"Have you bound the blade to yourself yet?" asked Morrigan once our talk was completed, and I started gathering everything I could. The additional enchantments I placed on the lower levels would prevent people from finding it, using the residual magical energy as well as a few twigs of Nightwood and Weirwood.

"Bound to me?" I asked, taking the Valyrian Steel knife out. It had a sharp, smoky pattern that had darkened since I last saw it, pitch-black ripples clashing the pale waves. 'Shadowbound with the souls,' I noted, though not all of it. The best I could tell was that the knife held the souls bound to the faces I burned while the Faceless Men themselves now formed Morrigan. "You mean to tell me that there is a special way to attune to Valyrian Steel?" I asked; the concept was familiar to me, though not in this world. "How?" I asked.

"As any magic of Valyria… Fire and Blood," said Morrigan, explaining the rather simple process. I held the blade, pressing my thumb onto the blade, letting a single bead of blood coat the tip of the black blade.

Next, I called on fire, the dragonglass forming a flame that ran through the edge of the blade, causing the blood to boil and sink into the knife, and I felt something connect to me… like something at the very edge of my mind.

Seeing as the flame leaped from the blade to the cut on my thumb without me controlling it, sealing the small cut and leaving a thin line behind, I hissed. It was not something I minded. I had cut my fingers to give blood for magic more times than I could have counted; the scars were familiar to me, though that did not make them welcome.

"The steel of Valyria has powers unknown to most…" explained Morrigan. "The bond will last so long as you live, or another binds themselves to it."

"I can feel it in my mind, the presence of echoes…." I started closing my eyes and listening, knowing that my use of Occlumency was the only reason why I was not overwhelmed by the echoes within the blade or had some drastic change in my thought process.

I recalled Catelyn Stark's change after being cut by the same blade; her thought process was more compromised.

"So long as you are bound, you are one," said Morrigan. "It is the secret of Dragonlords to be untouched by lesser flames, yet it has limits that change from steel to steel. It shall also act as a shield for your mind from the outside… as your amulet normally does… yet the effect is greater."

"Convenient," I commented. "Weirwood and Nightwood…." I noted, inspecting the smoky pattern on the blade standing so prominently despite the darkened black. To the uninitiated, it was steel a thousand times… yet the finer ripples were closer to Crucible Steel than folded steel. "Is that what it is made out of?" I asked, fascinated by the subject.

"That and more, but that is a secret unknown to me. I had not taken the faces of the Dragon Lords or their Sorcerers… as such an act is dangerous when they have mounts of their own," said Morrigan, making me wonder if there were any such attempts that had been recorded in history that survived Doom. "I know the spells to reforge it, known to a smith of Qohor, yet that shall be a lesson for later… we have company," she declared, turning towards the doors.

I nodded, stashing Morrigan's new vessel, a white skull with glowing eyes, into the satchel by my side, hastily wrapping my arm and my new… tattoo… brand? I would need more time to study it, but it would have to wait for now.

Once outside, I found Wat juggling three balls as the guards looked like they were about to shit their pants while Syrio was staying a distance away.

I had to do a double take and realize that said balls were grenades I had made in case we needed to blow up the House of Black and White as we beat a hasty retreat… in case I missed an assassin or two. "When I said distract them, I did not mean do tricks with explosives," I whispered through gritted teeth as I got close to Wat, who looked at me with a smirk on his face.

"It worked, init… your grace?" asked Wat the Brains, making me sigh. He took out something from his pockets, showing that he had taken the fuses out while saying nothing. It made me sigh in relief before I realized that Black Powder required mixing with blood to activate, and I could still ignite it with a stray thought… or any stray pyromancer could do it with the same trick to pull fire from dragonglass. The fact that I had to cover the grenades with Nightwood and Weirwood to just keep them from being exploded by the thoughts of any Red Priests made it

not something I could mass-produce, but a few for special occasions was something I could afford.

"Your man told us to wait if we did not want to go the way of Faceless Men. Not exactly subtle, is it?" asked Syrio, leaning against the stone wall beneath the stairs.

"Believe it or not, that was subtle," I stated, thinking of multiple faces being burnt off with Sun Fire. "unsubtle would have burned cities off the map instead."

Syrio looked at me for a moment, trying to decide if I was serious. I suppose I did have a reputation to those in the know, more than limited by being the son of the Mad King Aerys. People who wanted to harm me in Braavos tended to disappear into thin air... not to mention that deal with the burned house that belonged to a man no one remembered even existed.

