Is the answer fire?

That sounds like a solution, doesn't it? It would be the type of thing Aerys would do, throwing Wildfire at the problem.

That being said, I had a reputation to uphold and randomly setting fire to things or people would have me be compared to my father from this world and I had my own issues with the Mad King Aerys himself. As I had principles and some potentially misplaced pride, I was not going to go with the fast and easy method, mostly to make sure there was something to loot in the house belonging to a man called `The Alchemist`.

Then there were other factors, like a man who was called "The Alchemist" would probably be a deft hand at using Wildfire in a way that was better than my own approach, not that I had access to the `Substance`, as the Pyromaniacs in King's Landing liked to call it.

Also, the fact that the concoctions the man had may just as likely to cause a chain reaction and start an uncontrollable fire, but I cared more about potential information about Magic I could get my hands on than the potential safety of Braavos as a whole... which probably said more about me than I cared to admit. I mentally filed away my utter lack of fear of death, possibly as a side effect of being reincarnated, for future evaluation.

I hummed, lost in my thoughts as I looked at the doors of the House of Black and White that was closed behind us once we got outside. The coin I had found by my bedside was still with me, an IOU of some sort for the Faceless Men, burning a hole in my chest pocket as I inspected the monochromatic doors before me, considering what the door itself could mean.

The first part was something that I noticed when I entered the House of Black and White. The door closing had caused my connection to the outside break. It was... an interesting effect that I did not expect, but hindsight showed that there was some magic involved. That meant I should dig into it. The door of the House of Black and White would be described as Ebony and Weirwood by Arya Stark... an observation I would agree with a cursory glance.

The duality of White and Black Wood also existed in the Workshop of Tobho Mott, who had the knowledge and skill to reforge Valyrian Steel. As two independent groups in the form of Faceless Man and Smiths of Qohor who could use magic in one form or another used the same setup, I realized that it was worth investing in materials.

While I was lost in my thoughts, I noticed the tension around me.

"Ser Richard Lonmouth?" asked Ser Willem, his hand resting on his cane that hid a sword.

"Ser Willem," greeted the knight now sober and silent. The Kindly Man had given the knight some foul-smelling concoction once he had calmed down a bit. Whatever the concoction was, it had him coughing and sweating until he sobered up. At least he could walk straight on his own... so, small steps for now.

"I did not know you could conjure knights, my prince," stated Ser Willem looking at me with a look that promised further questions.

"That is yet to be seen, ser," I hummed noncommittally, as I kept looking at the large door made of black and white wood.

The Black Wood was not in truth Ebony... a fact that Arya and Ned Stark could not recognize in their ignorance. It was a distinction one could make only if one could see beyond the physical...

Opening the Third Eye, as the saying went was... far more complicated than it sounded. Third Eye was a concept from my old life, connected to the Easter Spirituality and trying the tricks I recalled from Meditation had not been exactly useful. The Third Eye was more of an awareness of one's own soul and the connection soul and mind shared that allowed for use in skinchanging and any other form of spell-casting.

As my mind reach out to the birds around the city, I saw through the eyes of animals, a physical form was needed to see. The one in the House with the Red Door kept a close eye on both Dany and everything around the house as I turned my focus to my own flesh, seeing through my own eyes without the wool over it.

The trick was technically a variation of Occlumency, mostly in the fact that it prevented illusions from taking hold through my eyes. It prevented the caster from having their eyes fooled through Magic, giving them the ability to see beyond what others wished me to see, allowing me to see through the instinctive need to dismiss the truth.

The blue veins upon black wood and red veins up white wood told me an interesting story... a story of two trees that brought me memories of another set of two trees... more magical than anything in this world.

Weirwood was known to me, as I gripped the pommel of the wand at my hip to bring me comfort. I knew Weirwood, I understood what it was, bone and wood bound through a living sacrifice, a bridge between a tree and a sentient creature that Greenseers used to store their souls and look into the memories of the past.

The black wood, I recalled was called Nightwood. It had blue leaves that were used by the Warlocks of Qarth to make the drink Shade of the Evening, which was another thing that I needed to study that I had no access to. Nightwood itself seemed to have similar properties to Weirwood in that it allowed people to use magic in some shape or form, making it the second Magical wood that I could leverage.

It was the duality of the two kinds of woods that had my interest though... the fact that it was able to shut off my skinchanging when the doors of the House of Black and White closed gave me... ideas.

"My prince?" asked Ser Willem, as I came out of my thoughts.

"Did you say something, Ser Willem?" I asked, returning to the present from thoughts of magic.

