed me to push through whatever influence was making me not notice effects with obvious magic... the light compulsion to disregard every bit of magic was something that I had noticed significantly after Wat had pointed out the shift in my eye color when casting magic and now, I was able to push through it with ease, having braced myself for it.

"Whatever do you mean?" asked Pearl trying to look innocent. The fact that the lights flickered with her blinking.

My hand brushed the wand attached to my belt, followed by a mental push to those in the room to ignore what I was about to do, a more overt effect to the compulsion to ignore magic that I have recently played around with, I pushed to the flames, causing them to grow dimmer first before making the one closer to her line of sight jump with a thought, matching the beat of the drums... all with a glare to one of the candles that lit the room. I did not even need a wand to do that trick anymore... hah... eat your heart out Dumbledore... you are not the only two-bit hack who can pull such a trick off.

"That is what I mean," I said with a smirk, while Pearl looked genuinely taken aback by what I could do.

Did I overplay my hand... I so rarely got to show off... what with the Wat's having stopped reacting to weird things I got up to with magic. I suppose it was hard to top waving a stick and cutting a man's head off with a blade of fire... or that was how they described my latest cutting curse.

Me revealing or rather confirming my abilities was a risk I had to take. The effect she had on other people was something I needed to learn and the potential alliance was worth revealing something that everyone else would have hard time believing.

A surface scan of her mind showed that she was surprised, curious, slightly afraid and... aroused by the display. Magic had that effect on most Targaryens it would seem... or it was the potential power a person might wield with Magic... I did not know.

A smirk appeared on Pearl's lips, before she leaned in, her body pressing into mine "A true Wizard indeed," she whispered in her sultry voice "whatever shall I do?" she asked, her eyes holding a glint of interest. "Here I thought those poets were being fancy when they said my presence made flames burn brighter," whispered Pearl into my ear, her breath tickling my skin "You are doing it on purpose though... unlike me. Where did you learn it?"

"On my own..." I stated, bragging just a little bit, which was not even incorrect, controlling flames were the next logical step to flame divination and I knew it was possible, which was half the battle "But it is not even the most intriguing part about you my dear Pearl, you are making people notice you by your every breath... not even noticing it."

"No wonder man think you are dangerous..." said Pearl before someone shouted, interrupting her.

"There you are, I was looking all around for you." the man said, his words slurring and his stumbling testament to his intoxication.

I briefly wondered about whichever god was throwing cliches in my direction.

"This is the part where he insults one of us and grabs you," I whispered, loud enough for Pearl to hear. Pearl snorted at my comment, causing the said man to do exactly that.

"Who do you think you are," the man said, pushing me back with a finger, which I simply "she came with me," he said before making a grab for Pearl's arm, which was still over my shoulders.

A mental push to those around us made them ignore the three of us before I snapped the hand that was reaching Pearl. Turning and looking the drunk man straight in the eye. "You want to go back home, sleep off the hangover and rethink how you treat a lady," I stated, pushing my entire mind behind the Compulsion.

The man, or rather the boy really given he could not be anything but a teenager, turned around, stumbling out of the ball room. His mind lacking the inhibitions to resist my commands.

"How did you do that?" asked Pearl, making me smile cryptically.

"I suppose the same way you make people notice you," I said with a hint of amusement at the revealed look Pearl had.

"That was the nephew of the Sealord," she whispered "I was to accompany him during the ball as a favor to him."

"He sounded like a drunkard," I said, having not been impressed.

"And a bore," said Pearl in a bored tone "If I have to hear another boast about the size of his ship..."

I snorted, causing Pearl to giggle as well.

"I suppose I owe you my gratitude for not causing bloodshed. I am sure the Sealord would also appreciate it," said Pearl, linking her arm with mine and guiding us back to the balcony.

"Oh... there would not have been much blood," I said, my words causing her to gulp. If she was aroused by power, I could definitely show her how much power I could truly wield. "Though he would spend some time thinking himself a newt... but no blood."

Pearl seemed to have found it amusing, utterly comfortable with magic. The crowd rippled in excitement. "Oh... I love this part" she said in excitement.

The countdown reminded me of the New Year celebrations in my old life, a nostalgic feeling as the Titan of Braavos roared, announcing the end of the celebration and signaling the uncloaking.

"Bellegere Otherys," she introduced herself with an amused look, having taken off her mask. She was young... younger than I would have thought, though still a few years older than me from what I could tell.

"Viserys Targaryen" I responded with a bow, flourishing my mask like a hat, my exaggeration eliciting a giggle from the girl who was definitely a teenager closer to my age than an actual adult. "It is an honor, to gaze upon the beauty of Legendary Black Pearl," I said, with a smirk, causing Belle to giggle before tilting her head and giggling once more.