"Just so. Are you sure you got all of them?" asked Syrio, seemingly considering his options and who to side with.

"Distance means nothing to a magic user," I declared, posing while enjoying the way some of the guards took a step back from sheer terror. The subtle threat was really doing more for my odds of getting out of this than an actual confrontation.

"Good riddance, then," said Syrio, his body stiff though he was forcing himself to look relaxed. It was a subtle difference, one I only saw when I managed to land a lucky hint on the Waterdancer in our spars. "May I ask what happened to your arm?" he asked, his eyes drawn to the wrappings as though he could feel something. He seemed less intent on gaining more intel for his boss and more on actual curiosity, like there was something forcing him to pay attention to the injury.

"Half-swording accident," I said cryptically, waving the wrapped arm nonchalantly. Syrio blinked, his thick brows raised as he tried to comprehend how what I said was technically correct.

He probably, correctly assumed that it was related to the spell I did, which worked for me. If people in the know thought that the cost was too high for such a thing, they would assume it was a one-off and go about their lives. I could probably cast the spell again, but the number of factors required to be able to specifically target a single group of individuals would be next to impossible. I had combined Memory, Blood, and Name, using them all to target a 'No-one' that happened to be multiple people. The closest I could think were the Undying, and even they spread around their Shade of the Evening to those outside their organization. "Are you here to arrest me or attack me?" I asked directly, as Syrio was not the type to deceive.

"And meet our gods? No… not today," said Syrio Forrel, his eyes moving from the staff carved with runes and the wand that was at my hip as I relaxed. "It is better to keep a man like you as an ally than an enemy... your enemies tend to meet their gods too soon for my likes," stated Syrio, looking me in the eyes and showing that he was being honest. "The Sealord has kindly asked that we act as your honor guard to attend a meeting with him you have requested… so that you can discuss the recent events and how to further the alliance between Braavos and House Targaryen."

'Nice way of wording it as if it was my idea and asking me not to burn the city off the map,' I thought. That sounded reasonable and contrary to the image I might have had... I was not much on collateral damage... or at least not in the form of lives.

Magical death cults that wanted me dead... was one thing when my own survival hinged on it. Masses of innocent bystanders with no protection from my magic... made me uncomfortable. I did not consider myself a mass murderer… even if one could argue that the ritual I designed implied premeditation, I had the finger on the button and only pressed it when they attacked me. 'It was self-defense, honest, officer… or natural selection at best,' I thought, getting a snort from the image of Morrigan in response to my thoughts, seen only by me. That being said, using magic on innocent people felt... dirty after the vision I had… too much like bullying.

Faceless Men... ironically... had been an easy extermination. Maybe I could do the same to the White Walkers, but I would need to check. I had a feeling that I would not be lucky twice… this world would not make it easy for me.

I looked at him, my mind taking a peak through the minds of the guards, finding no deception. Most were afraid and did not think highly of their chances, especially when the First Swords seemed to want to avoid a fight.

One of the guards caught my attention, though, who thought he was smart and thought that I was not as much of a threat as Syrio thought I was.

I grasped one of the explosives, throwing it into the canal and willing it to blow up with a flex of my will. A moment later, a splash of water had everyone looking in that direction… creating a large enough ruckus for me to weave the water particles into a mist of concealment in the same manner as the one that hid Braavos from the Wrath of Valyria.

"Right… I will see you at the palace," I stated, looking at Syrio before pulling on my cloak and the Mists of Braavos to fade from view. What followed along, close enough to be woven to be part of the disguise, while a raven followed in the air… leaving smoke with each flap of his wings.

I took the long way around to the Sea Lord's Palace, mostly to gather some materials, drop off a few of the loot, and integrate the Weirwood Ash into my Rowan Staff to improve the quality for channeling magic without changing its nature… in case I had to fight my way out.

I wanted to create a new wand, using the feather of the Raven bound to the Sun's fire, yet it felt… off. The feather had a rather superficial connection to magic… and a test showed that it could be stripped off with the right amount of pressure. Best I could guess, the ritual had left its mark on the bird… but it was not permanent, akin to how shadow-binding souls to the body tended to decay over time. That made for a sub-part Magic Core, and I did not want to rely on a wand that would stop being magic in the middle of a fight.