"To the house, your grace?" asked Ser Willem in a stiff tone. The message underneath was clear `Can we trust him?`

"Mayhaps we shall eat in this Tavern I heard Syrio mention... have a chat with our new... acquaintance" I countered, my hand not leaving the pommel of my wand. I had to put away my thoughts of Magic Research and handle what was before me now.

"I could use a drink." responded the Knight of Skulls and Kisses, making me sigh in exasperation. I was really conflicted about just letting him get put down by a Faceless Man and focus on Magic Research... it was extremely tempting me now.

Was I too hard on the man? Probably... I mean, first impressions matter and I was not impressed by the emotional wreck that was Ser Richard Lonmouth.

The problem was that I was aware that I was extremely biased. Richard Lonmouth was one of Rhaegar's supporters but given what I saw, he was still loyal, which made him worth more than his weight in gold if I could get him to my side. I was self-conscious enough to know that it was not specific to this knight. I would not even receive Barristan the Bold himself without any bitterness. Granted, said Knight of the Kingsguard had bent the knee with an excuse that OG Viserys had his father's madness, not to mention what they let Aerys do to my poor mother. The memories of Viserys had long since blended with my own to make us a single entity and my perspective gave me a new appreciation of Queen Rhaella Targaryen. I mean, I was not an expert but I was not sure if the behaviors of a sheltered eight-year-old should be used as the basis to judge a character. I was sure I could at least manipulate someone like Barristan Selmy to keep his loyalty had I found myself in this body at an earlier time, but thinking of what could have been would not help me now.

My hood was up, as I held my wand against my leg hidden beneath my cloak while sitting in the corner, my back against the wooden walls. Ser Willem notices the way I was on guard and kept a hand on his cane's pommel, ready to unsheathe the blade within.

"Ale for me, Water for the lad," said Ser Willem, getting a nod from me.

"Wine," responded Richard Lonmouth, not even hesitating in his choice. My dislike for alcohol was mostly built around my need to keep a clear head to use magic, so I did not approve of his choice, given the state I met him in, Ser Richard needed to keep himself under control... a failing on his part.

"Water it down, I need him sober," I commanded the girl, pushing my command and words with my Mind onto hers to make sure she listened. The Magical Compulsion ensured that she ignored the fact that I was a child, despite my command, a mental desire formed within her mind that made her ignore that specific bit. The spell was less a Command and more a Compulsion in its purpose and the gold coin I flicked in her direction was enough to break any resolve the girl might have had. It was not exactly the Voice from Dune, but it worked to achieve similar results if the target was not completely against the commands and coin had a way of opening the minds, so to speak.

"So, what brought you to Braavos, Ser?" I asked, reaching out and creating a small mental compulsion to make eavesdroppers ignore what was being said. I felt inspired by the subtle compulsion I felt from not wanting to pry into the nature of combining Weirwood and Nightwood and I was trying to replicate the effect, forcing people to feel that we were "not really worth any attention."

"Winds." responded the Knight, though the eye contact was all I needed to slip in, reading the surface thoughts. Pushing into the Minds of others was... uncomfortable if I went too deep. The Compulsion I was using was surface level, a simple thought that was easily picked up and likewise easily resisted. I could pull off full possession if they were unconscious or lacked proper mental blocks that most adults had formed as they grew older, but it was not something I enjoyed or could do without breaking something on a permanent basis when they resisted... and anyone who was conscious resisted. I really did not want to turn another person into Hodor... at least those who did not do anything to deserve it.

What I saw in Richard Lonmouth was... a mess, a reflection of the outside showing within.

Richard Lonmouth was a broken man. A broken man who had nothing to live for... or at least that is what he believed in.

"You were at the Trident" I stated, deciding to bulldoze my way through. I needed him to focus on specific thoughts if I wanted to judge his worth.

"I was," said Ser Richard, his discomfort obvious.

"All I heard were second-hand reports." I stated, "What happened?"

"What does it matter?" asked Ser Richard, his tone uncaring. "Rhaegar is dead... and I should have died with him."

`Shame and despair then,` I thought to myself "Mayhaps gods have another plan for you, yet?" I asked.

"If so, they are cruel." countered the knight in turn. "Mayhaps, one day, I will tell you why I think it is worthless to try, Prince Viserys, but that will not be today." he deflected.

"It is not my life that the Faceless Men are holding onto." I countered, with some anger. Stupidity I could handle, the self-loathing was just annoying at this point. "What use is a knight who will not fight for himself."

"I knew the lad when he was a squire to Rhaegar, your grace, he is dutiful." countered Ser Willem, speaking the words that he knew would hit where it hurt. Ser Willem was a good man, who knew the game I was playing and the way he helped me manipulate a drunk man with nothing to live for was... strangely comforting.

"He is a mess is what he is." I countered though I felt rather conflicted. "We can just as well let the Faceless Man give him a more permanent peace."