"You know the funny thing... my prince?" asked Bellegere, her smirk not leaving her face "I can see in your eyes that you genuinely think of me to be Black Pearl."

"Are you not?" I asked, now genuinely confused.

"That would be my mother... at least for a few more years more." said Bellegere with a self-satisfied smirk "Though I am sure she would find the compliment amusing as well. Please, my friends call me Belle," she added, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You are my friend, are you not, Prince Viserys."

"I suppose it is only fair if you call me Viz," I said with a matching grin.

"Such familiarity, my prince... would that be appropriate?" gasped Belle, pushing a bit with her acting. She was good, the way she moved and acted, no wonder the Courtesans of Braavos had man wrapped around their finger.

"I thought we were friends," I responded, getting a smirk from the girl... before someone screamed.

I closed my eyes with a sigh. It would not be a party if someone did not get shanked it would seem.

A mental command had a bird fly to get a better view of what was going on, as I saw the cause for commotion, I saw the crowd separated by armed guards and I noticed the purple cloak of Syrio, which gave me enough knowledge to know that someone important was attacked. There were two people on the floor, though everyone was focused on a single one.

"Syrio!" I yelled out, moving through the crowd, my wand in my hand enough to provide the field around me that slightly pushed everyone away as I walked. I had not even noticed that Belle had followed, along with Ser Richard, who was ready for a fight.

"Let him through," commanded Syrio Forrel, his voice harsher than any time I heard him before.

"Shit," I said, noticing that the one on the floor bleeding was none other than the Sealord himself.

The blood was a lot... enough for someone with experience like Syrio to know the man was going to die.

"Can you help him?" asked a woman next to the Sealord, putting pressure on the wound. From the color of her skin and the dress that was similar to what Belle was wearing, I could only assume that it was the Black Pearl herself.

I could... probably... maybe.

"Boy?" asked Syrio, his eyes darting around.

`Me and my fucking bleeding heart.` I mentally chided, before getting close. I was not a healer, not a trained one at that. That being said, I did have some first aid training and around a dozen different methods I came up with to use magic for healing... all of them untested on humans.

"Keep the pressure until I say so," I ordered, not bothering with niceties. "I need to cauterize the wound, stop the bleeding," I said, though I was not sure I could do it with just my wand.

I reached behind my belt, to a custom pouch made from hardened leather. Inside was two vials of the Prototype Healing Potion I had, along with the more inert mixtures that would come in handy in a pinch. Just because the damned Healing Potion would leave acid burns did not mean that they could not be of any use. The main problem was that normally, the potion still took hours to close a cut wound... which meant that I had to improvise.

Once ready, I signaled for the woman to take her hands away, pouring the potion into the wound. I could see that the blood was leaking with each heartbeat, suggesting that the wound was either to an artery or something major... a kidney if I had to guess.

`Meh, he has a spare` I mentally shrugged, before sinking into a calm state of mind, letting my instincts guide me as I held what I was planning in the forefront of my mind. Magic was weird and I already knew that there was a Divination based aspect to every spell I cast... especially in the more ritualistic spells that I needed more than my wand.

I pointed my wand and flames engulfed the mixture of potion and blood. Instead of guiding the flames to have a purpose on my own, I pulled it from the potion directly... not dissimilar to how I could pull the concept of fire from dragonglass, a process that I still barely understood. The potion itself held a rather distinct purpose, the way each material helped with healing making up the parts of the whole that were greater in total... a synergy between materials and the soul bound to the potion.

The flames took on that purpose, while I pushed my will into the flames to suppress the less desirable effects, like the way it would burn through flesh... a rather counter-intuitive effect for a Healing Potion.

The flames took a green and yellow hue, different from the fluorescent green of wildfire and much closer to the colors found in leaves. I let the spell be guided by the echo of the potion, accelerating the process using raw spellfire. It was technically a spell, but instead of my knowledge or experience, I was letting the potion handle the heavier load of healing, giving this process a more ritualistic bend.

The wound slowly closed, knitting in a way that the body itself would heal, only much faster... much, much faster. I was not still good at understanding the more transformation-based aspects of magic that I was capable of doing, but this was less changing something and more accelerating the natural healing process. Where before, there was a fresh knife wound, now was a bright red line around which was covered with acid burns, an angry red in color... the cost of the potions and magic leaving a rather distinct scar.

The Sealord was still pale... "He lost a lot of blood," I stated, not having thought of anything to address that on me. I could probably make something in a pinch though... before my mind caught up and without casting a spell, my perception returned. We were still surrounded by onlookers, watching behind the perimeter of guards... far enough to not see exact details, but close enough to notice any overt use of magic.