The boat ride to the Sea Lord's palace was quiet. The glimpses of thoughts I managed to catch from the 'honor guard' waiting for my arrival suggested that the guards were afraid, while Syrio seemed to be trying his best to not snap at the son of the Mad King who had burned the faces off every Faceless Men and exterminated the boogeyman of Planetos.

"And the staff… and the stick, Prince Viserys," said the guard, whose fear was just rolling off him. I looked at him with a smirk raising an eyebrow. I had a simple branch of Weirwood on my belt to trick those who knew me enough, but that did not mean I was going to play ball.

No words were needed before Syrio declared, "He can keep the sticks; just bring bread and salt... that will work as a better guarantee against him."

I gave Syrio a nod... the man understood the way things worked. He would also probably not try to stick a knife in me, but my current outfit could take that. I really needed to make a leather duster… but my growth spurt made such an investment infeasible as I had yet to release souls and reuse them once they were bound.

The Sealord was not waiting for us in the Great Hall with its throne upon the raised platform that allowed him to overlook everyone else.

Instead, we were led to the menagerie, where the Sealord was waiting for us with Bellonara in his arm. She felt me first, her mind opening herself to me with the mere push, as I got a cliff notes version of how much she could manipulate the old man before she sent me a cheeky wink.

"You always have the most marvelous beasts," said Ferrego, looking at the raven perched on my shoulder. I let the silence linger, working my way through his mind just in case. "One of my advisors suggested I attack and take your sister, hostage," admitted Ferrego, throwing a piece of meat at the creatures in the cage. Said creatures were a pair of Velociraptors that would be at home in the set of Jurassic Park… looking like giant bipedal lizards. "I had his tongue removed for his stupidity," he added, throwing another small piece of meat at the dinosaurs.

I nodded, slowly releasing the magical energy I had instinctively pulled from the air. While a wand was necessary to focus my power, I did not need it to crush someone; it just meant less collateral.

"They seem to be afraid of you," noted the Sealord, pointing at dinosaurs. Their eyes watching me before they decided to slowly back away… their instincts probably screaming them to run.

"They have good instincts," I stated, making the Sealord chuckle. Bellonara giggled at the way the lizards did not seem to look away from me as they retreated into the cave built for them.

"There is no use thinking of what could have been. The Faceless Men are dead for better or for worse. That means there will be trouble with what you have done; some might find your action an attack on Braavos… others might consider you responsible for cleaning up the mess your actions caused," said Ferrego making me chuckle.

"And most men are stupid," I stated simply, "even in death, I can do as Garin and destroy Braavos… if I were inclined to harm Braavos."

"Last time a Targaryen threatened the Sealord of Braavos, it was King Jaehaerys the Old who had the crown," said Ferrego, breaking the silence once it was clear that I was comfortable with the silence.

"Correct me if I am wrong, but the Old King threatened the Sealord with dragons when he refused to return three dragon eggs that were stolen from my family. The promise was, should a dragon ever fly over Braavos, that there would be Faceless Men sent after my family." I said instead,

"Indeed… it would seem that Faceless Men are with their god now, and a dragon stands before me," said Ferrego, giving me an inch. "You claim the title of king, so I would ask what you would do in my place?"

"You are not your predecessors, just as I am not my father… nor am I, Jaehaerys the Old," I responded, "When our family's fate was darkest, it was in Braavos we found a safe harbor, Sealord," I said. "I will not break faith with Braavos if she does not break faith with me."

"When I was struck by the blades of the Faceless Men, it was your magic that saved my life," countered the Sealord. "For that, I owe you a debt."

"It was a plot meant to force me to reveal myself to the public," I admitted, simply to show how little the Faceless Men cared for his life. There was also that little bit of wisdom that holding the debt over someone would make them easily irritated.

"Yet you chose to help me instead; a debt is owed, one that I could not pay back with a simple ship that awaits you at the port," stated the Sealord instead. "All it requires is a name and a crew."

I nodded, having put off the ship until I handled the Faceless Men.

"Yet politics means you could not offer more without causing strife with Westeros, and you cannot host me in Braavos to prevent the fallout from the death of the Faceless Men," I nodded, understanding his position. That did not mean that I was willing to let him get away with it.

"We had news from Westeros that the Iron Born Rebellion has been put down," stated Ferrego, seeing no change in my face. "Yet you knew it already."