A part of me that I had not managed to strangle out of myself wanted to help the man. The more pragmatic part of me wanted to be rid of him. If I was honest with myself, the only reason I was helping him was to see if I could learn something from the Alchemist.

I have been putting off experimenting with Alchemy and Potions for a while now. Whatever advantage I could gain from Potions would require me to place time and resources I did not have along with discovering how materials reacted. While it was potentially a high-risk endeavor with potential rewards, I was better suited to focus on what I had access to with the use of my wand, though my spell-work had slowed down to a crawl in the last month or so.

The Alchemist potentially held knowledge that I needed to kick-start my path to understanding how Alchemy worked in this world. My knowledge was limited to the fact that Alchemists could make Wildfire, which was rather limited. Sure, there were probably many and more uses for the only branch of Magic that seemed to have endured the test of time, but I needed some way of learning what was, so I could come up with what could be. I simply did not have the time to reinvent the wheel, so to speak.

I held the bridge of my nose, rubbing it to stave off the headache I would be suffering for my decision. "Fine... we will help you with your problem," I stated, knowing that I did not really have any other option but to help. It still helped to show that it was not something I would do for the sake of doing it.

It took me a week to figure out how to approach the problem that was this so-called Alchemist.

I was moving with extreme caution, mostly because I did not know how much this Alchemist knew about Magic. For all I knew, he was better at it than me and he would see me coming in, which was where Ser Richard came in.

A sorcerer in this world was powerful but they could still fall to the bite of cold steel. While I would be more comfortable with the aid of Ser Willem as well, the old man was past his prime and I needed him to be unharmed more than I needed someone like Richard Lonmouth... even if the Knight of Skulls and Kisses was younger and potentially a good alternative to Ser Willem should the old man pass on as the books suggested. It was all to provide me with a buffer to get stronger.

First was a way to disguise myself.

If I was going to act as an Assassin for the Faceless Men, I was going to take a page from their own book. Getting some black hair dye would serve as well as anything else to keep my identity somewhat obscured in a world where cameras did not exist.

Next was an idea I was inspired by the House of Black and White once more, an item that may provide me with an edge. Getting access to Nightwood to pair with Weirwood was an experiment for all intents and purposes, but it seemed to have some interaction with Skinchanging from what I had experienced that seemed... strange.

"Welcome" greeted the old man in the shop I had found the pieces of Weirwood nearly two years ago. "What can Laro do for you?" asked the old man who owned the shop.

The black hair and time would hopefully be enough to prevent him from recognizing me as the Westerosi who sought anything made with Weirwood.

"I am looking for a gift... something made from a dark wood," I stated, causing the man to nod and smile at the prospect of earning coin.

"I have some ebony chests." stated the old man. "Best ones you can find in Braavos indeed. Crafted with carvings from the time of Century of Blood."

"I was looking for something rarer," I countered, knowing that I had enough coin to spare for it, even though spending so much money for something that would be considered wasteful was painful after all the effort I put into earning the money. "I hear there is this special black wood from Qarth."

"Ah... the Nightwood... yes, I think we had a decorated chest made from the famed Nightwood of Qarth in the back, with carvings of the failed invasion from Valyria" stated Laro the Shopkeeper, making me sigh as I could tell it would be a costly investment. Given that it was a rare wood import, I would be lucky to get it for the equivalent of hundreds of gold dragons from this single item. The fact that it depicted another depiction of a failure of Valyria probably was the only reason it found its way to Braavos, given what I knew of these people.

With the materials collected, I was able to spend more time scouting the Alchemist and the Manor that he had been living in. The Kindly Man had provided me with an address and it was not hard to identify the man wearing robes and smelling of sulfur as anything but an Alchemist.

An owl perched atop a roof, watching the house with unnatural eyes. Using Skinchanging for scouting was not a novel idea to start with, as Mance Rayder had done something similar by organizing the Skinchangers beyond the wall. It also allowed me to gather the information that would normally require me to watch the house myself, an act that was not as appealing after another week spent watching the house.

"Children... are you certain?" asked Ser Richard, sober now that he understood that it was his life on the line... probably.

"Orphans and street rats mostly." I explained, "They enter the house but do not leave". I had to hold myself back from reacting rashly and attacking directly. I did not know if those children were still alive or dead, but I knew that I had to put a stop to it... and not just because the Faceless Man had subtly threatened me for it.

I knew that it was possible to use souls to cast spells. It was what I was doing in a roundabout way as well, but using children to power spells made me feel sick.

I could understand the general idea of it, even if it was the most amoral thing I have come across. I could think of nearly a dozen justifications on why it was easier to use children than a grown man, chief among which was the fact that it was easier to skin-change less developed minds which in turn would help with any Blood Magic by blurring the lines between willing and unwilling sacrifice. That did not make what was happening should not be stopped.