"He should be good enough to move... I will need to make the watchers forget." I said to Syrio, who understood my need for secrecy. He was observant enough to know that I could do magic, providing some tips and tricks in exchange for learning of ways people could influence minds... so as to not repeat the mess with the Alchemist. He did not know the full extent of my skills but he knew enough to protect himself. Getting up, I reached out to cast another spell, a hand landing over mine that had the wand caused me to snap at the owner, a curse at the tip of my tongue.

"Let them remember," whispered Belle, causing me to calm down. She was looking at me with eyes glinting, "you can use it" she said, probably having overheard my talk with Syrio.

I considered it, knowing that someone trained to take on the title of Black Pearl of Braavos would have more experience with PR than I would. I was more focused on keeping things down but Belle seemed to have some sort of a plot yet a simple Legilimency proved that it was not malicious, politically motivated but not malicious at all. She was cunning enough to know that any rise I might have could come in handy for her as she banked on me feeling grateful for her help. While I could not care for the plots of other people, Belle was the daughter of the Black Pearl, someone I wanted on my side... not discounting that part of me that wanted to bend her over the nearest flat surface that I had been keeping at bay for the last few hours.

From another perspective, I could even see its benefit for me, the Sealord being saved by the last scion of the last Dragonlord of Valyria on the day of Uncloaking would send a certain type of message... so I decided to follow her lead. The more overt aspects of magic would be dismissed, a combination of my wand's Notice-Me-Not Enchantment and that passive field that made everyone not notice magic most of the time.

Any rumor would easily be dismissed by anyone who held power though it would still bring attention to me in some way or form.

So busy in my thoughts, I did not notice when Syrio stepped next to me, before whispering "He lost too much blood". The Sealord was laid on the closest comfortable-looking surface, pale as bone, while what appeared to be a Surgeon had recently come in binding his now-healed wound. "I have seen men who looked less pale not wake up from their sleep. Unless you have something that can refill the blood he lost..."

I nodded, understanding what he meant. "I... I cannot guarantee anything," I warned. "But I may have a way."

While everyone watched over the Sealord, I went to the table to the side, which had some plates with food in them. A silver goblet was my choice, as I lacked the bronze cauldron that I normally used. I was still trying to figure out how certain metals used in cauldrons influenced the potions. Bronze was good for anything I could do, giving a feeling of stability and strength which made the resulting potions stronger and less likely to act up, while Silver specifically had a strengthening effect on healing potions, though each brew caused the silver itself to darken and lose its luster, which was why I did not often use it when experimenting... bronze was simply cheaper to replace and far more likely to last for multiple uses.

I pulled back my sleeves before reaching into the heart, grabbing a couple of burning logs from the center and throwing them around the silver goblet. Someone gasped behind me, not that I cared, as I prepared the materials. The heat from the logs was low but the goblet would still be ruined, either way, so nothing was lost.

I had never created this specific brew but the theory was there and it ought to be safe... probably.

A backup vial of Potion Base from my pouch for starters, followed by a spring of parsley that had decorated one of the plates in the main hall before the raven I had snatched it for me, along with a charred tomato from one of the plates on the table went into the mix.

Each material was one I knew to help with blood production, and so they became part of the improvised Blood Replenishing Potion. I took a cup of half-drunk Dornish Red, pouring it over my own hand that was covered with the Sealord's blood. A few passes with my wand to push my will into the mixture and I had what I wanted.

Taking the goblet that now had a deformed base out of the flame. The metal was cool enough that I could hold it. A mental command had the raven I used as a scout land next to me from the rafters, before taking a sip of the potion I spilled on another cup.

Soul density had some influence on how Magic affected you... which explained why animals did not live in places with high magic concentrations, lacking Magical Resistance to survive places like Asshai. If the potion had any negative effects, the raven would show it faster and its mind was close enough to the intelligence of men that I could tell if there was an unseen effect.

I said, holding out the goblet and checking that the raven was not dead or a molten puddle or something equally likely "This may help him... but I am not certain that it will not cause something worse. It is made to help with the blood loss". I was banking on any incorrect calculation of acidity that would not hurt anything in his stomach while the magic would effectively boost the rate of blood production.

"He will likely die if we do nothing," said Syrio with a shrug "And all man must die." he looked me in the eyes

"Not today though," I said, matching the smirk that came on his face.

"No... not today," said Syrio, taking the goblet from my hands.

Over the next fifteen minutes, I watched, as the Sealord regained some of all the color he had lost, his breathing becoming deeper, his chest moving more clearly. The amount of potion was less than a pint but even that was apparently strong enough to force his body to produce blood cells at a faster rate. He might still die from Blood Cancer or something equally likely because of Magic, but the Sealord would not die today.

"Impressive, young man." said the woman who was tending the Sealord until that moment, having been helping stabilize the Sealord. "Bellonara Otherys."

"Viserys Targaryen... Belle, I did not know you had a sister." I said with a grin, bringing her knuckles over to my lips. The effect of magic was either on my end or it was hereditary as I felt lightheaded, the world around this woman blurring before I could pull my mind back and everything snapped into place.