"And given how Robert showed his might against a naval power, you are hesitant to go to war," I observed, making Ferrego nod.

"For someone who seeks to reclaim their throne, you do not seem to be rash in going to war," said the Sealord.

"If Robert attacks Braavos, you will find that I will help defend your city," I stated. The royal fleet may find themselves in unfortunate storms as I tested the so-called Stormlord's heritage. "Yet I understand that it is not your war, and asking men to die for you for a war that is easily avoidable makes sense."

"Were you my son…" sighed Ferrogo, his voice barely above a whisper, though the wind carried it to my ears all the same, "I cannot give you an army or be seen to openly support your bid for a foreign throne, Braavos holds no interest in. The only cause Braavos would fight for is the freedom of slaves."

"A wise man once said everything said before a but is worth horse-shit," I stated, giving the older man an amused look, before noticing a familiar face approaching us. Tycho Naharis looked as he always did, long white beard and purple robes that made me think he was trying for a Dumbledore cosplay.

"Yet, I find myself less in doubt of your success by each day," stated Ferrogo, "You are familiar with Tycho Nestoris."

"Your grace, it is nice to see you well," said the Banker. "You will find that our enterprise in the North was successful. Now, it has come to our attention that the Iron Bank recently lost one of their greater tools in recollecting their debts; without the threat of Faceless Men, most would find defying the Iron Bank a lesser risk," said Tycho, his robes holding hints of being too long at sea.

"Woe betide the fool who does. Here I thought the Golden Company would be getting more contracts," I joked, knowing that the Sellsword Company, founded by Blackfyre supporters, was employed by the Iron Bank. I had refused the offer of the Iron Bank to get in contact with them on my behalf during our negotiations, but I thought that would be it.

In canon, Viserys had feasted the Captains of the Golden Company, only for them to laugh at his face. My knowledge of the potential Blackfyre plot meant I would not suffer their existence or waste resources on a group that may betray me for another claimant.

"A contract would be extended had they not refused twice over the last year; our sources suggest that it is on the basis that House Targaryen live in Braavos, your reputation reaches beyond the Titan, your grace," stated Ferrago, "Their Captains seem to avoid Braavos, and before today, I could not place any reason."

'Before today, you would have underestimated me,' I thought to myself. "How smart of them…" I started, only to be interrupted by the strange mind of a raven that was held in a cage... a white raven.

"You know what this means, then?" asked Ferrego, gesturing at the white raven. I took a breath, feeling the winds in a way people without magic could never truly understand.

For a moment, I was the wind; for a moment, I was the air itself. I looked..., and I saw the blue eyes, waiting... plotting. "Winter is coming to a close," I stated, looking at the sky. "It will be a long summer next and a long winter that will follow."

I could feel the trouble brewing, the Golden Company being wary of me made things… complicated. It meant that Varys and Illyrio were going to start causing trouble for me… if the theory that them supporting Blackfyres is correct at least.

"Then the Iron Bank will require someone reliable… and dangerous to reclaim their investments… for the short term at least," said Tycho with a smirk.

I nodded before starting the negotiation process.

---

As we were walking to the exit of the Sealord's palace, neither side happy with the amount they had to give, Bellonara and I came face to face with a gaggle of… nuns?

Well, they were not Septas, they wore white gowns with white headdresses to cover their hair, but the general style looked like a nun's habit… without the black parts. From the moonstones and pearls and the excessive use of moon imagery, I could tell who they were.

"Your grace, may I introduce the High Priestess of the Moonsingers and her acolytes," introduced Bellonara for the sake of propriety. "You stand before the presence of King Viserys Targaryen, Third of His Name."

'She has no name,' Morrigan whispered, appearing to the side of my vision. 'They give it to the Moon-Pale Maiden in exchange for wisdom."

"We know each other," said the High Priestess, bowing before me. I nodded in turn as I had talked with the Moonsingers to gain some perspective of their magic. "We greet the Great Jhat." the rest of the Moonsingers bowed as well.

I sent feelings of confusion to Morrigan since I knew that Bellonara, too, did not seem to have a clue. I had to figure out how to do telepathy, but for now, simple emotions were easy to project.

'Peculiar… Jhat is a term they use to refer to their male leaders, who are warriors and kings,' explained Morrigan. 'The lore of the Moonsingers is known only to Moonsingers, though House of the Black and White learned some of the rights of the Moon Pale Maid who is of the Many-Faced God.'