It was nearly a whole month since I visited the House of Black and White, and the night of the new moon provided the best time to sneak in.

I was armed and armored as much as I could get away with, a gambeson over my Shadow-bound Tunic that could pass off as a jacket, a buckler for my off-hand to use with my wand, two daggers and an axe just in case. I could not go for plate or mail armor mostly to be stealthy and also because that would get people to ask questions.

Ser Richard on the other hand was dressed for war... in a cobbled-together second-hand armor that Ser Willem was able to get through various blacksmiths, since Richard did not have his armor anymore and he refused to elaborate.

All in all, we could pass for a noble's son and his guard real well... or a knight and a squire if Richard was able to play off being drunk.

The eyes of the owl allowed me to navigate the streets without a light source, night-vision and lack of noise when flying made the owl a perfect animal to use for this. Getting used to walking the streets from a third-person view was weird at first, but I was able to get used to it.

"He is asleep?" asked Ser Richard,

"From what I can tell." I nodded, taking out my wand and pointing it at the door as I prepared myself for the spell I was working on specifically for this purpose.

Reaching out with my very essence, I could feel the latch behind the door keeping the door from being opened. The lock was simple enough that I did not need to have too fine control over what I was going to do.

"Alahomora," I whispered, mostly for myself. Just because I was trying to be stealthy did not mean I could not enjoy the small things in life and that small satisfaction alone was enough to get me in the right frame of mind to achieve the spell. The latch rose a moment later, unlocking the door with a click, causing me to smirk. The owl landed on my shoulder with a mental command once I was sure the door was unlocked, providing me with a night vision that my own flesh eyes could not provide.

The hallway was empty, as I knew it would be. The Alchemist did not have servants staying in the house from what I have observed. While killing him was important, I needed to make sure that the children could be recovered before I decided to face the man in case the whole place was rigged by some alchemical concoction to go Summerhall.

I held out my wand, willing it to point me in the direction of the children that the Alchemist had lured into his house. Keeping the image of the street rat that entered the house last, I felt a thug in the direction of the basement. The Divination spell had no incantation and I barely understood the mechanics of how it worked. For all I knew, I was tapping into a future version of myself to get the answers from, not that I had the time to explore the process.

Another Unlocking Charm to open a lock that I could have just as well picked manually and we were in the basement.

A chill ran down my spine, seeing the sight before me.

It was a veritable graveyard... bones littered the room, bones too small to be fully grown men.

AN:

I have been busy for the last few weeks as I said in my previous update so I did not get a chance to update weekly as I had set myself to do. This chapter became longer than I anticipated but it did allow me to create a buffer of some sort for future chapters.

I was not expecting the reaction to Richard Lonmouth to be so harsh, to be honest, but there are reasons for his reactions. That is the main problem of a first-person view, as everything is colored by the MC's biases. For all we know, Rhaegar somehow convinced the most honorable knights of the Kingsguard like Arthur Dayne to follow along with a scheme that made no sense, and someone like Richard Lonmouth who was under Rhaegar's influence from a young age would not have a chance with the way Targaryen's seem to form Cults of Personality just as easily as they breathe unless they are idiots like OG Viserys.

Nightwood and Weirwood combination is a weird one, only seen in the House of Black and White and the Workshop of Tobho Mott. Given that both work on secrecy, I figured there is some sort of a magical effect that Wizerys also noticed firsthand in the previous chapter and now, it has become an itch he just needs to scratch.

There was a discussion of how Unlocking Charm is a good utility spell and Wizerys needed it, so theories he considered were slowly developed into an actual spell he could use when the necessity arose. Is the use of Incantations he does not need a bit immature... yes it is, but would you not play off being Harry Potter if you could pull it off. It probably helps get him in the mental space for the spell effect, so he is using it. It will eventually pay off though, so bear with it.

ASOIAF Magic is based on Sacrifice and while Wizerys is working on a more comprehensive model of Magic but it is still not a complete model yet. The main thing to note is that Wizerys figured out a way to bypass the requirements of sacrifice to a degree by using some advanced form of Skinchanging through the wand that even he barely understands. Not all Magic Users are as moral or care efficiency as the MC and even then, even Wizerys is not a beacon of morality given that he does not shy away from turning the souls of people who attack him into Magic Items if it suits him. For all I can tell, Bloodraven, Melisandre, Mirri Maz Duur and most Valyrian Mages according to what little we know about them are just as monstrous as the Mages from Nasuverse, hence the title of this chapter. Let's just say that the World of Magic in this version of Planetos is not as limited as everyone seems to think and there is a reason it is hidden from the `Muggles`.