"Oh my, such a charmer." said the Black Pearl of Braavos looking at her daughter with a knowing look. "And is it Belle already, my daughter is moving fast, isn't she."

"Not really, he thought I was you at first, so he may just not be thinking clearly at all," responded the daughter giving me a knowing look. I turned to respond before noticing something strange. Was she... blushing?

"Flirt with men somewhere else woman" grunted the Surgeon that was now done binding the wound. He turned and looked at us, probably intent on saying more before he stopped and his eyes locked on my face, his face was one that I recognized.

"You..." said the nameless Surgeon who had patched me up.

"It is a small city," I said with a warm smile.

"Ahem..." coughed the Surgeon, clearly shaken "Whatever you did helped him... so good job lad. Not sure what could do it but it seems to have closed off the cut better than any stitch could."

"Your recipe," I responded with a cheeky grin, "I just improved it... Viserys Targaryen."

"Of course you bloody are... Terrio Dimmitis, Court Physician, anything else you did to my charge in the process of saving him?" asked the now-named Terrio.

"Just feed him some ash and water mix if he starts feeling stomach ache," I said with a shrug seeing that the raven who drank the potion first was still alive. "He should be fine in a few days of rest."

"Good, not leave before you attract more trouble." commanded the Court Physician, giving Syrio a glare.

"It is time we shall take our leave as well," said Bellonara, before leaning down and giving a kiss to the Sealord on the lips. The poor man was probably too out of it for it to register... lucky bastard.

"From the way he treats you, you have met Terrio before?" asked the Black Pearl, amused at our interactions.

"Let us say that he patched me up after a spot of trouble," I said with a shrug, the scar on my arm choosing that moment to throb, though it was dull enough that I could ignore it. I watched as the Black Pearl rose to her feet with a grace that made me memorize her every move.

"While I am sure you two would like to spend more time together, I believe that this night has already soured with unpleasantness with drama." said the Black Pearl, ever the picture of grace, despite the blood on her hands that she seemed to ignore. "I shall see you later, Prince Viserys Targaryen... and I am sure dear Belle would love that as well."

I nodded, not really trusting my voice. A hasty exit was the safest option after what happened. I could feel that both of them were shaken from the violence, not strangers to it, certainly but still not used to it.

Belle looked at me for a moment before leaning in and whispering "Until we meet again, my Wizard." before kissing my cheek. "I will have to hear more about how I keep you enchanted by my mere presence," she said with a smirk before turning around and leaving.

"Were you expecting the night to end differently?" asked Ser Richard with a grin, his eyes looking in the same direction as me. "Mayhaps with that lady friend of yours."

"Shut up, Richard," I commanded, getting a snicker in return. I hated that he was right. Given how I already had the intention of getting in contact with the Black Pearl, the mutual attraction would help me. The interest Bellegere had shown me was natural for a teenager who was curious about the unknown. I was unsure how to proceed and would have to play it by the ear for now but an alliance could have many benefits, in the end, I just had to make sure not to be led around by the girl. That being said, the effect she had on me reminded me that I was open to being manipulated, which meant I needed to double my daily Occlumency practice.

"Wouldn't be Planetos without someone getting shanked at a party," I muttered to myself, walking back home.

AN:

In other news, Local Wizard saves the Sealord while struggling with puberty.

Some people have an inborn affinity for certain magics, but the true skill comes in being able to learn the methods which sets Wizerys apart. Wat the Right and possibly Syrio have the ability to see through illusions, while Bellegere has an unconscious control of fire and some sort of an allure. Similarly, there are some characters who are capable of using magic to improve their physical abilities. Robert is inhumanly strong given the hammer he wields, and so is Jon Snow when he is angered. Jamie is said to be fast enough to cut through 10 trained and armored men, most of them nobles who were trained from the day they could walk. This is subtle and there is a subtle perception filter that Wizerys realized that is keeping people from realizing that they are using magic.

In Alchemy, Bronze is "strength and stability", while Silver is linked to "healing and protection". Also Silver reacts with Sulfur, which is what has led to the belief that silver weapons can hurt werewolves and other demonic entities.

Bellegere is the Black Pearl by the time of the books and she is described as young by Arya, so I thought she would be around her mid-twenties by then. For now, she is a teenager a few years older than Viserys. I tried to capture that "Ara Ara" energy with the current Black Pearl... Also, note that Blood of the Dragon seems to have this weird attraction effect on Targaryen's so, there is definitely something weird going on.

Before anyone comments, regarding Lemons... I want to try my hand with them and this would not be an ASOIAF without gratuitous sex. Half the Magical Practices that people come up with utilize sex in some way, so they will be there... not every chapter like some other works on this site but they will be there... eventually.