I clutched my staff while I knew Wat was ready to pull out a bomb or two at a moment's notice… just in case. I was wary of any priest, given how some could pop out shadow demons.

"Apologies… your grace, we meant no disrespect," said the High Priestess, bowing her head in submission, "It is good to see that you have grown. We have come to see Him who Holds the Sun's Light, and we have," she said, her eyes focused on my right hand, hidden behind bandages. "As well as to offer our services for she who sings the moon's song."

I made eye contact with the High Priestess and pushed myself through the connection. For a moment, her eyes widened as I felt the presence of decent Mental Protections in her mind, as expected of a person who was devout in her beliefs and worshipped the conceptual representation of hiding and revealing. I pulled on my own understanding of the moon and the sun, of the concept of revealing. The protection fell apart, and a moment later, the shock turned into comprehension, own as she bared her mind for me.

A moment of confusion on my end was clarified as the High Priestess saw the remnants of the sun's flames, the starlight that was now captured in my eyes, and knew me to be the one she was seeking.

I pulled back, letting my mind re-orient itself to my own perspective.

"Sun and the Moon are lovers," said the Priestess, "or siblings, if one takes the Ancient Valyrian Texts to account. We offer the services of Moonsingers to your Household to do as you wish."

I was stumped. That… was like providing an open check… which meant they were either crazy or had a motive behind their actions. Given that they were part of organized religion… it was a coin toss.

'Moonsingers are one-third of the pillars of Braavos; the Iron Bank and the House of Black and White are the others. With the House of Black and White no more, they will try to ingrate themselves to the one that could have killed them. They are not stupid, as they understand the dangers of a force capable of taking out the House of Black and White.' stated Morrigan, explaining the entirety of the confrontation.

"And what does that mean?" I asked, the Moonstone on top of my staff casting a soft glow holding the concept of 'revealing' within. It was not a Zone of Truth to the fullest, but it would make any who are trying to hide something stumble and get distracted.

The Moonsinger's eyes widened upon seeing the glowing Moonstone. "So you have managed to bring the light of the Moon Mother from the stone," stated the High Priestess, making me chuckle.

"The moon reflects the light of the Sun," I countered, getting a snort from one acolyte. "That one holds doubt in her, does your blind devotion blind you from the truth of things?" I noted, focusing on one of the older girls. She could not have been older than twenty, with black hair, pale skin, and pale grey eyes.

I opened my eyes in truth, seeing a girl with moonlight in her eyes and a subtle smell of wolf… too subtle for what I would expect from a full-blooded Stark, even if the only potential candidate would be Lyanna Stark and I was sure her form in the unseen would be crowned in blue roses, but there were more than a few off branches in Essos of the family.

Then I remembered why the name sounded familiar... Moonshadow was one of the Courtesans of Braavos... one that I had noticed as the author's throw-away what-if characters, the courtesan path offered up to Arya fully realized.

I threw a silver coin to my back, letting the light of my staff reflect off it, showing off a bit of magic. If they wanted to discern my worth, I could show off a bit. "Does the silver glow on its own... or does it reflect the light of the staff?" I asked.

"Moonshadow, apologize for your insolence; I may tolerate your behavior up to now, yet I will see you punished." chastised the High Priestess... clearly annoyed by one of her supposed priestesses. At least, unlike the rest, who were scared, apathetic, or zealous, she had... character.

"What insolence? Doubt and curiosity are good tools to have in life," I laughed out loud, finding the girl's attitude far better than the rest of them… blind deference and awe were nice, but the one before me was… amusing. At least her thoughts were honest as her words. Looking at the grey eyes of the woman before me. There was something to her… a subtle presence of magic that I mistook for character... a resistance to her mind that put me on edge and made me notice her at the same time.

"A dragon is a dragon… no matter if some prophecy says you are supposedly the Greatest King to have ever lived," said Moonshadow, not breaking eye contact.

"Good… prophecies are fickle… and you seem to have some spine compared to the others," I countered. "You said anything I need, have you not?" I asked, turning to the High Priestess.

"Indeed... though if you wish to learn our ways, there are more studious acolytes who know of the songs," said the High Priestess, worried that Moonshadow would botch it all up.

"I have never been much for songs, cannot carry a tune for the life of me... my brother had been the bard," I dismissed. There were... songs... well, more like spells, but I was always more inclined for silent casting, calling on the song of the world instead of singing my tune.

"She has not long left in the temple. Once she reaches her twentieth name day, should she prove incapable of the songs, she will be thrown out... she is not worthy of the attention of the Great Jhat," warned the High Priestess, as I nodded, further convinced.

"And what else would she do?" Bellanora gasped, playing along.

"Become a Courtesan most likely… at least I will not have to suffer the indignity of having to sing for free," whispered Moonshadow.

I grinned... an idea forming in my mind.

---

Once I returned from my day trip to Braavos, hashing out a deal with the Sealord, letting Nessa settle an annoyed Moonshadow as a governess to teach Dany. The High Priestess had effectively thrown the poor girl in my direction, and Moonshadow had been chafing under the Moonsingers enough to go through with it... and she leaped at the chance to live a life of comfort as a Courtesan by making connections with the Black Pearl.

I headed to the workshop… sleep alluded to me as I considered my current lack of a wand, placing the caged White Raven of the citadel in the corner and placing a cloak over it. The Sealord cared not much for the raven, though his obsession with peculiar creatures made him less than pleased to part with the raven that was larger, smarter, and stronger than its lesser cousins. The Maesters could go die in a ditch as far as I was concerned, and that bit of secret they kept, I was going to take apart.

I took out the Rowan Staff I had used that was infused with Weirwood, grasping the last foot off the staff that I had purposefully made longer to channel more power. A piece of wood from the tip snapped off, flowing like water. The wood was rowan and only had a small amount of Weirwood to copy the properties of the magical wood... which, while superficial, should do for a wand.

Given my experience, it took less than an hour to make the proto-Wand from the feather of the sun-fire-infused Raven and Magical Rowan. Both the feather and the wood were only superficially magical, the raven had the conceptual sun fire in him, but it felt… disjointed. Similarly, the ash within the wood felt artificial, as if the absorbing process was not as homogenous as if the rowan naturally grew to integrate those components. I had a feeling that it would be limiting my spells by a large margin… but a wand was a wand... even if it ran on a charge as this one seemed to be.

I decided to add a few new things to the wand... beyond what I normally added.

First was an actual soul, a method of sustaining spells without having to concentrate on them, allowing me to keep an enchantment going. I called on a normal raven that came with me down to my hand, choosing the animal for its connection to the ability to speak the 'True Tongue,' which the Children of the Forest used for Magic. With a slash of my knife and the raven's blood went to the bronze cauldron I pulled up, its body bursting into flames and joining the blood.

The raven was followed by pieces of dragonglass, Moonstone, and sunstone from my stash. My old wand had only used the dragonglass, and it was most useful in magic that involved fire or ice. My experience indicated that it was possible to pull concepts from other stones, so combining them into a single wand is more versatile.

Once the wand was complete, I waved it, pointing the point ending aimed at the hearth with a simple "Incendio," causing a bolt of fire to reignite the fire… less powerful than what I expected, but much more refined than the original wand I had crafted.

I pointed my wand at the book Tycho had given me, declaring "Accio" and catching the flying book with my left hand. 'Moon is connected to Tides, leading to Gravitational Spells... or rather Force-based spells,' I mentally concluded, determining that the wand was good for more force-based spells that my old wand struggled with.

As I cast channeled magic through the wand, pulling and pushing the now empty bronze cauldron, I tried to get a better understanding of how magic flowed through my new focus. There was a strain like too much magic would break it, but it was robust enough for me to use in a pinch.

Finally, I took a small bit of kindling, placing it before me. Pulling on the sunstone, in the sun, and the concept of Change that the giant fusion reactor represented, I let my magic and will guide me.

The wood morphed, changing to become pointy, an eye-opening in the other end before it started to gain a smooth surface that started to shimmer... gaining an illusion, and the wand died... at least it did not burst into flames.

I inspected the needle; it looked like metal, it shone like steel... it even tasted like steel.

Opening my eyes to the Unseen... I looked through the needle, seeing the wood for what it was... Its essence was unchanged. "In form and function, a needle... in essence... wood," I muttered, throwing the wand to the side and calling it at least a progress in Transfiguration. I could morph wood to my will, and now I could layer its form with an illusion to make it look the part of a needle... but the essence... required me to study more into alchemy. I would study it later as I focused on the other item on my desk.

I felt the book beneath the layers of leather, feeling no poison or trap. The history of the book shows that it was written by Maester Aemon Targaryen in the hopes that it would prevent me from ending up killing myself. The book itself was encrypted, with a simple note saying, "The knife is key," which I took to mean the writing on the blade was the key to the encryption. The fact that Maester Aemon knew how encryptions worked was impressive, and he must have assumed that I could either figure it out or find a Maester to learn it from.

"Viserys," I read out loud, translating from the encrypted High Valyrian, "it is my great shame that I share this with you, of the lore of our family, brought forth from mine own memory. Know that I have made many mistakes, yet I fear that this may be my greatest mistake or the one act I can do to ensure the line of my brother endures. I pass this on with a heavy heart, with a warning that Wildfire is not the key as we had once thought. Trust none of it, for I fear the knowledge has been long since changed... yet let it be a guide to you."

I flipped the page, "Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History," I translated, reading out loud. That explained how that copy found its way into the Library of the Red Keep after Baelon the Moron burned all the books.

Just as I settled on to work on it, someone barged into my workshop, who turned out to be Dany.

"Do you just collect women on a whim, or should I call you Viserys the Unworthy?" asked Dany making me wince internally

"Ouch..." I said in a cold tone, mostly amused with how Dany was trying to project her authority. "What brought this on?"

"Your new whore," said Dany. "Shadowmoon... or whatever her made-up name is..." I chuckled at the way she was standing, pouting.

"She is trained as a Moonsinger... and she is here to instruct you on the ways of laws and political aspects," I countered. "Moonsingers are trained for navigating religion and laws. Moonshadow is old enough to have a decent understanding of the world. Where Bellegere and Bellonara can train you in intrigue and ways of the court, Moonshadow was a perfect fit for teaching you laws and justice given that it was what Moonsingers preside over."

"And how long will it be before you bed her?" asked Dany, seeing through me. I did find Moonshadow attractive, and given that she was a priestess, I could leverage her purity to cultivate more soul-stuff.

"I do not think that is relevant, Dany... what is this really about?" I asked, knowing that it was one of the plans that Moonsingers had... trying to get someone to spy on me while also trying to influence my decisions. "Did you feel something... do you think she is untrustworthy?"

"Not more than anyone else... it is just..." said Dany pausing and gathering herself, "You do not spend time with me anymore," she accused, making me chuckle. "You fight and protect me, but you get hurt, father is gone, brother is gone, mother is gone and I... I... I don't want to lose you too." her eyes were stuck to my arm; the bindings had come loose. She slammed herself to my chest, and I only heard her through the spell I used to carry sound through the wind. "I don't want to be alone."

"You will find death to be less effective against one like me," I stated as Morrigan snorted in the corner. "Trust your brother to protect you..." I said, hugging her. "Alas, you are right; let me make it up to my little sister then... what would make the little dragon less wroth with this lowly mortal?" I teased, feeling her grin.

"Teach me magic," demanded Dany, making me stop for a moment. "I am old enough," she argued.

I would lie if I told you that I had not thought about it, but magic was dangerous, and Dany was barely seven.

My eyes landed on the covered cage holding the white raven that announced the change of seasons. Winter was gone... and it would be coming with a vengeance, as Starks kept reminding the world.

I had thought to wait until she was eleven, mostly to make sure that she did not accidentally burn something down in the family tradition of destroying things with fire when they annoyed us... which I was not part of. 'Behold, the might of House Targaryen, our chief weapons are fire, alchemical fire, and magic fire... no wonder all our problems had a tendency to look like kindling.'

Magic was... still primal, and I could barely protect myself from the backlash... but I did not have time... or luxury to be cautious. I needed my sister to be able to protect herself. The books started when she was thirteen... and two years would not be enough for Dany to know the basics.

I snorted, seeing the expectant look on my sister's face. "As far as manipulation attempts went, I would say six out of ten," I said, getting a pout in turn from Dany in turn"... maybe seven," I amended, seeing the way she was looking at me. She buried her face to my chest, but her smile did not fade, knowing she had won.

I took one of the Weirwood and Dragon Bone wands from the locked box, the simpler versions that would not burn the place down if she got angry but were strong enough to teach her to basics.

I pulled Dany to my lap, handing her the wand. The air filled with warmth a moment later as she waved it, and the smile she gave me was... worth all the pain I had to suffer as I flexed my hand.

Last edited: Jul 3, 2023